Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Showtime at Hogwarts!
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-Nine: Harry and Hermione return to the castle.
“Mum, Dad, are you awake?” Hermione asked after softly knocking on her parents’ door. The only response she got was a muffled and utterly exhausted sounding “Muffgirk”noise. “It’s Christmas Morning, well actually Christmas Afternoon,” Hermione explained and then paused. “If you want to be technical about it, it’s actually early evening. Did you two want to get up and exchange presents?”
After a long pause, Hermione’s mother said in a fatigued voice; “Your father and I exchanged gifts already, dear.”
Harry could help but to comment softly in his lover’s ear, “More like they exchanged… ahem, ‘gifts’ a dozen times already.”
“You two go ahead without us,”Richard offered in a half groan. “Would you be a dear and bring up some food?” he requested.
While Hermione prepared two platefuls of ham sandwiches, she began to doubt her plan for spiking the cake with Lust and Stamina Potions. “I think I may have overdone it. I mean we made love until six this morning and yet we could hear them still going at it when we fell asleep.”
“Which normally should be an emotionally scarring experience for most,” commented Harry as he nicked a bit of ham for himself. “But you’re the one that thinks parents having sex is an expression of their love, not the unnatural act that it is.”
“But what if I did them more harm than good?” the brunette asked with a worried warble to her voice. “There is such a thing as too much sex.”
Just then, as if to challenge Hermione’s fears, two sets of voices began to groan loudly from the upstairs room.
“Looks like we shouldn’t take this food up to your folks just yet,” Harry said while gazing at the ceiling. He could almost swear that the light fixture in the kitchen was shaking thanks to Fiona and Richard’s efforts.
Hermione set the two plates down on the countertop, stating, “I guess we should go open our presents now.”
A loud and nearly joyous “Yes!”emanated from upstairs and the groaning quickly stopped.
“That was rather fast,” Hermione said with wide, slightly horror filled eyes.
“Well, to be fair, that was probably their twentieth go, give or take five, so they deserved a quickie,” Harry said, lifting up the two plates.
“You’re not going in there now, are you?” Hermione asked. “They just had sex!”
“You’re barmy,” Harry returned. “I’m going to have you crack the door open just a touch and then I’ll slide the plates in. Mind you, I suggest we have our eyes firmly shut at the time, just in case.”
~*~
Once they had successfully placed the sandwiches in her parents’ bedroom (where Harry had loudly hummed the theme to Mission: Impossible), the young couple opened their gifts to one another. Harry received a pair of leather trousers from Hermione (“to show off your bum,” she explained). Hermione gushed over the books that Harry bought for her (“I only have the first edition of Roderick’s Spell Encyclopedia and I’ve been eyeing this third revision for some time!”).
Hermione’s smile quickly faltered once all the presents had been opened. With guilty eyes, she said apologetically “You got me two gifts, this book and those lovely toys, but I only got you one gift.”
“To be honest, I enjoyed the toys, too,” offered Harry. Then he realized that he could use Hermione’s guilt to his advantage. “Although there is one way you can even the score, so to speak.”
“And what would that be?” she asked with a saucy grin, clearly knowing where Harry was going.
“Well, we’ve haven’t had sex in akitchen,” Harry said as if it was a curious thing to not have done yet.
“And my parents are out of commission, so we won’t be interrupted,” added Hermione.
“I have to fetch something from your room first,” began Harry.
“A toy?” she asked with her voice full of hope.
“Yes, a toy.”
“Which one? The beads again? The infamous Rorschach Branded Rubber Chicken? Oh, oh, the gag; please say the gag,” the brunette rapidly said in naked excitement.
“No, none of those. I was thinking about one we haven’t used yet,” Harry answered.
“There’s still more toys?” she asked and began to hop in place.
“Yes, a few more,” Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Now you go in the kitchen and get yourself ready while I get the toy.”
As Hermione bolted to the kitchen, Harry purposefully took his time retrieving the toy he had in mind. He wanted to play with his lover’s patience. When he walked in the kitchen after retrieving the toy, he noticed that while Hermione was waiting for him, she was still fully clothed.
“I thought you were going to get ready?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you,” she said, and then added “I didn’t want to start without you.”
“Well, then, it looks like I’ll just have to do all the work and get you prepared myself,” Harry said with a wide smile. He rooted around the drawers in the kitchen until he found a quilted oven-mitt. “Now bend over the counter,” he ordered while slipping on the mitt.
Because of the mitt’s protective padding, it took more effort than normal in his paddling to turn Hermione’s bottom a nice shade of red. But thanks to the quilting, it left a rather fetching pattern on her bum cheeks.
Now the toy that Harry used was quite unique, and Hermione thoroughly enjoyed it. The toy itself was a rubber ring with a small rubber troll standing on the top of it. The toy, being magical, did a wonderful thing: it moved. Now it didn’t do a dance or fly around the room or anything showy like that. But when the ring was in use, the troll would gently grab a certain small protrusion and vibrate. If extra description is needed, then please continue and read the next line; if not, please skip to the next paragraph. Harry placed the ring so that it was around the base of his first ever friend, ‘Harry, Jr.’, and when he entered ‘Miss Nibbles’ completely the animated troll promptly took hold of Hermione’s clitoris and began to shake and vibrate. Every time he pulled back, the troll tugged slightly at Hermione’s clit. And when he pushed back in, the magical toy snatched up her sensitive bud once again. This action was repeated, to great effect, with each thrust.
~*~
On Boxing Day, when she and her husband were finally able to stagger out of their room, Fiona announced to Harry and Hermione; “We need to have a talk.”
“Yes, mum,” Hermione answered with her best “I’d never do anything wrong because I’m your sweet and innocent little girl” voice.
“You did something with the cake didn’t you?” her father asked as he held an icepack to his groin.
“Um, what makes you think that?”Hermione asked. Her “I’d never do anything wrong because I’m your sweet and innocent little girl” voice was starting to fade a bit. She was such a poor liar.
Harry was trying to do his best at being invisible. He reckoned that the best plan was to be unseen by Hermione’s folks. Mind you, he knew full well that he was about to catch hell, but it would be less damaging to himself if he tried to lie and cover up the fact that the cake had indeed been spiked.
“We may not be magical, but we know that something happened to us after we ate the dessert,” Fiona said. With every word, a smile threatened to destroy her angry mask. Harry could tell that she was upset over the incident, but she was also damn pleased with it as well.
“Ah, well, to be honest, we did add something to it,” admitted Hermione. Harry was about to chuck his plan to stay silent out the window and point out that he had nothing to do with it. But he knew it would be bad form to rat out his girlfriend. Especially since the repercussion of said “ratting out” would include Hermione denying him sex for quite some time.
“And did that something cause your father and I to do something?” Fiona asked and Richard added in an undertone”Over and over and over.”
“Yes,” Hermione squeaked.
Fiona nodded her head sagely. “Well, we can only blame ourselves really.”
“Yes,” Richard agreed. “Wait — what?”
“We have been far too strict on the two of you,” Fiona continued with a sparkle evident in her eyes.
“We have?” Richard asked his wife, obviously surprised by this revelation.
“Yes, we agreed to ease up on our restrictions,” answered Fiona.
“We did? When did we do that?” he demanded. It was clear that he was unwilling to cut Harry any slack when it came to Hermione.
“Early Christmas morning,” Fiona stated. “Around four in the morning.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to anything,” Richard protested.
Fiona leaned close to her husband and whispered in his ear. After amoment, he objected, “That’s not fair. I’d have agreed to anything at that point. Especially when you do that!”
“Regardless, you agreed so we are going to give Hermione and Harry a little more freedom,” Fiona continued. The young lovers smiled happily. But Fiona was not smiling as she continued. “But not too much freedom. We’ll allow you two to hold hands and kiss lightly. But. We. Will. Allow. Nothing. Further.” She said firmly. “No hugging, no snogging, and definitely no sex while you’re under our roof.”
Harry knew that Fiona was ignoring the fact that she and her husband were holed up in their room for nearly two days and was obviously deluding herself by pretending that her daughter and Harry did not have sex during that time. But it was also clear that Fiona had truly enjoyed being holed up in her room, so she could ignore whatever had happened during that same period.
“I still don’t agree,” Richard said with a frown. “My previous statement agreeing to allow this situation doesn’t count, I was under duress at the time.”
Fiona leaned into her husband’s ear and whispered once more. After a moment, Richard, who was still frowning, announced; “All right, I agree to what your mother said.”
~*~
The remainder of the holiday was far less stressful for Harry and Hermione. The witch’s parents’ held true to their word and allowed the young couple to hold hands and kiss chastely. Of course Richard would still glower at Harry when they did this, but it was still better than having Hermione’s dad threaten to eviscerate him.
When the time came to return to Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione arrived early to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. They stored their things in a compartment and then made their way to the Head car for the Prefects’Meeting. After the train started moving, the Prefects joined Harry and Hermione in the car. Ron waved at his friends before sitting down.
“I tell you I can’t wait to get back to school,” the fifth year Hufflepuff Prefect announced once everyone had sat down.
“That’s the spirit,” Hermione congratulated him for his eagerness to begin learning.
“My parents were so-o-o depressing,”the Hufflepuff continued.
“Yours too?” a sixth year Ravenclaw asked.
“My Mum and Dad weren’t depressed,”a Gryffindor interjected. “They were too busy preparing for some attack that never came to be depressed.”
“What are you on about?” asked Hermione.
“Oh, our parents are paranoid,”someone offered.
“To say the least,” agreed another.
“My Mum and Dad even had a guard schedule set up,” yet another chimed in. “He’d take the ten pm to four amshift and then she’d take over so he could sleep.”
“Why were they doing that?” Hermione asked.
“They’re afraid,” Harry answered. He had yet told Hermione of what he had saw and heard while in Diagon Alley.
“Terrified is more like it,” some witch corrected.
“My Mum was so scared that we’d be attacked by giants or Death Eaters that she was losing clumps of hair.”
“But you’re in Slytherin,” another student asked. “Why would Death Eaters attack you?”
“That doesn’t mean me or my family works for You Know Who, you ninny.”
“But why would they be afraid?”asked Hermione. “Over a hundred Death Eaters were just chucked into Azkaban.”
“A hundred out of how many?” someone asked, echoing the fear that Harry had heard from a frightened wizard in the Leaky Cauldron.
“No giants were captured either,”another added. “You Know Who still has them.”
“It’ll be great to be back in the castle. At least there, no one frets obsessively over the war.”
“And I’ll get to see my witch again,” someone added cheerfully. “I haven’t seen her in days.”
“Once me and my bloke get the chance, I’m dragging him into the nearest cupboard,” another said with agenuine smile.
“Well, you’ll have to find another cupboard ’cause I’ll be using it to ravish my girl.”
“No, that just means you’ll have to budge over,” someone said with an easy chuckle. “I figure all the cupboards will be jammed pack tonight.”
As the conversation became lighter, Hermione gave Harry a worried look. Clearly she was concerned over the outlook of the war.
~*~
Once the meeting had concluded, the Prefects began to shuffle out of the car. Ron trotted up to Harry and Hermione.
“I have news that you won’t believe”the red head announced somberly.
Hermione and Harry waited for Ron to tell them this news, but the gangly wizard turned and headed to the door.
“Wait, what’s the news?” asked Harry.
“Oh, I’ll tell you later,” Ron said. “Luna said she wants to do it in the lavatory and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
With that, Harry and Hermione were left alone in the compartment.
“Why are people so upset?” she asked. “They should be overjoyed that so many Death Eaters were captured. We performed the Morgy Ritual to give them hope.”
“It seems like they’re too afraid to see that hope,” offered Harry.
Hermione shook her head. As a good boyfriend should, Harry turned Hermione’s attention away from such a troubling topic by suggesting, “Let’s do it.”
“Oh, how romantic,” Hermione said as sarcastically as she could.
“I’m not talking about romance,”Harry countered. “I’m talking about lifting up your blouse, pressing your bare titties against the window, and shagging you from behind.”
“That means if anyone is watching the train pass, they’d be able to see my breasts up against the window,” the brunette witch pointed out.
One should notice that she “pointed” this fact out and that she didn’t object to it. This is important, because less than five minutes later, Hermione had her naked breasts squashed up against the window while shouting “Fuck me, Harry, fuck me HARDER!” (Thankfully, Harry had placed a Silencing Charm on the compartment so that they wouldn’t draw a crowd. That was a bigger threat than normal since Harry had purposefully left the door unlocked, adding to Hermione’s arousal with the threat of being walked in on.)
~*~
A satisfied and tussled looking Harry and Hermione walked through the train to find their friends. As they passed through car after car, the couple noticed a majority of their peers were just as satisfied and tussled looking as they were.
When the duo finally reached their friends’ compartment, they found Ron sitting with Luna and Neville, but no sign of Ginny.
“You two won’t believe what happened,” Ron declared when Harry and Hermione entered.
“Ronald, I think Neville should be the one to tell them,” Luna (whose hair was so tussled that it looked like she recently had her head hanging outside of the moving train) said. The blonde fixed her eyes on Hermione and said in a dreamy fashion, “Oh, by the way, Hermione, I saw your breasts again when Harry had you against the window. Ronald had me dangling out of the lavatory window, and when the tracks turned I got a good view of your boobs.”
“That’s nice,” Hermione said dismissively, clearly not concerned over this revelation. “So what’s the news, Neville?”
“Ginny and I are married,” Neville answered with just a touch of embarrassment.
“So Molly found out Ginny was pregnant?” asked Harry.
“Wait, you knew she was pregnant? And you didn’t tell me?”demanded Ron. His face was quickly growing red with anger. “I’m your best mate and she’s my sister and you didn’t tell me?”
“They probably didn’t tell you because they knew this was how you’d react, Ronald,” Luna said to her husband. She then turned back to Hermione and complimented; “You do have lovely breasts. Would you like to see mine? It’s only fair after all.”
“I’ve already seen them,” Hermione pointed out.
“Hey, I’m still upset here,” Ron persisted.
“Yes, Ronald, but you shouldn’t be,”Luna said and then added to the other witch; “But I just saw your breasts, and I’m a strong believer in fair play.”
“It’s quite alright,” insisted Hermione.
“I have a right to be upset,” Ron carried on.
“No, you really don’t, my love. Harry and Hermione knew that you would take the news badly, so they logically didn’t tell you. Honestly, they were protecting you,” the blonde said off-handedly before returning to her conversation with Hermione. “I’ll feel terrible if I don’t show you my breasts.”
“If she really wants to, I say why not,” offered Harry as he tried to coyly position himself next to Hermione in the off chance that Luna would show her boobs.
“Harry,” warned Hermione.
“He does have a point,” Neville said as he, too, stood next to Hermione to enhance his chance at an unobstructed view.
“All right, fine,” Hermione said with a huff. “Whip them out.”
Smiling broadly, Luna popped open her blouse letting her enormous breasts spring free (Harry could’ve sworn he heard two “boing” sounds – one for each boob).
“My God,” Neville began.
“They’re,” continued Harry.
“Huge,” concluded Hermione.
“Have you three had enough of ogling my wife?” Ron demanded.
“Not just yet,” Harry said. Neville held up his index finger as if to say to Ron that he needed just one more moment. Of course, during this interchange, Harry, Hermione, and Neville had been staring wide-eyed at the blonde’s chest. Luna stood there, happy as a clam while three of her friends were transfixed with her melons.
“They are fascinating,” commented Hermione. “I’m not into women in the slightest, but I can’t help but stare.”
“Not really into women, huh?” Harry whispered in her ear so that she was the only one to hear. Of course, his eyes were still glued to Luna’s ample mounds. “That wasn’t the case when we performed the Morgy Ritual.”
“I told you then, it was just an advanced form of masturbating,” Hermione said in an equally soft voice. She then added, in a louder voice, “Do you see that blue vein on her left tit…”
“This one,” Luna said while pointing to her own breast.
“No, the one a few inches above it,”Hermione corrected and Luna moved her finger up. “Yes, that’s the one. Doesn’t that look like an outline of a Quidditch goal post?”
“What? Quidditch? Boobs?” Ron said as he pushed his three friends out of the way. While Ron gazed at his wife’s milky flesh, Harry commented internally that all the red head needed now was food and the three things that he loved most in the world would be wrapped up in one.
After everyone had gotten a good long look, Luna finally pushed and squeezed her mounds back into the confines of her blouse. A few minutes later, after everyone regained their composure, Ron (who was much calmer now) brought up his sister’s pregnancy again.
“So, the day after we get home, Ginny pukes at the breakfast table,” Ron began, still wiping the drool off of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Mum grabs her by the ear and hauls her to the bathroom. Apparently, she had already figured it out but she wanted to run a few pregnancy test charms on Ginny just to be sure. And when Mum got the results, boy was she mad.”
“Speaking of which, you no longer seem that upset that Harry and Hermione didn’t tell you about Ginny,” Neville pointed out. “Why is that?”
“My breasts have a calming effect on Ronald,” explained Luna. “That was one of the reasons I wanted to expose myself.”
“Just one of the reasons?” asked Neville.
“Yes, for another, I like exposing myself,” Luna answered honestly. “It’s rather fun. And another reason is I like to give the girls a breath of fresh air every once in a while. It’s not good to keep them confined like ahard shelled-marlwomp.”
“Anyway, Mum starts shouting and wailing,” continued Ron. “She demands to find out who the father is and Ginny tells her.”
“Let me guess, Molly forced Neville to marry Ginny,” assumed Hermione.
“No, it was my idea,” Neville answered. “Mrs. Weasley fire-called my Gran and demanded we head over to the Burrow. I pretty much knew that Ginny’s secret had been revealed. So I decided to do the right thing and ask her to marry me right when I got there. Thankfully she said yes a second before her mum shouted ‘Damn right you will marry him, Ginevra. My grandchild will not be abastard!'”
“It was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” Luna said in an extra dreamy way. “They had the wedding a few minutes later. Everyone was still in their pajamas and the vicar was in his bathrobe. Molly had floo’d over to his house and practically dragged him out of the shower for the ceremony.”
“How’d your grandmother handle it?”Harry asked the new groom.
“Surprisingly well,” Neville answered. “I think she was afraid that she was going to die before she got any great-grandkids.”
“Where’s Ginny now?” Hermione asked.
“The train ride made her so sick before that her dad got a Muggle auto from the Ministry and is driving her up to school.”
“That’ll take a while,” Harry said.
“Yeah but using the floo would be awful for her and I’m not even going to think about how bad the Knight Bus would be,” Neville commented.
“I take it Molly is still furious?”asked Hermione.
“Just a little; I think she’s excited about the baby but she won’t admit it,” Luna said.
“Yeah, and she spent a whole night yelling at Charlie, Bill, Fred and George. If Percy wasn’t such a prat and had been there, she would’ve yelled at him, too,” Ron said with a chuckle. “She said that they were dragging their feet in bringing her grandbabies. You should’ve heard how she moaned that she never thought Ginny would be the first one to be a parent and then yelled at my brothers for not doing their jobs. She hollered at Bill for not knocking up Fleur yet and even offered him some Fertility Charms. ‘I have one that makes the witch ovulate. Don’t make me cast it on Fleur when you’re not looking,'” Ron said in a high voice, apparently trying to imitate his mother (which he did poorly). “Then she screamed at Charlie and the twins for not even being married. George pointed at me and tried to throw me into the flames so to speak. ‘He’s married,’ George said, ‘yell at him.’ Mum cuffed him around the side of the head for that; hit him so hard she nearly took his ear clear off his head. ‘Luna, the dear,'” Ron began again in his dreadfully poor high voice.
“She did; she called me ‘dear’,” Luna said while beaming proudly.
“‘Luna, the dear, has another full school year after this one,’ Mum said. ‘You can’t expect her to have a baby while at school.'”
“Speaking of that, what’s Ginny going to do next year?” asked Harry.
“Well, she’s probably going to take the year off,” Neville said. “So she can take care of the baby. Me, my Gran and Ginny’s mum have offered to take help out so she can go back to school, but we’ll see what happens.”
“You do realize this means we’ll have to throw a baby shower,” Luna said with a happy smile. “Everyone’s invited.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m busy that night,” Harry said immediately.
“We haven’t set a date yet, Harry,”Luna pointed out.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying I’ll be busy doing something then,” Harry said with absolutely no subtlety. He had no intention of hanging around witches as they gushed over concepts like dirty nappies and stretch marks. “I don’t know what this thing is that I’ll be doing yet, but I know it will be vitally important and that I can’t go to the shower.”
“Whatever he’s doing, I’m with him,”Ron added.
“Yes, I’m sure I’ll need help in whatever it is that I’ll be doing,” Harry agreed.
~*~
Back at the castle and after supper, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender walked up to Harry.
“Hey, mate, welcome back,” Seamus said, and added in a serious manner; “we need to talk.”
“What is it?” asked Harry.
“You’re in trouble,” Lavender answered.
“Why, that’s unusual,” Harry said lightly. “I’ve never been in trouble before. Let’s see; does an instructor want me dead? Or could it be the most feared dark wizard has put a price on my head?”
“No, we mean it,” Parvati said. “We’ve heard some pretty disturbing things over the holiday.”
“Go on,” Harry said. He was expecting that the three would say that the people outside of Hogwarts were acting frightened.
“We stayed in the castle this year because the three of us wanted to spend some time together,” began Seamus, completely countering Harry’s assumption that they were going to tell him about the state of the world outside. “Anyway, Malfoy has it in for you.”
“Yes, I know,” stated Harry.
“No, not like he used to have it in for you where he’d tried to get you expelled or the like,” Lavender corrected. “I mean he fancies you.”
“We got that impression before we left for the holiday,” Hermione said with a bemused smile. “It was obvious by the way Draco kept eyeing Harry.” She continued, clearly enjoying the fact that this topic made Harry squirm in his seat.
“Well, we kind of made it worse,”Seamus admitted sheepishly.
“What did you do, you little bastard?” Harry demanded angrily. He already had enough problems with Draco and didn’t need anymore.
“You see, we were just talking to him on Boxing Day and asked why he thought he was in love with you,” Parvati spoke with apprehension. “It turns out he had some sort of nervous breakdown shortly after he and Snape escaped after… well at the end of last year. He was amess and there were rumors that You Know Who was going to order his execution. Draco then told us he saw that Daily Prophet article way back during the summer holiday where you were at Ron’s brother’s wedding and said that you loved Draco.”
“That was a misprint,” Hermione interjected.
“We know that,” Lavender said gently. “But Draco thought it was true. He became so inspired that he escaped. Fought his way to freedom and all that tosh. And now that he’s back here at school, he wants to be, you know,with you,” she concluded with an extra emphasis on the phrase ‘with you’ as if to drive home the fact she was using a euphemism for “he wants to stick his erect penis up your rectum.”
“But I’m not gay,” Harry objected.
Seamus suddenly became chipper and said, “Believe me, we know,” as he nudged his elbow into Harry’s ribs. “We saw the Pensieves, you kinky sod.”
“Did you tell him about Harry and me?” Hermione asked.
“Oh yes, some of the other students chimed in as well. A bunch of us were telling him about those Pensieves,” Lavender answered. “So it wasn’t just the three of us but everyone who stayed over the holiday tried to tell him the truth.”
“And he didn’t believe you?” asked Harry. He was slightly surprised to notice that he wasn’t embarrassed or concerned about talking so openly about the Pensieves that most of his peers had seen. Either he was no longer ashamed over that fiasco or he was just more worried about Draco.
“We even told him you were the MPL,” Lavender said as if the initials meant something.
“MPL?” asked Harry.
“Master Pussy Licker,” the blonde witch explained. Harry shrugged his shoulders in acceptance; it was a better moniker than “The Boy Who Lived.” At least he earned the name Master Pussy Licker.
“He said that you were just confused, Harry,” Parvati said. “He then said that he’d show you what love truly meant.”
“Obviously, he’s still delusional from his breakdown,” speculated Hermione. “He must have built up this fantasy world centered on you, Harry, and won’t accept the fact that you’re not in love with him.”
“Just great,” muttered Harry. He thought to himself that this situation couldn’t get much worse.
“Then Seamus made it even worse,”Lavender said with shame. Harry groaned pitifully.
“I didn’t mean to,” Seamus weakly defended himself.
“What did you do?” demanded Harry.
“It was an honest mistake,” Seamus continued. “I was just trying to tell him how ‘not gay’ you are.”
“He said to Draco ‘The only way you’d ever get Harry is to tie him down and bugger him,'” Parvati stated.
“Then Draco said that was a splendid idea and he’d do just that,” Lavender added.
“For the love of God!” screeched Hermione. “You challenged a mentally unstable wizard to anally rape my boyfriend?”
“It was an accident,” the Irish wizard said, stepping away from the angry witch.
“I don’t think Malfoy will really rape Harry,” offered Parvati. “Ever since sixth year, he’s been nothing but a spineless twat.”
“Mind you, I think he’ll try everything short of tying you down to sway you,” warned Lavender.
“Is there anyway to transfigure my pants into iron?” Harry asked as he scanned the Great Hall looking for Draco.
~*~
While they walked to their chambers, Harry kept looking around frantically. He was deeply, deeply concerned that Draco might hop out of the shadows, while very naked and very aroused, to tackle Harry.
“What do you think my Mum did to get my Dad to accept her terms over the holiday?” Hermione asked, clearly trying to ease Harry mind and distract him. “I mean he was adamant about us not even brushing up against each other. But then Mum whispered in his ear and he automatically agreed to allow us to hold hands.”
“She offered to let him bugger her,”Harry replied while still eyeing every shadow suspiciously.
“What makes you think that?”
“I reckon that since you got your bum from her, the two of you like the same things.”
“Oh,” she uttered in acceptance. Then Hermione stopped walking, and her expression and voice turned angry. “You were looking at my mother’s bottom?”
“Yes,” Harry said without guilt. “It’s a rather attractive bum.”
“You cheeky bastard, you ogled my Mum’s bottom,” Hermione snapped. “How could you do that? I mean, she’s my mother!”
“Well, I did say that you got your glorious bottom from her. And I was using her posterior as a comparison of time,” Harry said with a crooked smile. “And judging by how well you Mum’s bottom has held up, I think it’ll be glorious for a good long time to come.”
“You think my bum’s glorious?”Hermione said with a glow to her cheeks – her upper cheeks mind you. Although, Harry assumed that the glow in Hermione’s upper cheeks meant that the witch wanted to be spanked so that her lower cheeks would glow as well.
The wizard stepped up to his witch and slipped his hands into her robes. His palms glided over her belly, around her back, and down passed her skirt. Then, with time honed skills gained by playing with her bottom, Harry slid his hands under her skirt and massaged her bum.
“You’re not wearing your knickers,”Harry said. This drew the attention of ‘Harry, Jr.’. The organ pressed against his trousers and was shouting, “Let me see! I wanna see knickerless-Hermione for myself!”
“They’re in your pocket, remember,” Hermione said and pushed her hips against his. “After we shagged in the train, I gave them to you as a memento.”
“Oh, yeah,” Harry said. His right hand left her bottom and retrieved the lacy garment from his robe pocket.
Once again, Hermione pushed her hips into Harry, this time grinding her body against his.
“You keep doing that and I’ll take you right here in the hallway,” Harry half threatened, half hoped.
“Promise?” she asked while still rubbing herself on him.
“That’s it, I’m going to push you on the ground and have my way with you,” Harry warned playfully. “Of course you’ve been rather vocal lately, not that I mind in the slightest, but if I’m going to shag you in the middle of the hall I don’t want to attract attention to us.”
“You can always gag me,” offered Hermione.
“Hot damn, you’re kinky,” cheered Harry as he momentarily lost his composure. After regaining his cool, he slipped back into character. “It’s a shame that the ball-gag is in my trunk,” he paused and theatrically held up Hermione’s knickers. “However, I do have these.”
“Oh, that’s dirty,” Hermione said, or rather what she had apparently wanted to say. Harry was uncertain because the moment she had opened her mouth and said “Oh,”he placed the edge of her knickers into her mouth, effectively silencing her.
While both were blushing madly, Harry continued to stuff the undergarment in Hermione’s mouth. And while he stuffed, Hermione had straddled his leg and was rubbing her naked flower on his trousers. Once Harry had successfully pushed the knickers in her mouth, Hermione began to pull down his zipper.
“I know you two have grown into exhibitionists extraordinaire, but you should really get a room,” a familiar voice suggested from behind Harry and Hermione. They turned and saw Courtney, the Auror in training, standing a few feet away from them. In a panic, Hermione tugged her knickers out of her mouth. “Hot damn, you’re kinky, Hermione,” congratulated Courtney.
“I swear to God they’re clean,”Hermione explained desperately as she shoved the garment into her pocket.
“Yes, but you’re not, you dirty little witch,” Courtney said, her tone indicating it as a flattering remark while a naughty grin appeared on her lips.
“Uh, Courtney, what are you doing here? I thought your tour of guarding the castle was up?” asked Harry, hoping that his question would direct attention away from what he and Hermione were just doing.
“I volunteered for another tour just so I could see things like what you were just doing,” the Auror in training replied. “Now turn her around, hike up her skirt, and give her a spank. I just know she has to like it.”
“Um, so why’d you volunteer?” Harry asked, hoping to divert the conversation.
“I just told you,” she returned. “Give her a whack.”
“I was being serious,” Harry pressed.
“So was I,” Courtney said. “It’s so bad out there in the real world. You kids in here aren’t terrified of your own shadow. You lot are loving and living, not like the people outside. I just needed to come back here, to reaffirm life, if you know what Imean?”
“Is it really that bad?” asked Hermione.
“Yeah, it’s pretty horrible,”replied Courtney with a frown. “People only leave their homes for work and nothing else. They’ve barricaded their windows and spend their nights in fear.”
“That’s horrible,” Hermione muttered.
“And that’s why I had to come back here,” Courtney continued. “It was so bad that they were starting to drag me down with them. I came to the castle because you kids aren’t like that. I mean, out there, you won’t see folks shoving their knickers into their mouths, no sir.”
Hermione turned a brilliant red. Trying to recover some dignity for his girlfriend, Harry lied “We’re not like that. It was just a, um, joke. A fluke really, if you must know.”
“Bullshit,” challenged Courtney. “I heard about the Pensieves. So I know that you two are kinky enough to be shoving each others underwear in your mouths.”
“You know about the Pensieves?”Hermione asked.
“Yeah I know about them. But I didn’t see them so I feel all sorts of left out,” Courtney said. “I know; you can make me feel better by giving her a whack right here!’
“No,” Harry said flatly.
“Why not?” asked Courtney.
“Despite everything you’ve heard, we’re not exhibitionists,” explained Harry.
“Aw, you two are no fun,” pouted Courtney. “Well I suppose I’ll just have to go to that bloke who can draw well, I think his name is Dean, and have him make some sketches of what he saw in those Pensieves for me. Ta-ta,” she waved goodbye and skipped away from the young couple.
“Do you suppose it’s true?” asked Hermione after Courtney disappeared around the corner.
“What, about being exhibitionists?”Harry asked then answered. “Yeah, Iguess so. Otherwise I reckon we would still be upset over the notion of having everyone see us being intimate through those Pensieves. And then I had your naked titties pressed against the window a few hours ago, basically showing everyone the train passed by your boobs. So, yeah, we are exhibitionists.”
“We also willingly made an instructional Pensieve for Ron and Luna,” Hermione added. “But that wasn’t what I was asking about,” she corrected. “I was wondering if she was right about everyone being terrified.”
“Yeah, she was,” Harry answered. “I meant to tell you, when Iwent shopping the other day, I saw a lot of people and they were exactly how Courtney described. And when I spoke to Alicia, she mentioned that no body had been in her shop for days because no one’s buying anything.”
“That’s awful,” Hermione said with sorrow. “I can’t wait for this war to be over. But for now,” she paused and pulled her knickers out of her pocket.
Picking up on her cue, Harry snatched the knickers out of her hand and slowly pushed them back into her open mouth. Next, he bent her over, tossed up her robes and skirt to expose her bare bottom, and gave it a swat. Hermione moaned playfully as Harry rubbed the red spot on her bum. The witch let out amuffled shout when he swatted her bum twice in a row. Harry was about to deliver another spank when he heard someone clapping in a slow and deliberate manner.
“That’s really a nice bottom, Hermione,” congratulated Courtney as she continued to applaud. Apparently, as Harry and Hermione were getting prepared, the Auror in training had silently doubled back and was now leaning against the wall a few feet away, watching the show.
“Tkint oop,” Hermione mutter through her knickers.
“She said ‘thank you,'” translated Harry. He surprised himself by not trying to cover Hermione’s naked bum. Of course, Hermione didn’t try to cover herself up either.
“May I?” Courtney asked while looking at Hermione’s bottom.
“Be my guest,” Harry said and stepped to the side, surprising himself once more. It seemed to Harry that Courtney was right; he and Hermione had become exhibitionists.
Courtney brought her hand down on the brunette’s backside with a resounding smack. “Nice and firm. Do you work out?”
“Ekz tha ksklez,” gagged-Hermione replied with obvious pride. “Halk tha skaits moot ah guk werthaut.”
“She said ‘it’s the castle, all the stairs make a good workout,'” again, Harry translated. “But I think it’s genetics as well,” he added. “Her mum has a splendic bum, too.”
Courtney gave Hermione another hard swat and said; “That was fun. You two can carry on now.”
As she walked away, Harry asked the Auror in training “Are you leaving for sure this time?”
“Nah, I was going to hide in the shadows and watch you shag her if you don’t mind,” she replied and walked into a dark alcove.
“Fine, just keep an eye out for Draco,” requested Harry.
“Gotcha,” Courtney said. “I don’t know who Draco is, but I’ll put up aDo Not Disturb Ward in the hall. That’ll make anyone turn around and walk away if they approach. Now get on with the sex, I’m impatient.”
“Damn, we’ve grown kinky,” Harry said to Hermione.
“Yek, eev hak,” agreed Hermione before Harry gave her another good spank.
As they proceeded to give a show, Courtney was unseen but not unheard.
“Are you using your legendary Parsletongue magic?” she asked as Harry worked on Hermione’s flower.
“Yes-s-s, I am,” he replied in Parsletongue. He then added with pride;”This-s-s is-s-s why I’m called the Mas-s-ster Pus-s-s-s-sy Licker.”
“Oh, that must tickle,” Courtney noted.
A few minutes later, as Harry and Hermione progressed, Courtney began giving helpful hints from her dark hiding place.
“Harry, grab her bum. That’s it, dig your fingers in. And Hermione, why don’t you give his nipple atwist. Good girl.”
And;
“When you’re all the way down, grind your hips into his, honey.”
Also;
“Nibble on his ear. Oh, wait, you can’t with those knickers in your mouth. Okay then, you nibble on her ear, Harry.”
Then as Harry was clearly about to finish, Courtney asked “Are you going to cum in her or on her?”
“What – ah- do you – oh -suggest?” he grunted.
“Good porn always ends with the bloke cumming on the girl,” she said. “That’s my boy,” she cheered as he fulfilled her request. “Now rub it in her skin.”
As the two lovers were catching their breath, Courtney sauntered up to the half-naked pair. “You make a really funny face when you cum, you know that?” she asked Harry.
“So I’ve been told,” he replied.
“Here you go,” she said handing aballed up item to the wizard. “You can add it to your collection.”
As she walked away, Harry unfolded the ball Courtney had given him to find that it was a pair of pink silk knickers.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Seven: 2, 3, 4, give me more.
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-Seven: Harry and Hermione make up for lost time.
“I happen to have been enjoying that,” the ghost of Gryffindor said with annoyance as he pointed to the bulge in his trousers. He continued angrily; “Interrupting me like that was an incredibly rude thing to do. If my balls weren’t transparent, they’d be turning blue right now!”
“Do you think Icare, you nasty piece of filth?” Harry snapped. Harry wished, truly wished, that he could harm the annoying ghost at that moment. He wanted to show Gryffindor even a small amount of pain that he and Hermione were suffering. That,and the spirit’s antics had denied Harry anal sex. That was just low.
“We’re the laughing stock of the school,” Harry shouted. He made sure not to mention that Hermione wasn’t going to have sex until after this predicament was over; Harry knew that Gryffindor would revel in such information… particularly if it was about buggery.
“Trust me, boy, they’re not laughing,” the spirit said with a depraved smile. “They’re having sex or wankingoff – which is what I was about to do before you ruined the moment – but they’re definitely not laughing.”
“What did Ideserve to have you, a lecherous pervert, invade my life?” Harry asked rhetorically. “Not only did you spy on me and Hermione, but you passed around Pensieves from those invasions of privacy. Now, everybody in the castle has seen us together!”
“All right, boy, let me say this;” the ghost said gravely. “Yes, I did spy on you and your bird. You two are rather entertaining after all. In particular, that bit I was just watching there,” he said, gesturing to the silver liquid dripping down the wall. “Having her hook her legs behind her shoulders and then taking her while facing away, pure genius.
“But, and I cannot state this clearly enough, I. Can. Not. Make. A. Pensieve. Memory,” he said firmly.
“What?” Harry demanded.
“Think about it boy. If I could make Pensieves, wouldn’t I have shown you some of my more impressive exploits? Like the time I took a plump witch while standing on my head. Or when I sung ‘O, Britannia’ when switching between twins. Now that one was one of the higher points of my life and afterlife,” the ghost explained. “Besides, one needs a corporeal mind to extract Pensieve Memories. Sure, unlike a normal ghost, I have the fairly unique ability to affect the living, but my current status explicitly means that I no longer have a physical brain.”
Pondering over this statement, Harry realized that Gryffindor was telling the truth. Not so much in regards to the”corporeal mind” thing, but the ghost would’ve definitely done his best to scar Harry by showing him Pensieves of odd and perverted sex acts.
“Then… then who made those memories?” asked Harry desperately.
“Well, you could have watched the Pensieve and found out, couldn’t you? Walked around inside the memory and found the perpetrator,” the ghost speculated. “But that won’t work, will it? No, because you blew the damn thing to bits. Of course, if you hadn’t, you still would’ve had to wait your turn, because I was enjoying myself!”
“Oh, I’m sorry you couldn’t enjoy my suffering,” Harry snapped bitterly.
“Your suffering?” the ghost asked with asnide grin. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit, you melodramatic ninny?”
“Nearly everyone in this school has seen me and Hermione having sex!” the young wizard shot back.
“So what?” returned Gryffindor. “I would be proud if I were you.”
“But you’re not me. I’m not a pervert.”
“I’m not talking about the joys of sharing -which is loads of fun; especially’trains.’ That’s where once one bloke is done with a bird, you plow in; getting his stuff and hers on your junk. It’s all hot, wet, and sticky,” the spirit rambled. “I’m talking about making people happy.”
Harry was about to protest, but the ghost forged ahead.
“Sure everybody’s seen that funny face you make when you cum; where your left eye bulges and your right’s all squeezed shut while your mouth is open like a wide-mouthed troll. And most everyone has renamed your bird ‘April Showers’ behind your backs ’cause she’s a bit of a gusher as you well know. But you’ve missed the important thing here. You’ve made your peers truly happy,” the ghost said with a surprising amount of sincerity – in regards to the bit about being happy that is, the letch was smiling like the kneazle who ate thesnidget when he had said the word “gusher.” “I’ve been coming – and cuming – to this school for centuries; it’s a good place for an old voyeur like me to get his jollies. And I can say with certainty; I have never seen the students as happy as they are at this moment and it’s all thanks to you.”
“You’re telling me that everyone is perverted and they like to watch?” Harry asked bitingly. The thought of everyone wanking to the image of him and Hermione made his stomach turn.
“Harry, there’s a war going on,” Gryffindor said with a gentle smile. “People are dieing. And by all rights, these kids should be frightened. But they’re not. They’re running down the halls laughing and being happy. And you showed them the way.”
“I think you’re the one overreacting now,”Harry retorted.
“Am I? Harry, you and your wonderfully nimble witch have shown everybody that they should live their lives despite the war,” the spirit explained. “You two are in love and living your lives. Almost in spite of the tragedies around you. And through these Pensieves, you’ve told everyone to do the same, in effect.
“Also, you’ve help knock down the silly House rivalries,” the ghost continued. “There is a lot more interaction, both socially and scholastically, between the Houses now.
Harry thought over this for a moment. Had the Pensieves really done so much? Did everyone have hope because of him and Hermione? And he was also shocked and impressed by Gryffindor’s insight. From this conversation, Harry started to respect the ghost for his compassion and insight. Then Gryffindor dashed that respect to pieces with his next statement.
“For example; there’s this sixth year Slytherin, a blonde with gorgeous melons, and she’s dating blokes from other Houses. A year ago, she would’ve been ostracized for even talking to someone outside of Slytherin. That Slytherin witch is simply wonderful. After she watched one of your Pensieves, she took a sixth year Ravenclaw in her mouth, a fourth year Gryffindor in her bum, and two fifth year Hufflepuffs in her cunny… at the same time!” the spirit said with reverence. “Heavens, Harry my boy, you should’ve been there!”
Harry tried to fight the unconscious need to picture what Gryffindor had described. The thought of that many penises relative to the number of available entrances was somewhat disconcerting to the young wizard.
“It was glorious, two wizards, dueling one another with the wands their parents gave them in the same tight cave. It was epic,” the ghost said in awe. “She was covered in man juice at the end.
“Oh, look at that!” Gryffindor said, pointing at the bulge in his trousers. “Look who’s back. Maybe Ican find that Slytherin witch again and catch another show.”
The ghost waved at Harry before turning and trotting out of the room, humming happily to himself.
Harry eyed the silvery liquid as it dripped down the wall. He didn’t know if Gryffindor was right about his theory about the Pensieves making everyone happy, but the perverted ghost was certainly right about one thing. Harry could’ve entered the memory and found who was recording his and Hermione’s intimate moments.
The young wizard was drawn out of his thoughts when Gryffindor stuck his head back into the room.
“Oh, and if you do find out who’s been spying on you, tell me,” the ghost requested. “He’s a fellow perverted pilgrim and I’d like to shake his hand. Perhaps he and I can share stories… or even hand-jobs.”
~*~
To say that Hermione was worried about the still-unknown pervert spying on them was an understatement. When Harry had returned to his room, he found his girlfriend wearing a high-neck sweater, a pair of slacks and an ankle length skirt (at the same time), as well as two robes, one over the other. It was clear that the witch was worried to show even an inch of skin in fear that their unseen pervert would distribute the image all over the school. Harry, too, was just as frightened. The idea of anyone watching him and Hermione set him on edge.
Needless to say, this put a damper on Harry’s love life. The couple was afraid to do anything besides kiss lightly – and even then, they looked around to make sure no one was watching. Neither one daring to do more with each other in fear of the act being shown to their peers through Pensieve Memories.
Harry’s resolve lasted for two full days before ‘Harry, Jr.’ began to protest. No one could blame the member, just a few days before it had been promised an exciting new adventure with Hermione, in her dirty place no less, only to have the offer cruelly rescinded. While in the shower, ‘Harry, Jr.’ would gaze up at its friend with a pleading look in its eye, begging him to have a romp with Hermione. But Harry fought the urge, he needed to root out the voyeuristic pervert and make him or her stop before he could be intimate with Hermione again. ‘Harry, Jr.’ didn’t give a damn about any pervert; all the organ cared about was going into Hermione – any entrance would do at that desperate point – and dropping off a sticky package or two.
Added to Harry’s discomfort, every time he walked by a closed door, whether a broom cupboard or classroom, he could hear moans of passion emanating from the room. Apparently, the Pensieves had become incredibly popular to the point that it seemed that every student in the school was having sex… except for him. On two separate occasions, Harry heard “Maximus Intellegentia!” being shouted, meaning that his peers were performing the Wit Enhancing ritual. ‘Well, at least they’re learning something useful,’ he thought to himself.
On the third day after the confrontation with Gryffindor, a very sickening discovery was revealed to Harry. A very happy and bright, nay, downright joyous and radiant Professor Sprout bounded up to Harry. Smiling broadly, the plump professor said, “I know this is inappropriate for me to do, Mr. Potter, but I must thank you. Horace and I have found your instructional Pensieves to be,” at this point, the elder witch’s eyes began to twinkle wildly like sparkles, “well, rather exciting. It took a bit of effort, but Horace and I were able to perform the Wit Enhancing ritual.”
Suddenly, Harry felt very queasy. The mental image of Professor Sprout contorting herself into a twisted pretzel was unappealing, but on an infinitely worse scale, was the image of Professor Slughorn naked, much less shagging. In his mind’s eye, Harry saw the corpulent man, naked and sweating, thrusting away. The fat man’s face was a bright puce and his eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy. His fat was rippling in waves like the sea during a storm, sending his sweat showering all around.
“One hundred points to… no wait,” Sprout chirped. “One thousand points to Gryffindor!” she said with a flourish, and skipped away.
~*~
Ron and Luna joined in Harry and Hermione’s quest to find the pervert. But unlike Harry and Hermione, who were subtle in their inquires of their fellow students (asking simple, open questions such as “Have you seen anything interesting lately?”), Ron would walk up to someone and demand, “Have you seen my best mates go down on each other?” To which Ron got several different unhelpful responses, including “Not yet” and “Are you offering to let me watch?” Unfortunately, one time Ron had asked his question after leaving Dean and Seamus. The younger student being questioned “Have you seen my best mates go down on each other?” assumed that the red head had been referring to Dean and Seamus, leading to an embarrassing rumor about the two wizards.
Over the course of the next several days, Harry and Hermione were able to discern that their peers didn’t know who was giving them the Pensieves. They would wake up to find the Pensieve waiting for them on their bedside table. Or find the memories already set-up upon walking into a previously empty room. Also, during this investigation, Harry and Hermione were proposed to several times, asked to sign over a dozen autographs, and offered to watch a number of couples have sex so that they could give helpful pointers. Several witches and wizards actually began to strip in front of Harry and Hermione while suggesting an impromptu session of group sex.
~*~
One afternoon, Harry’s thoughts were drawn away from his worries about the Pensieves floating around and, to him, the more important building pressure in his loins caused from lack of intimacy, when he heard a student announcing to one of their friends:
“Draco Malfoy and his mum are in the castle!”
Knowing that Malfoy and his mother were meeting with Professor McGonagall in regards to being allowed to return to Hogwarts, Harry made his way to the Headmistress’office. He waited patiently in the hall in a dark alcove a few feet from the hidden entrance. A few minutes later, McGonagall and the two Malfoys exited the office. From his hiding place, Harry watched.
Narcissa Malfoy looked like a wreck. The witch had heavy dark rings surrounding her eyes and her once neatly quaffed blonde hair was now dirty and unkempt; sticking up at odd angles all over her head. A very noticeable facial tick had developed, it caused her to squeeze one eye shut and scrunch up her face every few seconds. Worst of all to the outside observer was the enormous lump on her leg. The growth, hidden by Mrs. Malfoy’s robes, trembled and made squeaking sounds. Harry fought the smile that was threatening to crack his face; Kreatcher was still doing his job. Harry had commanded the foul little elf to continuously molest Mrs. Malfoy’s leg and obviously it had wreaked havoc upon the pompous witch.
Draco, as opposed to his mother, looked very happy, jolly even. He had a full smile and a glow to his cheeks. Harry had never seen Draco with this expression before. Previously, when Malfoy smiled, it was always malicious or cruel; but this smile was genuine and kind. The young wizard’s attire was different as well. Instead of his normal outfit of black, silver and dark green, Draco was wearing a bright lime green cravat, periwinkle blue robes, and brilliant pink creepers. The blond wizard’s hat was flamboyant yellow with sparkling red stars.
“Thank you for your…” Mrs. Malfoy began to say to McGonagall but the unseen House Elf attached to her leg let out a loud groan accompanying asquirting sound. Mrs. Malfoy shivered violently and let out a bark like sob before composing herself. “Thank you for your time, Headmistress.”
With that, Mrs. Malfoy, with a slight limp, led her son away. Draco followed his mother with a noticeable prance to his step.
Once they were out of sight, Harry moved up to McGonagall.
“How’d it go, Professor?” he asked.
With a chuckle in her voice, the old witch replied, “Oh, Mr. Malfoy will be returning next Monday.”
“But I thought that you were going to discus this with the staff, me, and Hermione?”
“Mr. Malfoy proved to me beyond any doubt that he’s changed,” McGonagall said with a heavy dosage of mirth to her voice. “Changed in several ways, I might add.”
“But, Professor, Istill think he’s a threat,” he protested.
“Changed man, Potter,” the Headmistress reasserted. “In several ways.”
The witch had put an odd emphasis on the phrase “in several ways” and gave Harry one of her disturbing saucy winks. As Harry shivered in discomfort, McGonagall turned and walked back into her office. Once the Gargoyle moved back to cover the stairwell, Harry heard McGonagall’s riotous laughter through the stone.
Harry was upset, to say the least. Not only was he denying himself sex, but now he’d have to deal with that evil git Malfoy returning to school. He had looked forward to the meeting that McGonagall had promised. He was planning on arguing why Draco shouldn’t be allowed to return. But now, McGonagall nixed the meeting and had given Malfoy the go ahead to come back. Harry grumbled under his breath all the way back to his chambers.
“McGonagall’s letting Malfoy come back,” he informed Hermione who was still wearing multiple layers of clothing.
“Big whoop,” she said moodily, her heavily clothed arms folded across her chest.
“How can you dismiss this, Hermione?” he demanded. “McGonagall is letting a marked Death Eater, who at the very least participated in the attack against Hogwarts and in the murder of Dumbledore.”
“Because I’m randy as hell,” she shot back hotly. “I need to be shagged rotten and we can’t do it because some pervert is watching us!”
Harry slumped his shoulders. He, too, was desperate; there was nothing he wanted more than to feel Hermione. The thought of making Hermione moan caused his organ to twitch.
“I’m just sorry Iblew up that Pensieve,” he admitted, wishing that he could satisfy himself. “When I saw Gryffindor watching it, I was positive he was the one.”
“In a way, it made sense,” Hermione offered. “Despite the fact he doesn’t have a corporeal brain to extract memories from, Gryffindor can turn invisible. And obviously, the person watching can turn invisible, otherwise we would’ve seen them.”
Harry nodded his head. The person spying on them was either very good at casting a Disillusionment Charm or had an Invisibility Cloak.
Just then, as if by some Divine Intervention, some movement caught Harry’s eye. He watched as Dobby the House Elf trot around in the shadows, tidying up the place. He found it odd how the tiny creature could be so inconspicuous that he was barely seen. Then, Harry remembered a peculiar incident from a few weeks previously; he had peered into Dobby’s cupboard and seen shelves upon shelves of glass vials each filled with silvery liquid.
“Dobby, could you come here, please?” Harry asked, his voice even and patient unlike his demeanor which was beginning to become angry.
“Yes, Harry Potter sir,” the elf squeaked happily as he walked out of the shadows.
“Have you been watching us?” the wizard asked.
“Of course, Dobby be a good House Elf and good House Elves always be watching so’sthat we’s can be assisting whenever we’s can,” Dobby explained. “If you’s needs laundry, Dobby be ready. If you’s need food, Dobby be ready.”
“What are you getting at Harry?” Hermione asked. Harry knew that if Hermione had known about the glass vials in Dobby’s room, she wouldn’t have asked.
“Now Dobby, Iforbid you from punishing yourself, but have you been watching Hermione and Imake love?” clarified Harry.
The elf’s ears flattened against his head and he fidgeted, as if wanting to rush to the wall, to bash his head against it. With a tiny and meek voice, Dobby answered, “Yes.”
Hermione shot up and stared with wide eyes at the House Elf.
“Did you pass around Pensieve Memories to the other students?” asked Harry calmly.
Again, Dobby trembled and squeaked “Yes.”
“Why?” Hermione asked.
“Because Dobby is a bad House Elf,” Dobby said mournfully. “Harry Potter Sir and The Great One are more betterthan Dobby’s last Masters in every way; you’s are kind and wonderful, but you’s are also pretty and have fun romps. Former Master and Mistress would just have angry romps. Mistress would always say that Master would only care about himself cumming, that’s why Dobby had to finish her off.
“But Harry Potter Sir and The Great One love each other and it was wonderful to watch. Unlike former Master, Harry always makes sure The Great One has fun too,” the elf admitted. “It was so wonderful that Dobby began making Pensievesso that Dobby could watch the beautiful fun romps whenever Dobby wanted to.”
Harry and Hermione shared a look. Dobby had spied on them not only out of perversion, but innocence as well. The couple had been offended that their privacy had been invaded, but Dobby had done so for some odd sweetness.
“But why did you pass the Pensieves around?” asked Harry.
“Dobby saw how Harry Potter sir’s and The Great One’s Pensieve about licking the bald feline had helped Weezy and Weezy’sbig boobied missus and Dobby be thinking that alls the students in the castle could use help,” the tiny creature explained. “Weezy and Weezy’s big boodied missus were so happy that Dobby thought the other students should be happy as well. Dobby thought that since Harry Potter sir is such a great wizard and that Harry Potter sir has a saving people thing that Harry Potter would want to help as many people as he could.”
“So in order to help as many people as you could, you began to deliver them to everyone?”Hermione asked nervously.
“Yes, Oh Great One,” Dobby replied. “And it do be helping people. Just look at Colin Creevy’s not gay brother; he is now with the pretty twin from Ravenclaw. And hairy former roommate of Harry Potter sir is with blonde tramp and pretty twin from Gryffindor at the same time. It do be helping everybody!
“But Dobby knows that Harry Potter sir and The Great One do be humble, which makes them even more greater, so Dobby be delivering the Pensieves in secret.”
Harry and Hermione shared a look. They both knew that Dobby had no real clue about the damage he had caused. Clearly, Dobby knew he was in trouble for some reason judging by Harry and Hermione’s mood, but the creature had no understanding as to why. To him, he had done a great deed in Harry and Hermione’s names by sharing the Pensieves with everyone. And if Harry or Hermione tried to explain that Dobby had done something bad, the elf would surely punish himself in a terrible manner. There was a good chance that Dobby would hurt himself irrevocably. If Dobby had shared the Pensieves knowing what they would do to Harry and Hermione’s reputation, then the couple would not have been overtly distraught over the notion over punishment. But since Dobby had done it out of innocent naivete, any sort of self-punishment would be harsh. So, Harry took time to carefully consider what he would say to Dobby so that the elf would not harm himself.
“Um, Dobby, that was a very nice thing,” Harry said slowly. “But from now on, Hermione and I would like our time together to be private. That means you can’t pass the Pensieves that you made around anymore. And you can’t watch us be intimate together.”
“Yes, Harry Potter sir,” the elf squeaked. “But Harry Potter sir, can Dobby be watching the Pensieve Dobby already made if Dobby can’t be watching Harry Potter sir and The Great One do naughty things?”
“Um, Hermione?” Harry asked and turned to his girlfriend. The young man was quite surprised to see that Hermione wasn’t looking at Dobby but at Harry himself. Her eyes were dark with lust and she was biting her lip. Knowing that look meant that their forced time of “no sex” was about to end within seconds, Harry said dismissively to Dobby, “Sure, knock yourself out. Watch them as many times as you like.”
Dobby trotted to his little room and the instant the cupboard door closed, Hermione pounced on Harry. There was no kissing, no caressing or any foreplay to speak of. The only clothing that was removed was Hermione’s slacks – and they weren’t even removed completely, the garment dangled from one of her ankles. Harry was still wearing his robes, pullover, slacks, socks and shoes whereas Hermione was wearing two sets of robes, a blouse, skirt, and loafers. Harry’s zipper was opened and Hermione’s knickers were pushed to the side to reveal her flower a scant moment before Harry plunged into her.
If someone had been watching – which luckily this time, no one was – they would have assumed that Hermione and Harry were in a fight to the death. And that the witch was winning the battle. She had the wizard pinned under her and was thrusting her hips forcibly onto his lap. Loud smacks and grunts echoed off the walls. Evidentially, Hermione rather liked this action because she climaxed a few minutes after starting.
“Oh, fuck, Iforgot something,” Hermione groaned as she continuously pounded herself on Harry. While thrusting up and down rapidly, the witch fumbled through the pockets of her outer robe. “Don’t cum yet,” she ordered and began to search blindly through her inner robe’s pockets.
“Hurry up,” Harry pleaded. His body was begging for release and he was about to lose control any second.
Finally, Hermione retrieved her wand. She tapped it against her lower belly and incanted “Inaedifico.” After she had properly cast the Anti-Conception Charm, Hermione said “You can cum now.”
“It’s not a command sort of thing, really,” Harry groaned out. “I can’t just will myself to cum.”
“I meant it’s all right to cum now,” she clarified breathily and Harry grunted as if one cue. Hermione’s face lit up.
“That was fun,”she purred.
“Round two,” Harry said and rolled over, dragging Hermione to the floor so that he was now on top. Instantly, he began thrusting into her,
“OH -that’s – OH – my – WOW – virile – RIGHT THERE – man!” Hermione cheered.
“I haven’t had sex in days,” he grunted like a wild animal. “I figure I have at least another round or two in me.”
Harry tugged and pulled at Hermione’s robes and top. After a few moments, he finally tore open her blouse only to reveal “TWO BRAS!”
“I’m sorry – UH – I was – OH – worried about the pervert,” Hermione explained between thrusts.
“Damn it,” hissed Harry as he tugged at the lacy bra that covered the cotton one. “I want to give ‘Natasha’ a kiss.”
“‘Natasha’? Wait, did – HOMMINA – you name my titties?” she asked throatily while Harry fumbled with her unmentionables.
“Your nipples, actually,” he admitted without shame. “This one,” he said, indicating her other breast, “is ‘Carmella’.”
“Did – OH – you – MAMA – name my muff?” she asked as Harry finally freed ‘Natasha’ from its lace and cotton prison.
Realizing that he only referred to her vagina by its technical name or ‘flower,’ Harry answered with a simple “No,” while suckling on Hermione’s boob.
“UH – name – OH SHAG ME SILLY- my – SO FUCKING NICE – muff – NOW!”
After commenting internally to himself at how very vocal his girlfriend was, Harry pondered over her request. Should he give it another feminine name? Then he remembered that the House Elves called it ‘The Bald Feline’in worship. And Harry rather liked going down on aforementioned body part. So, he combined his love of eating Hermione out and ‘The Bald Feline’ and came up with the perfect name “Miss Nibbles.”
Hermione seemed to appreciate the new name for she called out in a significantly loud voice; “POUND ‘MISS NIBBLES’ WITH YOUR COCK!”
“Please, if you call it ‘Miss Nibbles’ I must insist you call my ‘cock’ ‘Harry, Jr.’,”corrected Harry.
“POUND ‘MISS NIBBLES’ WITH ‘HARRY, JR.’!” rectified Hermione. It was, after all, the proper phrasing for the situation.
A short while later, Hermione cried out her ubiquitous “OH SWEET BABY MAEVE!” and Harry congratulated himself on his prowess a second before he himself came. Having played twice in a row, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was beginning to fall asleep. As his organ softened, Hermione looked up at Harry with a mad twinkle in her eyes and said, “If you’re up for another go, you can bugger me.”
With the word”bugger” ‘Harry, Jr.’ sprang to life- quite literally; it rose so quickly that it jerked inside Hermione.
“Oooh, I’ll take that to mean that you’re ready,” she said coyly. Gingerly, Hermione removed herself from Harry and began to undress. “I’ve done some research on anal sex,” she began.
“Of course you have,” Harry joked, knowing that Hermione never did anything without proper research.
She spent the next few minutes explaining what they had to do. Harry nodded his head at each point: cleaning, lubricating, and stretching. ‘Harry, Jr.’ too nodded its head at each point. Now that the plan was set, Hermione moved herself so that she was on her hands and knees. Harry used his wand to cleanse her entrance (to which Hermione gave out a surprised yelp) and conjured some clear lubricant. Next, he coated his forefinger and Hermione’shole with the lubricant, spreading the slippery liquid while gently stretching her open. Then Harry slid in a second finger. That was when Hermione began to rock back and forth. Harry watched in wide-eyed fascination as Hermione writhed and groaned in pleasure.
“And just think, you told me once that we’d never do this,” he commented.
“I was such afool,” she groaned out. “Now keep stretching me out, I want you inside me.”
Two or three minutes later, Harry felt it was ready to move on to the real deal. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry pushed into her tight hole. He closed his eyes and marveled in the sensation of her heat and tightness. Inch by inch, he forced himself in. Finally, when he was completely inside of her, Harry opened his eyes.
Hermione’s skin was a florescent red and she was trembling all over. Harry could tell that she was also holding her breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked; ready to pull out if she said she wasn’t.
“Oh – FUCK YES!!”she screamed out.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he commanded, relieved that not only was his girlfriend all right, but that he could continue to bugger her.
“Call me a dirty slut who likes to be bum-shagged,” she commanded in response.
“Okay, just don’t forget to breathe, you dirty slut who likes to be bum-shagged.”
To say that Hermione enjoyed the activity would be a dreadful understatement. She cried out “Sweet baby Maeve!” twice in aloud voice; pronouncing each syllable clearly. The third time was a little less coherent and sounded something like”Seat Maybe Pave.” The fourth was just nonsense and syllables strung together. Harry assumed that she was drooling profusely at that point. He couldn’t confirm this because Hermione, obviously, was facing away from him. At first, he believed that it wouldn’t be polite to ask her if he was shagging her so well that she was drooling – one didn’t ask a woman such things. Then, he realized that he had his willy jabbed into her bum and therefore politeness was moot; so he asked.
“Is my dirty slut who likes to be bum-shagged drooling?”
The only response Harry got was a noise akin to someone blowing spit bubbles and happy moans. The last thought Harry had before his own ecstasy claimed him was ‘Damn, I’m good.’
~*~
It took Hermione two whole days to stop walking with a limp. The silly smile plastered on her face didn’t wane for three. On the fourth day, as they ate breakfast in the Great Hall, Ron bemoaned the fact that his nemesis, Draco Malfoy, would be returning in just three days.
“This bloody sucks,” he cursed and speared a kipper angrily.
“Harry told me that McGonagall reassured him that Malfoy’s changed,” Hermione said. It was clear that she barely believed the words herself.
Harry recalled that McGonagall took a great deal of amusement over the notion that Draco had changed. Remembering the Headmistress’saucy wink, Harry shivered in fear of what she had meant by that statement.
The morning post and Daily Prophets were carried into the Great Hall. As she read one of her text books, Hermione absentmindedly paid the owl that had dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet at her plate.
“Hey Harry, Hermione, my Mum and Dad have invited you two to the Burrow for Christmas,”announced Ron.
“Um, well, I was thinking about spending it with my parents this year,” Hermione replied. “It seems like I never spend any time with them ever.”
Hoping to avoid being invited to going with Hermione to her parents, Harry pointed at the folded Daily Prophet and asked “Are you going to read that?”
“No, not just yet,” she replied. “You can have it.”
After snatching the paper and unfolding it, Harry smiled, happy that he had avoided an invitation. But the moment he read the headline, Harry’s heart sank.
“Death Eaters Attack St. Mungo’s
A team of seven masked Death Eaters raided and sacked the wizarding hospital St. Mungo’s late last night. No one was severally injured during the attack, but the minions of He Who Must Not Be Named made off with a large supply of healing potions from the hospital’s storage.
An anonymous informant from the Ministry has speculated off record that YouKnow Who and his followers may have stolen the potions for an upcoming large scale battle.”
“Something has to be done,” Harry said morosely.
“What is it?” the brunette witch asked, fearing the worst.
Harry handed her the paper. She read it quickly, her face a mask of dread. But for some indiscernible reason, her appearance suddenly brightened. She smiled knowingly at Harry and said “Oh, something will be done. Don’t worry, Harry.”
“What do you have planned?” he asked.
“You’ll see,” she answered cryptically. “It will all depend on the outcome of an errand I’ll have to run during lunch. But if everything works out, ‘something will be done,’ trust me.”
Hermione refused to elaborate on her plan. Later, as the couple was making their way to the Great Hall for lunch after morning lessons, Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek and said, “I’m off to run that errand.”
“You want me to come with you?” he asked. “I can help.”
“No, I think it will be better if I go alone,” she said and waved her hand. “See you in a bit.”
Without another word Hermione dashed down the corridor heading for the castle’s door. Curious about what his girlfriend was up to, Harry continued on to the Great Hall. He was quite surprised when he entered the Great Hall. There, sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Luna, was Hermione. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Harry sat next to his girlfriend and asked, “Weren’t you supposed to run some secret errand?”
“I’ve done it and come back already,” she informed him.
“How could you have? I just left you about a minute ago.”
“That can’t be, Harry,” Luna said in a detached way while she scooped some of her food from her plate to Ron’s thereby saving her husband from having to nick food from her plate. “Ronald and I got here early and Hermione was waiting for us. And we’ve been here now for at least five minutes.”
Harry looked at Hermione in bewilderment. In response, the brunette witch smiled and winked at him. “You’ll understand tonight,” she said coyly.
Harry couldn’t focus on his afternoon lessons. His mind kept wandering to what errand Hermione had done and how it would help retaliate against Voldemort. As if to irritate Harry even further, Hermione refused to even acknowledge that she had even run an errand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry,” she had said during dinner with a naughty smile. “Ron and Luna told you I was here in the Great Hall the entire time.”
That night, after supper, Harry and Hermione entered their chambers.
“Are you going to tell me what you did today?” he asked.
“Oh, you’ll see,”she said with a devious smirk.
Before he could ask any further questions, Hermione trotted into the bathroom. Harry shook his head. ‘That girl’s aching for a spanking,’ he thought to himself.
A pungent smell caught Harry’s attention. He followed his nose to the spare bedroom and opened the door. He found Hermione standing over a simmering cauldron.
“Wait, how did you get in here?” he asked, deeply confused. “I just saw you enter the loo.”
“Surely I had to pee,” she said off-handedly and poured a pink liquid into the cauldron. “I do that from time to time.”
“But I didn’t see you leave the loo,” he protested.
“What can I tell you, I’m quick,” she replied casually. “Now leave, this is complicated and I can’t have you messing it up by distracting me.”
Harry walked out and closed the door. The moment the door snapped shut, he heard it lock magically. Wondering why she was being so mysterious, Harry sat on the couch and contemplated what Hermione was doing.
It had something to do with the Death Eater attack they had read about this morning. Hermione had told him that she had to run an errand but he found out that she didn’t because she was waiting for him in the Great Hall. And now she was brewing some kind of potion.
A half hour later, Hermione came out of the bathroom. Harry was about to ask how she left the spare room and entered the bathroom without him seeing her, but her attire – or the lack of attire – drove that question from his mind. The witch had slowly strolled out of the loo wearing nothing but a scarlet colored scarf wound around her eyes like a blind fold.
“I happen to be the luckiest bloke in the world,” Harry beamed. Joyous thoughts about how kinky Hermione was swirled through his head. Perhaps he’d bind her hands, give her a good spanking, and then make love to her. “I have such an adventurous girlfriend.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Hermione said but her lips didn’t move. Harry blinked, confused. Not only did she not move her mouth, but the voice was coming from inside the spare bedroom.
“Did you just throw your voice?” he asked.
“I didn’t say anything,” Hermione said, this time her lips moved with the words. She pointed to the spare bedroom and added”She was the one who spoke.”
Just then, another person walked out of the room. Harry’s eyes bulged in wonder. The person looked exactly like Hermione, same hair, same jaw, same breasts, same shaved Miss Nibbles. The only difference was the second witch was wearing a green blindfold.
Blindly, the green-blindfolded Hermione walked up to the one wearing a scarlet scarf. Her hands fumbled a bit before cupping the other girl’s face. Slowly, the two identical looking witches kissed. It was a soft and gentle kiss, but far from innocent.
“Wow, I’m a good kisser,” scarlet scarf Hermione commented.
“Then you’ll like this,” the green scarf Hermione said and began kissing her doppelganger once again. But this time the witches obviously became more comfortable, their tongues came into play. Harry could see one girl’s tongue slide into the other’s mouth. That was enough to send Harry over the edge. The image of seeing his naked girlfriend kiss another witch who looked exactly like her (especially the naked bit) made the wizard lose control. With a primal grunt, Harry fell off the couch and came down his leg.
“What just happened?” scarlet-Hermione asked.
“He just shot his load down his trouser-leg,” the green replied. “Thank goodness I made plenty of stamina and virility potions.”
“Wh-what’s going on?” Harry asked.
“That errand I ran today was to fetch a Time Turner. I went to the Ministry and got one. Actually, Igot it through a time paradox, but you’ll see,” Hermione replied. “I figured that I’ll just use the Time Turner to make duplicates of myself, in a fashion.”
“Not duplicates really,” the green-Hermione corrected. “I just happen to be a future version of you.”
“True,” agreed scarlet-Hermione. “But ‘duplicate’ is easier to say than ‘my future self,’ especially since our mouths will be busy in a moment. We don’t want to waste time by saying ‘future self’ when ‘duplicate’ is much more time saving.”
Normally, Harry wouldn’t bother to ask the reasoning behind Hermione’s decision, particularly seeing that the outcome meant he just got to watch Hermione tongue-kiss herself, but curiosity got the best of him. “How? What? Why?”
“The ‘Morgy Ritual,'” scarlet replied. “With the Time Turner, I can make duplicates of myself. That way we can have multiple partners and perform the ritual without asking another couple to join us.”
“Yes, and Ialready drew the symbol and identified the targets as people bearing the Dark Mark,” green added. “So all we have to do now is have some fun.”
“Why are you wearing blindfolds?” Harry asked. He was honestly surprised that he could form coherent sentences at that moment. “Is it some sort of Paradox thing? You can’t see your past self or something?”
“Well, that’s one reason,” scarlet answered.
“That and I, or rather we happen to be very kinky,” green added.
“So… I get to have sex… with both of you… at the same time?” he asked in a near delirious state. “Manage a three-way,” Harry muttered in absolute awe at the sight in front of him; two versions of Hermione, one wearing a scarlet blindfold and the other green, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“That’s menage a trios, Harry,” green blindfolded Hermione corrected.
“Actually, bump that up one,” Hermione’s voice came from the bedroom shortly before a third copy of the brunette witch strolled out. She adjusted her yellow blindfold before taking her place next to her two doppelgangers.
Harry’s head started to spin slightly. To him, this could not get any better. Then a fourth Hermione, this one wearing a blue blindfold, walked out of the bedroom.
“Oh-my-God,” Harry half groan, half whimpered. His green eyes, which were sparkling in delight, shot from one Hermione to the next. “Two… four… six… eight… eight titties!”
“He can still count,” commented blue-Hermione. “That’s a good sign that we haven’t given him an aneurism… yet.”
“Eight titties,”repeated Harry.
“Are you saying we’re going to give Harry an aneurism?” scarlet Hermione asked her future selves.
“Eight titties; that means eight nipples. Four ‘Carmella’s and four ‘Natasha’s. Eight!”Harry cheered and a bit of drool dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“Make that ten,” a very familiar voice called out from the bathroom. This time, a Hermione wearing a purple blindfold walked out. But before she took her place with her identical peers, a sixth Hermione with a white blind fold sauntered out and announced “Actually, twelve titties.”
As a Hermione with a white blindfold walked out of the bedroom, scarlet Hermione commented “Five copies? Did I get that daring to have six of us?”
“Yes, I figured why stop at just four of us,” white-Hermione said, “or five for that matter.”
“Besides, you’ll need the extra help soon,” green-Hermione added.
“What do you mean?”asked scarlet. “I made plenty of stamina and virility potions, but I think that five of us could handle one Harry.”
“You’ll see,” one of her future selves answered.
“Let’s have some fun,” white-Hermione said. Blindly she grabbed green and blue’s hands and led them to Harry who was still sitting on the ground. She arranged her copies around Harry so that one was on either side of him and one was in the front. Then, as if they had planned it, all three Hermiones leaned forward, pressing their breasts into Harry’s face. The poor boy was suffocating in breasts. He thought “What a wonderful way to die; choking on boobs.”
“He doesn’t need avirility potion just yet,” one of the three smothering Harry said. “I can feel his willypressing on my calf.”
“Girls, girls, back up,” one Hermione from across the room requested. “I want Harry to see this.”
As the wall of breasts that had covered Harry’s face parted, he caught a much more spectacular view. Sitting on the couch, with her legs spread wide, was scarlet Hermione. Propped up next to her was yellow Hermione. The yellow blindfolded version’s hand trailed up the scarlet witch’s thigh toward her snatch. It was the next second that Harry’s heart stopped beating.
“It’s kind of like masturbating,” yellow commented as another of her fingers came into play. “I mean this is my vagina technically speaking.”
“Someone take care of Harry, the poor boy’s about to blow up,” one Hermione suggested.
“Does it have to be ‘someone’?” blue asked, placing extra emphasis on the ‘one.’
Blue and green Hermione got down on all fours and placed their faces over Harry’s engorged organ.
“today is the happiest day of my life” Harry squeaked in an incredibly tiny voice. Harry proved how manly he was by lasting a whole forty-two and three quarter seconds before cumming for the second time. It was truly a manly act seeing how he was watching one version of Hermione stimulate another version while two others licked and suckled his bits.
“Did you just swallow?”blue asked green.
“Yes, I did,”green replied.
“That was very rude,” blue chastised. “Next time, share.”
“Someone mentioned stamina potions,” mumbled Harry. It seemed that he had very poor control over his motor functions and speaking was difficult.
“Yes, Harry, there’s a bunch in the spare bedroom,” three Hermionesanswered in unison.
As Harry staggered and stumbled to the bedroom, he overheard one Hermione comment “Hmmm… I wonder what ‘Miss Nibbles’ tastes like?”followed very quickly by another Hermione yelping in surprise.
The young wizard held his hands on the sides of his head like blinders. He knew that if he saw what he thought was happening behind him, he’d most likely die from pure joy. Although it would be a nice way to go, he’d rather last a bit longer. Perhaps even be between the two versions of Hermione while they did what he thought they were doing. Hell, he’d like to give them pointers. Yes, he reasoned, dieing while participating would be a much better way to go than just watching.
But to be able to participate more, he’d need that stamina potion. ‘Harry, Jr.’, despite the ample amounts of naked Hermionesencouraging him, was fast asleep. Obviously the things he had just seen and having received head from two Hermiones was just too much for the member. Also the thought of pleasuring six Hermiones was intimidating. So Harry needed as much help as he could muster.
Lying on the table next to the cauldron were three dozen small bottles containing a bright red liquid. Clearly these were the stamina and virility potions that Hermione had made. Harry quickly gulped downed one bottle and was about to head out the door when a glimmer of light caught his eye.
He found a tiny gold Time Turner sitting on the table just behind the bottles of potion. Harry smiled as a devious thought occurred to him. If Hermione could use the magical device to make duplicates of herself, so could he.
Much like one of the reasons Hermione had donned a blind fold – besides being kinky – Harry didn’t want to tempt a paradox, so he decided to wear a blind fold as well. He found an old school robe lying over a chair and quickly tore off a length of it. After wrapping it around his eyes, he reminded himself to use the Time Turner sometime in the future, perhaps in the morning, and return to this time. Just then, Harry heard a pop.
“Hi, Harry,” a masculine voice greeted him. “It’s me, Harry, from about nine hours in the future.”
Another pop and someone announced “I from twenty hours in the future.”
Another two pops sounded, one after the other. Then the cupboard in the corner of the room creaked open.
“Don’t remove your blindfolds,” another Harry commanded. “I’m from a few days in the future. I sort of helped Hermione get the Time Turner.”
“Really, how’d you do that?” the current time Harry asked.
“You’ll see,” the other replied. “I’ve been hiding in this cupboard, waiting for you blokes to show up.”
“Well now that you’re all here, let’s go ravish some Hermiones,” one Harry cheered.
Harry felt a tap on his shoulder followed by a suggestion in his own voice “Let’s double team one of them?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You know, two blokes, one bird, no waiting,” he answered.
“Do you think she’ll mind?” the current time Harry asked.
In response, all the other versions of Harry laughed uproariously.
“All right, everybody take a dose of the potion,” one ordered. “We’ve got a lot of witches out there and we need to be ready for repeat performances.”
After a bit of fumbling and a few bottles clinking together, everyone was ready. Harry knew this because someone was poking him in the side and it wasn’t with their finger. “Do you mind? Budge up.”
“Okay, we’re all ready?”
“Yeah,” was the chorused answer.
“Then let’s do this for justice!”
“Wait, ‘justice’?” one asked. “What do you mean?”
“We’re performing the Morgy Ritual,” another answered. “We’re inflicting pain on Death Eaters.”
“Oh, I thought we were doing this for mad sex.”
“Good point.”
“Okay… let’s do this for justice and mad sex!”
With that battle cry, the multiple Harrys charged out of the room(Harry heard one or two of his counterparts bang into walls).
“It’s about time you got out here,” one Hermione stated. “Some of us started without you.”
“Hermione, uh, the Hermione with the scarlet blindfold, that is., remember when I said you’d need the extra help of five copies,” another Hermione said. “Well, you’re about to find out first hand just what I meant.”
What followed was a loud and rambunctious, almost chaotic, orgy. Bodies pressed against one another. Fumbling limbs and screaming orgasm.
The current Harry was able to fulfill one of the future Harry’s suggestion of “double teaming” a Hermione. Current Harry was on the bottom (and in the bottom), future Harry was on the top, and Hermione was sandwiched between (and Harry guessed that it was the current time’s Hermione because of the future Hermione’s playful warning about needing the extra help). And Harry understood now why his future selves laughed when he asked if Hermione would mind. The witch was shouting loudly the word “Yippie” and the phrase “Oh Fuck Yes!” repeatedly.
“Now, this is how you properly share,” one Hermione stated a few minutes later. This version of the brunette witch sounded as if she was holding something, perhaps a kind of liquid, in her mouth.
“Yum, thanks. Now I see what you were saying,” a different Hermione, who also sounded like she now had something in her mouth, said.
When everyone had climaxed (which gave the room a peculiar aroma), one Hermione asked; “Wait asecond, how many Harrys are there?”
“Dunno,” a Harry, one who sounded like he was somewhere near the end of the couch, replied. “Lost count.”
“All right then, sound off,” she demanded. “Count yourselves.”
“One,” the first Harry called out.
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Five.”
“Six,” a final Harry called out.
“Okay there are six of each of us,” concluded one Hermione.
“Um, actually, there are seven Harrys,” another Harry announced. “When everybody was counting off, I had my mouth full.”
“Damn right you did,”another Hermione said in a breathy and satisfied voice.
“Fine then, that makes thirteen of us all together,” one Hermione stated.
“And the ritual only listed the effects up to six participants,” another Hermione picked up. “I added another ‘me’ just to give it a little boost.”
“And if six participants meant the targets felt as if they were on fire and there are thirteen of us…” a third Hermione continued.
“That means the Death Eaters must be begging for mercy right now,” a fourth concluded.
“Well, I know everyone here will be disappointed, but thanks to the stamina potion, I have another go left in me,” one Harry announced with mock concern. “Damn thing won’t go down.”
“Oh, no, so do I,”another Harry stated. “Lousy erection.”
“Me too,” a third fake pouted. “It’s just sitting there throbbing away.”
“Me three. Oh, what can we do?”
“Aren’t you other four going to add anything?” a Hermione asked the darkness. “Perhaps some crude comment about being ahuman ring-toss or hat-stand?”
“One of them isn’t verbally telling me he has another shag left in him,”one Hermione grunted happily. “He’s showing me; and quite admirably at that.”
“Hey, Hermione, you have something in your mouth,” one Harry pointed out. To which the Hermione he was speaking to responded:
“No I don’t-gth mumh ghiz,”she sputtered as if something had been pushed rapidly into her mouth.
“You boys be careful and check your aim,” one Hermione offered. “You don’t want to poke the wrong person.”
As if on cue, one Harry shouted “Ow, damn it. Watch out.”
“Sorry,” another Harry apologized.
“Try going a foot to your left.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s it!” a Hermione cheered. “Dead on target!”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” one Harry said to the other. “I think I found it.”
MultipleHarrys, multiple, Hermiones, and multiple orgasms. Overall, it was a very good night.
~*~
All over the British Isles that night, screams were heard. And not just from the Head Students’quarters.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Five
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 Five Summary: Things get revealed at the reception… along with Harry and Hermione’s relationship.
“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione implored while tugging on Harry’s arm as he stomped over to the laughing duo of Remus and Tonks. “What did that old witch mean about a menu? And why are those two laughing?”
“Because HE…” Harry hissed and pointed an accusing finger at Lupin, “is a Marauder!”
“He… he…” stammered Hermione while looking between Harry and Remus. “He pranked us?” she asked of Harry. Before he could respond, she turned to Remus and asked, “You pranked us?”
“Guilty as charged,” confessed Remus in-between peals of laughter.
“You… You lousy prat!” Hermione shouted, her face twisted with rage. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Harry was about to join Hermione in her tirade when he noticed her features soften. Her rage-filled expression transformed into the same look she had at the beginning of every class they shared. The look clearly showed her desire of learning something new.
“How did you do it?” pleaded Hermione.
“By discretely placing Confundus/ Charm/ on the two of you before we sat down,” Remus stated, finally controlling his laughter. Tonks, however, continued to laugh hysterically. In fact, Harry thought that she appeared to be on the edge of soiling herself.
“Oh Merlin that was brilliant!” declared Tonks. “Seeing how much goo Harry had on his face yesterday, you must squirt like a fountain Hermione!”
“Shut it, Tonks!” Hermione ordered and then turned her attention back to Remus. “But a Confundus doesn’t work that way-” Hermione began. Luckily for Harry’s sake, she did not see him silently nod affirmatively to Tonks’ comment. Hermione did in fact, squirt like a fountain.
“That’s why I applied Pilliwickle’s Theory to the charm,” informed Remus.
“That can’t be right, either. Pilliwickle’s Theory only relates to /Memory Charms/…” Hermione began to argue, but trailed off as she suddenly got a look on her face as if she was doing complex long division in her head. After a moment, she announced her understanding with a simple, “Oh, yes, that could work.”
Harry picked up Hermione’s dropped anger, “You still nearly gave us heart attacks!” He was still mad at his former DADA professor for the prank. Harry was also a little mad because he had no idea who Pilliwickle was nor any theory named for him so he felt left out of Hermione and Remus’ discussion which made him a touch bitter. “We thought everyone saw what we saw!”
“It was better than what Tonks had planned for you,” Remus defended himself, and Tonks abruptly stopped her riotous laughter. “She wanted to hook up a magical projector to a Pensieve and show everyone here in attendance just what it was that she saw yesterday morning.”
The two teens gasped at the mental image of a holographic rendition of themselves hovering over the reception party; their naked bodies intertwined for everyone to see. Harry realized that if Tonks had done just that, quite a large contingent of the wedding party would be shocked to say the least. He reckoned that the motherly Mrs. Weasley would faint, Ginny would more than likely sob, and Ron’s face would become red with rage. However, Harry imagined that Fred and George’s reaction would be more along the lines of “Nice form mate,” and “Didn’t you get a crick in you neck doing that?” Both Harry and Hermione turned their attention to Tonks. The eternally pink-haired Auror recoiled at the visible anger in the two teens’ eyes.
Harry and Hermione’s verbal assault on Tonks for her loathsome plan was prematurely aborted when a lanky red-head wizard stepped in Harry’s way and blithely said, “Hi, Harry!”
Ron, after greeting Harry, turned his attention to Hermione. Ron’s face got very red and a hopeful glint shined in his eyes. “Hello there, Hermione,” he greeted in what he assumed to be a seductive manner. Harry thought it would’ve been more seductive if Ron hadn’t stammered and even more so if his voice didn’t hitch and crack slightly.
Behind him, Harry could hear Hermione make a small “eep” noise out of panic. The bespectacled wizard forgot his anger toward Remus and Tonks as he looked at his two best friends. Ron, his best mate, was obviously very happy, for he was literally hopping in place as he looked at the brunette witch. Hermione, however, looked like she was on the verge of a stroke-inducing panic attack.
Harry remembered that Hermione wanted to be the one who told Ron about their newfound relationship, and that she said that she had an intricate plan on exactly what to say and how to tell him. She probably had even gone as far as to draw diagrams in her daily planner. But the look in Hermione’s eyes told Harry that not only did she forget what she had planned to tell Ron, but that she was about four steps beyond nervous, well into terror territory.
Hermione looked between Harry and Ron nervously, once, then twice, but on the third nervous glance, she spotted something in the distance. Harry followed her eyes to a small, furry, purple creature, sitting on a low wall near the house. It took Harry a moment to recognize it as Arnold, Ginny’s pet Pygmy Puff. Hermione tore her eyes away from Arnold to stare at Ron. A very long and silent moment later, Hermione looked back at Arnold and with a hint of panic in her voice, announced, “Oooh, look a tribble!” She then promptly scurried away like a frightened mouse toward Arnold, leaving Harry alone with Ron.
“What’s a tribble?” asked Ron, who looked a little perplexed but was still hopping in place like an idiot.
“It’s a Muggle thing,” Harry answered simply as he saw Hermione pet, in an almost frantic way, the brightly colored creature.
“Whatever. Anyway, you owe me, mate,” Ron declared as he playfully thumped Harry on the shoulder. Although the thump was less “playful” and more “painful”; apparently among many things in his life, Ron didn’t know his own strength.
“Owe you for what?” Harry asked as he rubbed his soon to be bruised shoulder.
“You owe me for interrupting a perfect moment,” began Ron. “When you Owled Hermione the other day asking her for help, I was about to ‘/dodge the second bludger/’, if you know what I mean.” Ron concluded this statement with a saucy wink. At that moment in time, Harry realized that he would be more than content if he never saw Ron give him a “saucy wink” ever again. It was even more disturbing having his best male friend give him a “saucy wink” than it was when McGonagall had given him the “saucy smile.”
“No,” Harry answered trying not to shudder at the inappropriate wink, “I don’t know what you mean. Not in the slightest.”
“You know…” Ron said impishly and made a rather rude hand gesture as if he was cupping a breast, either that or kneading dough — Harry wasn’t too certain.
“Oh,” Harry replied. He was stunned. He and Ron never spoke before about things like fondling boobs, especially Hermione’s boobs. Ron, being Ron and not noticing Harry’s stunned expression, walked over to the table where Tonks and Remus were at and sat down in Hermione’s vacant seat. As Ron picked up the purple pamphlet, he gestured for Harry to sit next to him.
“Beef stew, blood pudding, grilled heron, and spotted dick,” Ron stated clearly to the menu. After four plates with copious amounts of food piled on them appeared in front of Ron, he handed the pamphlet to Harry. “Eat up, Harry.”
Harry looked at the pamphlet once more. Unfortunately all he could see was the same practical joke that Remus had engineered. His eyes involuntarily focused on the phrase: “…/Ms. Granger is inclined to get very wet/ …”
“Ugh, I don’t care much for the heron at all,” Ron said as he pushed one of the plates away from him. “But I heard the trout’s supposed to be pretty good.”
“Oh, I know Harry likes red /snatch/-er, whoops slip of the /tongue,/” Tonks said with far too much emphasis on “/snatch/” and “/tongue/” and still had that damned devilish look in her eyes. “I meant to say ‘red snapper’.”
Harry groaned pitifully at Tonks’ crude behavior and Remus deftly changed subjects before Ron caught on. Of course, knowing Ron, the only way the red-haired wizard would catch on is if Harry explained Tonks’ statement by saying “Tonks caught me eating out your girlfriend.” He tends to be a bit slow you see.
“So Ron, what have you been doing with your holiday?” the not-so-former-Maurarder-because-he’s-still-pranking asked
“There’s not much to say,” Ron responded, “except for me and Hermione getting together.”
“What?” Remus and Tonks blurted in unison. They looked at Harry questioningly. Apparently, they didn’t know that Hermione and Ron had started dating around Dumbledore’s funeral (which, Harry thought unflatteringly, as everyone knows, is a great place to pick up birds). Nor did they know that Hermione soon realized that she and Ron had absolutely nothing in common, whereas she and Harry had a great deal in common. With a simple shrug of his shoulders, Harry tried to tell them this all, and more importantly to Harry, just how perfect and special Hermione made him feel.
“Yeah,” replied Ron to the two so-called adults’ query, oblivious to Harry’s non-verbal interchange with Remus and Tonks. “We were getting to know each other in a ‘/more than friends/’ way, if you know what I mean. But then Harry had to ruin the moment because he needed Hermione for something.”
“Oh,” Tonks said aloud, as if it all made sense to her now. Which of course, judging by the confused look she had on her face, it didn’t.
“Excuse me, everyone,” Charlie announce from the head table, inadvertently putting an end to Ron’s awkward conversation. “It is my privilege as Best Man to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley!” The guests all clapped and cheered as Bill and Fleur walked onto the dance floor. “Let’s watch the happy couple as they take their first dance as man and wife!”
Screeching music started to play, although Harry wasn’t able to determine
where it came from. The Bride and Groom began to waltz elegantly around the dance floor.
“I can’t wait to dance with Hermione,” Ron declared while scanning the crowd, trying to find the witch in question.
“Don’t you know you have to dance with Ginny first?” Remus asked, attempting to diffuse the increasingly tense situation.
“Dance with my sister?” Ron retorted scathingly. “We’re not Welsh!”
Remus sighed dejectedly before continuing: “The first dance is for the Bride and Groom. Everyone joins the new couple for the second dance. However, the members of the Bridal Party have to dance with their partners first.”
“But who’ll dance with Hermione while I-” Ron began to weakly argue his case to which Harry responded a bit too quickly and too energetically:
“I’LL DO IT!” he shouted.
“Thanks Harry, I knew I could count on you.” Ron said proudly as he, again, playfully thumped Harry on the shoulder. “Well, I guess I’d better go find Ginny,” Ron continued as he stood up. He turned to Harry and pointed at the shorter wizard and threatened him in a mocking way, “Now, don’t you go and try to steal my girl now!”
“Okay, I won’t…” Harry whimpered pathetically. Giving Harry the “thumbs up” signal, Ron turned and went to find his sister.
Harry looked at Remus and Tonks who both still looked like they were in shock. With a weak shrug towards Remus and Tonks, Harry left the table to find Hermione.
It didn’t take Harry long to find her. He found Hermione by the low wall with Arnold, the Pygmy Puff. She seemed to have her entire focus on Arnold and was still petting him; one could even describe her motions as “pathological petting.”
“Hey, you okay?” Harry cooed as he walked up to her.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Hermione began, still petting the useless tribble-like creature. “I had it all planned out: what to say to him and how I’d say it. But when I saw him, I completely froze up.”
“S’okay, I know how that feels,” said Harry. “Would you like for me to tell him?”
“No, I should be the one…” Hermione replied. “I’m just waiting for the proper time to do it. I don’t think it would be good to tell him here. Could you imagine the scene that he would cause?”
“Maybe we’ll tell him tomorrow, then” suggested Harry, to which Hermione replied with a nod. In the distance, Harry heard the song for the first dance end. “Would you care to dance?”
Hermione blushed slightly before responding: “I thought you’d never ask.”
The two quietly made their way to the dance floor. Slow pleasant music filled the air (though to Harry, it was still a little screechy like all wizarding music). Harry took Hermione in his arms and began to dance. They danced in slow circles around the floor, passing Remus and Tonks who were lost in each others eyes.
“They seem so happy together,” Hermione commented while they watched the older couple. “As if they were made for each other.”
“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “Who saw that coming? I don’t even recall them even sharing a conversation last year.”
After Harry and Hermione had slowly danced away from Tonks and Remus, Hermione said to Harry in a dulcet tone: “You do realize we’ll have to get them back for that prank, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” replied Harry in an equally sweet manner.
The next couple they saw dancing were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
“Oh, Hermione dear,” Mrs. Weasley said as they danced closer to Harry and Hermione. “Thank you so very much for that impassioned blessing you gave earlier.”
“Err… um… ” stammered Hermione, very embarrassed at the memory of her outburst earlier. “You’re welcome, Ma’am.”
The two teens glided across the floor, away from the Weasleys.
“Speaking of the ‘/blessing’/…” Hermione began. “How did you do that?”
“How’d I do what?” Harry asked as innocently as he could.
Hermione got up on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear; “Make me have a screaming orgasm just by touching my hand?”
“Oh, that,” Harry muttered. He was hesitant to tell Hermione about his ‘/special book/’ because he knew that Hermione would want to take the book from him so she could read it for herself (she was like that when it came to books). And he was still reading it. So Harry resolved to himself that he would keep the book a secret just a bit longer and came up with a feeble excuse. “I didn’t do anything, it must’ve been nerves.”
“‘Nerves’?” she asked disbelievingly. Hermione then added in an alluring way; “Well that’s too bad. I was sooo hoping it was something that you did, because then I could repay you in kind. But seeing how it was just ‘nerves’ on my part…”
“Repay me how?” Harry asked, losing a bit of his resolve due to Hermione’s tone.
“Why should I repay you if you did nothing?” she asked rhetorically. Hermione then did something very unexpected. While biting her lip, she pulled away from Harry slightly and tugged the front of her gown down a touch so the top of a very exciting looking black lacy bra, along with a nice expansive view of her cleavage, was revealed. Upon seeing the top edge of the aforementioned bra, let alone the sight of the wondrous flesh, Harry’s resolve of secrecy was completely forgotten. As a matter of fact, his resolve wasn’t the only thing he forgot; he also happened to forget his own name.
It was at this point that ‘/Harry, Jr./’ woke up and took over those pesky thought processes for Harry. The fifth appendage poked Hermione in the hip as if to inform her that her plan to get Harry to tell her his secret had worked.
“I found a boob… uh boo… book. I um mean I uh found a book in the um restricted section…” Harry rambled in a monotone as a little bit of drool threatened to escape his mouth.
Hermione pushed her bosom against Harry’s chest, causing her breasts to push up and almost (‘/Harry, Jr./’ seemed to pray) out of her gown. He so desperately wanted to pull the gown down the rest of the way and ravish her boobs with his mouth.
“Can I see this book later?” Hermione asked, knowing the answer. She knew the answer already because she playfully ground her hips into ‘/Harry, Jr./’, causing the organ to swell even more. This action assured the proper response.
But before Harry could groan out a primal and heartfelt “yes,” he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw two mops of flaming red hair.
“Mind if we cut in?” Ron asked. Before Harry could respond, Hermione was torn from his grasp and was quickly replaced with the girl who physically resembled his /mother/!
Harry looked to Hermione for a plan; she was after all the smartest witch in their generation. She could easily formulate a plan to get him out of the predicament of a slow dance with the girl who physically resembled his /mother/! Alas, Hermione had the same look of desperation in her eyes as well. Hermione quickly disappeared into the crowd with the lumbering red-headed lummox.
Ginny started out by going up on her toes to whisper in Harry’s ear “I hope you don’t mind, but I plan on using this dance to change your mind about us.” Right after she finished her statement, Ginny attempted the same tactic Hermione had tried just moments before. She shoved her chest into Harry’s in an attempt to show off her meager cleavage and shortly there after began to grind her boyish hips into his.
Normally, Harry would have been mortally embarrassed because Ginny would have noticed ‘/Harry, Jr./’. She would have noticed because the bugger was, just previously, fully awake and raring to play “/hide-and-seek/” with Hermione. Luckily for Harry though, when he saw the girl who looked like his /mum/ shove her boobs into his chest, ‘/Harry, Jr./’ instantly lost all interest. But to say that the organ simply “lost interest” was a bit of an understatement. It would be more to the point to say that ‘/Harry, Jr./’ lost so much interest that he grabbed his luggage and went on a little holiday to visit one of his relatives up north, the spleen.
“C’mon Harry,” Ginny implored in a throaty tone as rubbed her chest against his (one might argue that the word “breast” should have been used, but seeing that she hardly had any boobs, others would be more correct by arguing that “chest” is the proper word to describe it). Her hand slid down his back, inching her way to his bum. “You know I could make you a very, very happy man…”
“Um, Ginny…” squeaked Harry. “I really don’t think….” The young wizard broke out in a cold sweat and tried to force himself to tell the girl who looked like his /mother/ that he was no longer (thanks be to every possible deity) interested in her. He thought that he was doing a fairly decent job at it as well, seeing how he was succeeding in fighting the urge to run away. He was successful that is until Ginny licked her lips ravenously and squeezed his arse.
That’s when all of Harry’s remaining cool fled from him. With a manly shout of “GAH!”, Harry smacked the shiny haired girl’s hand away from his posterior and ran like a frightened child. Ginny was left standing dumbfounded in the middle of the dance floor as Harry pushed his way through the crowd. He desperately needed air, he felt like he was suffocating. As he reached the edge of the dance floor, a panting Harry noticed Ron walking up to him.
“You okay, mate?” Ron asked as he took his place besides Harry. “You look like you were attacked by a vicious, bloodthirsty beast.”
“Practically,” answered Harry, finding Ron’s analogy somewhat fitting.
“Well, it looks like we both have to sit the next dance out,” Ron continued while Harry tried to catch his breath. “Hermione’s mental, I tell you. We were just talking about stuff then she tells me that she wants to talk about us. And I thought that was a great idea and I told her what I’d like to do to her later…” Ron ended his eloquent statement by making the same rude “kneading dough” gesture from before. “Then she sees Arnold again and runs off talking about ‘troubles’.”
“Tribbles,” Harry corrected.
“I’d just like to start off where we left off the other day, is all.” Ron whined. “It was great, Harry,” Ron stated in an overzealous tone. “We were in my room when we started to snog…”
Harry remembered Hermione’s recollections of that day and realized that Ron was embellishing a bit.
“… she then moaned in my ear ‘/you’re so wonderful, Ron/’…”
It was this point that Harry realized that his friend wasn’t just embellishing a bit, he was utterly delusional! Harry desperately wanted to tell Ron about his and Hermione’s relationship so Ron wouldn’t embarrass himself further, but he knew that Hermione wanted to be the one who broke the news to him.
“I know I shouldn’t tell you this Harry, seeing how you’re single now and you’ll get jealous but,” Ron beamed with masculine pride. “… I felt her up! It was fantastic! It’s like I’m a man now!”
Harry wanted to yell at him: ‘/You felt her up? Big Deal! / /You didn’t even see her even a little naked, I saw her very naked! And as for fondling her, I felt her up very properly. Right before I ate her out!/’
“Mind you, I do prefer blondes,” Ron said as he stared dumbly at Fleur, who was standing behind Luna Lovegood as the two girls waited to pour themselves their drinks from the bar. “Maybe I could get Hermione to dye her hair?”
“I like her hair the way it is!” Harry protested. “It’s a part of who she is!’
“I thought you liked red-heads, like Ginny?” Ron questioned roughly, taken back at Harry’s impassioned tone. Harry shuddered at the memory of running his fingers through Ginny’s red hair, the same hair color as his /mother’s/!
Harry shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of those disturbing images and looked up and saw that Hermione had joined the line to get a drink.
“I knew you’d be jealous,” Ron stated.
“I’m not jealous…” Harry began to argue when he saw Ginny sneak up behind Hermione as she approached the bar for her own drink. The red haired witch pulled a small glass vial out of her robes and inconspicuously poured its contents into Hermione’s cup. Obviously, Hermione didn’t see Ginny or notice the younger witch pour the mysterious liquid into her cup, because Hermione filled the tampered cup up with pumpkin juice and started to raise it to her lips. Terror coursed through Harry at the thought of Hermione drinking whatever it was that Ginny had poured into her cup!
Harry reacted purely on instinct. He whipped out his wand and shouted in a clear and very loud voice, “/ACCIO HERMIONE’S CUP!”/
Now, something strange happened. Harry clearly stated that he wanted to Summon Hermione’s cup, but for some odd reason, his magic misunderstood him. Instead of Summoning Hermione’s drink cup like he had commanded, Harry’s magic Summoned Hermione’s /B-cups/.
With a sound of tearing fabric, Hermione’s lacey, black bra flew from her bosom and into Harry’s waiting hand. Harry gulped when he saw Hermione’s shocked and angry expression. He gulped because he saw her wondrous boobs as well- he thought idly that her boobs giggled quite nicely. Hermione quickly recovered and grabbed the fragments of her dress and covered her exposed flesh. Luckily, everyone’s attention had been on Harry because he had shouted, and no one saw Hermione’s embarrassment. Everyone that is except for Ron.
“Merlin,” Ron muttered out in a stunned tone, “I think I saw one of her nipples…”
A small part of Harry’s brain internally pondered on what Ron had said and asked, ‘Did he see ‘/Carmella’/ or ‘/Natasha’/?’
The one positive effect of this disastrous event was that Hermione had dropped her drink that had been spiked by Ginny. Of course the main effect of this disastrous event wasn’t positive and it could possibly lead to Harry’s death. Or even worse, never seeing Hermione naked again! This negative effect was Hermione’s rage, and it was directed at Harry. The raven-haired wizard gulped once more, this time in plain fear, under the icy gaze coming from his definitely more-than-a-friend friend.
Recovering his senses, Harry quickly pointed his wand at Ginny and shouted “/ACCIO GINNY’S VIAL!”/ The small glass container popped out of Ginny’s pocket and flew into Harry’s waiting hand, the same hand that was still holding Hermione’s enticing bra, mind you.
Harry stormed up to Ginny and shoved his left hand in her face while pointing his wand at her with his right. “What is this?” Harry demanded loudly.
“Err… Hermione’s bra…” Ginny offered innocently, as if she had done nothing wrong.
“No, not that,” Harry spat as he pulled the undergarment out of his hand and discreetly pocketed it (he reckoned that if the “Accio” incident was going to ruin his chances with Hermione, at least he would have a souvenir). He then shoved the glass vial in the red head’s face and demanded: “What is this?”
“N- Nothing,” Ginny defended, “it’s just water.”
A large group of people, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Slughorn, had gathered around to see what the commotion was all about.
“Pardon, if I may?” Horace Slughorn offered as he walked up to Harry. The younger, skinnier wizard handed the vial to the older, obese wizard. Slughorn held the vial up to his nose and inhaled deeply. A surprised look appeared on his face. “Oho, this is a Lust Potion… what are you planning on doing my dear?” he asked, turning to Ginny.
“A Lust Potion?” Hermione asked, “Harry, what was she doing?”
“She poured this into your drink,” explained Harry and all the color from Hermione’s face drained away.
“It was… It was only a joke,” stated Ginny.
“My dear, a Lust Potion isn’t something to trifle with,” Slughorn said gravely. “It causes the person who drinks it to lose all of their inhibitions when it comes to physical passions. It’s very similar to Love Potions if only much milder in its duration…”
Harry suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Hermione a few days ago; she had said that she had acted strangely the previous school year, that she “felt compelled” to start dating. Then a question hit Harry, was the reason Hermione had “felt compelled” to date Ron and her strange behavior during the last year all because Ginny had poisoned her?
“How many times have you poisoned her?” Harry demanded.
“Just this once,” Ginny stated in a very convincing way. “I told you it was just a joke!”
“That’s a very sick idea of a joke, young lady,” Molly chastised her as Hermione looked like she was about to break down and start sobbing. At first, Harry believed Ginny’s statement that she had only done it once and was about to drop his line of questioning when another realization dawned upon him. He remembered two years ago, when he had arrived at Grimmauld Place and saw first-hand how Ginny could lie in a very convincing manner. He recalled that he thought at the time that she would make a good actress because of her ability to lie. ‘She was a good liar!’
Harry suddenly realized that he couldn’t trust Ginny’s word, not when it came to Hermione’s well being. He had to see if Ginny had been poisoning Hermione; he had to do it for Hermione’s sake.
Harry knew that he would have to force the truth out of Ginny somehow and he only knew of two ways of doing that. The first was to use Veritaserum, but that potion was regulated by the Ministry and he doubted that he could get his hands on it. The other way was fairly dangerous, and he had not been trained in it at all; he had only been trained how to defend himself from it. But he had to see if Ginny was lying, he had to do it for Hermione.
Once more, Harry leveled his wand at Ginny and declared, “/Legilimens//!”/
A migraine inducing swarm of images and emotions flooded Harry’s brain. Image after image flew past him, like he was watching some horribly edited film. Harry forced himself to concentrate on Ginny’s thoughts and images relating to Hermione and potions. The first dozen images that rushed by Harry dealt with Hermione tutoring Ginny with her Potion Essays. But then, he saw an image of Hermione in Muggle clothes at the Burrow and saw Ginny indiscreetly pour contents of a glass vial into Hermione’s tea cup. The last image Harry saw before breaking the connection was a repeat performance from just moments before, when both Ginny and Hermione were standing in line, waiting for a drink.
Harry lowered his wand and fell to his knees; his brain felt like it was threatening to pop out of his skull in the most horrific and gruesome way possible. Ginny, by the looks of it, was suffering from a similar headache.
The group that had gathered around was staring at Harry and Ginny in stunned silence.
“When did you give her that first dosage?” Harry asked. A scowl appeared on Ginny’s face at Harry’s question. Harry asked again: “You gave her the Lust Potion sometime ago. When was it?”
“A few days ago, when you Owled her for help,” Ginny replied through gritted teeth.
Harry heard Hermione gasp aloud. He turned to face her and saw that she had tears streaming down her face. “Hermione….” began Harry. Hermione looked at Harry with absolute terror in her eyes. Before Harry could do anything, Hermione dashed toward the Burrow. Tonks and Remus quickly gave chase.
“Hermione, wait!” Harry implored and began to follow her when a small hand grabbed him by his arm.
“Don’t you want to know why I did it?” Ginny asked, her face twisted with anger. “I did it so my lummox of a brother and that Know-it-all would finally hook up. Merlin knows he needs all the help he can get. But I did it because I needed to get Hermione out of the way, so we could be together. She’s the only girl you’ve ever talk to,” Ginny continued.
“Have you ever asked yourself why that is?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, it tells me that you need to talk to more girls,” retorted Ginny.
“No, it should tell you that I’m in love with her!” exclaimed Harry and a collective gasp emanated from the crowd. Along with the gasps, several dozen flashes went off as the photographers who had accompanied the reporters to the wedding took pictures. Many of the reporters were muttering about the scoop of the year while scribbling notes down on bits of parchment. A moment later, a number of these reporters apparated away, obviously to write up articles on The Chosen One’s love life. A wave of anxiety washed over Harry as he realized that his outburst would more likely than not end up as front page news.
“You’re in what with /who/?” Ron sputtered.
Harry paused before answering, as he did a bit of soul searching. For the past few days, while he and Hermione spent more time together than ever before (and some of that was ‘naked time’), he hadn’t really bothered to try and define his feelings for her. Even though the outburst was unintentional; it felt natural; it was something Harry had wanted to say for a long time. It felt right saying it, and it made Harry happy, the happiest he had been in a long time.
“I said that I’m in love with Hermione,” repeated Harry.
“But you can’t be in love with Hermione,” argued Ron. “You love Ginny”
“No, I don’t,” Harry responded.
“Of course you do. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Ron, look at her,” Harry stated while pointing at Ginny. “She looks like my /mother/!”
“So, what does that…?” Ron began to debate but then stopped and looked at his sister. Slowly, his eyes started to bulge as the realization that his best mate appeared to have had an Oedipus Complex sunk in Ron’s mind. “Eww, that’s just wrong…”
“Tell me about it,” agreed Harry as he unsuccessfully tried to repress a shudder.
“Hey, I’m standing right here!” Ginny shouted.
“But that doesn’t matter,” Ron continued, obviously getting over his shock of finally noticing that Harry and Ginny’s relationship was sick and twistedly wrong. “Hermione’s still my girl!”
“How can that be Ron?” asked Harry. “You find her boring and a nag. She finds you lazy and pig-headed. She loves to learn and read; the last thing you read that wasn’t assigned to read for a class was a Quidditch Playbook. Even then you didn’t really read it, you merely looked at the pictures. The only thing you two have in common is your constant bickering!”
“But isn’t squabbling a sign of a good relationship?” Ron asked.
“Yes,” replied Harry, dripping in scorn. “In poorly written Muggle comedic films… not in real life! In real life, at best it’s a sign of an impending break-up. At worst, it’s nothing more than emotional abuse. Because of the arguments you both have, it’s obvious you two don’t respect each other. Damn it, respect is the best foundation for a good relationship, not fighting! Hermione and I respect each other. We also have more in common than you ever did with her.”
“But that isn’t fair,” Ron continued. “You get everything, Harry! Fame, fortune, and now you want the girl, too?”
“Wait a tic,” interrupted Harry, his anger growing. “Do I have to point out to you that the only reason I have ‘/fame and fortune’/ is because a very mean man murdered my family simply because he was trying to kill me?”
“Oh, well, yeah, but…” Ron answered dumbly. “You’ve got me there…”
“And do I also have to point out that because of that ‘/killing my family’/ thing I grew up in an abusive household? And because of that ‘/mean man trying to kill me/’ thing, I’ve been pursued and attacked by every bad guy in the British Isles?”
“But that doesn’t mean you can get the girl…”
“Yes, it does!” Harry yelled. “After all the pain and crap I’ve gone through, I deserve a little happiness! Besides, I’m the hero… that entitles me to the girl!”
“What does that make me then?” Ron spat. “The side kick?”
“Um…” Harry hesitated before answering, “…well, yeah, kind of.”
Ron bellowed out a curse and he stormed off toward the row of trees behind the Burrow.
“If you’re the ‘hero’ and Ron’s the ‘side kick’,” Ginny seethed, her anger flowing off of her skin. “What does that make me?”
“I don’t know, Ginny,” stated Harry. “Right now, based on your actions, I’d have to say you’re nothing more than a crazed stalker!”
Ginny huffed angrily and promptly followed Ron to the trees.
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley calmly said trying to diffuse the sticky situation. “I think it’s best if you leave for now. Just let them calm down for a while.”
Harry knew he was right; this was not the time to try to mend his friendship with Ron. Hopefully, he would be able to do it later.
Dejectedly, Harry headed to the Burrow where he found Tonks and Lupin waiting for him.
“Do you know where Hermione went?” asked Harry.
“She was a bit… distraught when she came in here,” Tonks stated.
“So we made her a Portkey to take her back to the Gryffindor Common Room,” Remus concluded.
Harry paused lost in his thoughts. He was torn between either running to Hermione to see if she was okay or leaving her alone for a bit so that she could think this through. He really didn’t know what to do; he had never been in a situation like this before. He knew Hermione was hurting, but he didn’t know if or how he could help her. He then thought of Remus, surely he had been through something like this. Maybe he could give Harry some advice on what to do. Harry turned to Remus, but before he could ask the older wizard for advice, Remus spoke up.
“And we happened to make a similar Portkey for you as well,” Remus said while pointing to an old shoe lying on the table next to Harry.
“Thank you,” Harry said and shook Remus’ hand.
“Good luck, Harry,” said Tonks.
Harry touched the Portkey and a second later, he crashed onto the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room. Brushing himself off as he stood up, Harry looked around the room in a fruitless attempt to find Hermione.
“Hermione!” he called out but no one answered. He then tried again, “HERMIONE!”
After a moment or two, Harry finally heard a muffled response coming from the girls’ dormitory. “Go away, Harry. I want to be left alone.”
Somehow, Harry knew that even though she had said she had wanted to be alone, she wanted desperately to be held by him. But he couldn’t go up the stairs leading to her room because of that pesky “No boys allowed” rule that the founders placed on the stairs. He knew from experience that the moment he placed a foot on the stairs, they would magically change into a slide and an alarm would sound, making it impossible for him to climb them. So the only way Harry could get up to Hermione is if he flew.
Luckily, it only took Harry a mere three minutes to remember that he had his broom up in his room (this realization came after he had tried to unsuccessfully Transfigure himself into a bird twice). He rushed to his room and pulled his Firebolt out of his trunk. After hopping on the broom, Harry rocketed out of his room, down the stairs, through the Common Room, and over the stairs leading to the girls’ rooms. Of course he didn’t know which room was Hermione’s because he had never been there before. So Harry listened for the muffled cries of Hermione. He heard her sobs coming from the third door on the right. Harry softly knocked on the door before entering.
He found her curled up on her bed. Hermione slowly looked up and into Harry’s face. Tears had stained her cheeks, but she had a determined look in her eyes.
“H-Harry, I don’t think we should be together any more…” Hermione forced herself to say.
“What? Why?” Harry stammered, shocked at Hermione’s revelation.
“Because I’m afraid what we… have, it isn’t real,” explained Hermione. “Ginny spiked my tea before I came to visit you the other day and I practically molested you because of it.”
“So what?” Harry retorted.
“So, the Lust Potion obviously affected me and my actions…”
“How long would the effects last?” asked Harry.
“It depends,” answered Hermione, falling back into her safe routine of being the one with the answers. “Usually only a few hours…”
“So you were under the influence of the Potion when you…” Harry began and paused slightly at the memory of Hermione giving ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ a hand shake. “When you jumped me?”
“Yes,” replied Hermione.
“What about later that night when we were in the library?”
“Probably not, but there is still a chance I was still under its effects.”
“Even if you were, what about later? Were you still affected by the potion when you gave me my… err… birthday present? That was two days after you got the potion.”
“That isn’t the point, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Why not?”
“Because, I wouldn’t have done that thing the first time without being under the effects of the potion,” she said and looked guiltily at her hand. “And even though the Lust Potion was out of my system after that, I don’t think I would’ve done those… things with you if I hadn’t… molested you first.”
“So what you’re saying is that Ginny unintentionally got us together.” Harry surmised.
“Yes… what… no?” responded Hermione, obviously confused with Harry’s train of thought.
“Listen,” Harry began and he walked over to where Hermione was still laying. “Ginny gave you that potion so you’d relax your inhibitions and get together with Ron. But before the effects of the dosing kicked in, I had Owled you for help. You came over to help me, so the effects of the potion kicked in when you and I were talking.”
“Yes, that’s my point!” Hermione announced.
“Let me ask you a question,” Harry continued. “If I hadn’t Owled you and you ended up doing… things with Ron, would you have continued to be intimate with him after the potion wore off?”
“It’s impossible to say now,” answered Hermione. “I can’t tell you what I would’ve done if the situation was different.”
“Yes, you can,” Harry interrupted. “Do you honestly believe that you would’ve stayed with Ron, bearing in mind that you two argue constantly and have absolutely nothing in common?
“No, probably not,” Hermione replied honestly.
“And yet you’ve stayed with me,” Harry continued. “Why is that?”
Hermione hesitated as she looked deep into Harry’s eyes, obviously afraid to answer.
“Let me tell you why,” Harry stated. “It’s because you and I have something special, something that goes beyond lust. Remember, according to Slughorn, the potion only lowered your inhibitions. It would not have made you do anything that you weren’t already wanting, at least subconsciously. If you had felt nothing for me, there’s no way Ginny’s Lust Potion would have created these feelings. The end result is just that you acted on your impulses rather than trying to make up reasons why you shouldn’t have done anything. And I thank God that you did make the move; I have to tell you I was too afraid of scaring you away. I wouldn’t be the same person if you weren’t there for me. And I don’t think I ever want to try not having you with me.”
Taking her hands in his, Harry gently guided Hermione off the bed so that she was standing in front of her. Harry let go of her hands and softly cupped her face in his hands.
“I can honestly say Hermione…” Harry began and leaned in close to her so that his mouth hovered over her delicate lips. “that I am deeply and sincerely in love with you.”
Harry let Hermione gasp in surprise before sealing his lips over hers. He poured all of his love, all of his being, into the kiss. He had hoped it was the type of kiss that would make Hermione’s toes curl. Apparently, Harry’s tactic had worked because Hermione moaned into his mouth and she threw her arms around his neck. His hands slid from her face, his left arm wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him. He ran his right hand through her hair so that he could cradle her head.
After what seemed like hours, the two pulled away from each others’ mouths and rested their foreheads against one another.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “How could I have doubted what we have?”
“Just don’t let it happen again, love.” Harry said, attempting at injecting a touch of humor.
“I love you too Harry,” breathed Hermione. “And I love your hands on my /bottom/,” Hermione giggled. She said the word “/bottom/” like it was a dirty naughty thing that deserved to be spanked. Harry thought it was a request for him to squeeze her bum, but before he could comply, he was stopped when Hermione literarily purred and said, “Do it again, Harry.”
‘Again?’ This puzzled the young wizard, since his hands were nowhere near her bum. In fact, his left arm was still wrapped around her body and his right was somewhat tangled in her bushy hair. Harry look down at Hermione’s backside (something that he discovered that he liked to do) and saw that an old, wrinkly, and somewhat transparent hand was firmly attached to his girlfriend’s bum Harry’s eyes slowly followed up the transparent arm and into the smiling face of Godric Gryffindor.
“What Cheer, Harry?” the ghost greeted Harry and promptly gave another squeeze to Hermione’s pert bottom. “Thought you needed a /hand/.”
To be continued!

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Thirty: Threats, Boobies, and Fake Names
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 Thirty: Draco makes his move!!!
“You had sex in front of Courtney?” Luna asked for the third time in as many minutes.
“Yes. I don’t see what is so difficult to understand,” Hermione answered.
The two witches were sitting on the couch, while Ron and Harry played a game of chess. The four were enjoying the solitude afforded to them in the Head Students’ chamber. The topic of conversation had dealt with the fact that Harry and Hermione proudly admitted that they performed a public sex act. More shockingly, the couple had sex, knowing that they had an audience, albeit of one.
“You two have grown so kinky that you’re now having a live show, that’s what’s so hard to understand,” explained Ron after he moved a pawn.
“No, what’s so hard to believe about the situation is that we weren’t invited,” Luna stated. “I had assumed that when you finally did have someone watch, it’d be us; your best friends.”
“Um, honey, count me out of that,” Ron requested, while Harry fretted over his next move on the board. “Harry and Hermione are like siblings to me; watching them shag would be just creepy.”
“But you’ve already seen us. Remember, through that Pensieve we made you,” Harry pointed out. He hesitantly moved his knight, knowing that he’d more likely than not lose the piece with Ron’s next move.
“Yeah, but that was different, wasn’t it,” Ron said. “For one thing, it wasn’t live, you know? Seeing it in real life, where I would smell you guys, it would be too weird for me. And second, you were teaching me something. So I was able to force myself to overcome my queasiness of watching you go down on Hermione; I was focusing on the knowledge that I could learn what you two were showing me.”
“Ronald, dear, what are you talking about /’queasiness’/?” Luna asked with a pleasant smile. “You masturbated as we watched the Pensieve.”
“Just that once,”he tried to defend himself.
“Actually the first ten times we watched,” corrected Luna.
“Fine, alright, I lied,” Ron confessed in a huff. “Wanking to a Pensieve memory is a lot different from the real thing. If I watched the live act, I’d end up wanting to wank. And that thought scares me because I’d be masturbating to my best mates, one of whom is a bloke, while they could see me. Wanking my willy in the same room as Harry getting laid is a little too close to being gay for me, okay?”
“That is quite all right, Ronald, you can stay while I’ll go and watch when Harry and Hermione invite us,” Luna said dreamily.
“Um, you do realize that it was a kind of spur of the moment thing, right?” Harry said as he watched Ron’s white bishop sodomize one of his remaining few black pawns. The bishop had taken off his mitre and was waving it above his head like a cowboy at a rodeo as the piece buggered the helpless pawn. “Where the hell did you get this chess set?”
“Of course I understand,” Luna said happily. “I’m just saying that if that spur of the moment thing ever strikes you again that you ask me to watch.”
“You already have watched us. When I had you take polyjuice to look like me on the train when term began, you watched me perform oral sex on Harry,” Hermione pointed out. She turned to Ron and reprimanded, “And you had no problem shagging Luna when she looked like me. ‘Think of me as a sibling,’ my backside.”
Ron pretended to have not heard Hermione as he concentrated on his bishop spanking Harry’s violated pawn.
“That was just oral sex, Hermione. I want the whole deal,” Luna said with a hint of excitement. “I don’t want to pressure you two or anything, but I do want to put it in your heads that I’m next in line for the entertainment.”
“Um, sure,” Harry finally said. “You’ll be the first one we contact.”
“And, as an added incentive, I’ll allow both of you to watch Ronald and I make love as well,”Luna added.
“We will?” Ron asked nervously.
“Yes,” the blonde said evenly.
“What, now?” Ron asked.
“No, Ronald, you’re playing your game,” Luna said with a shake of her head as if she was disappointed that her husband couldn’t understand such a basic concept. “It wouldn’t do to have sex in the middle of a match. Perhaps we can do it once the game is over.”
“That’s not necessary,” Harry said.
“Are you certain? I can use the chess pieces as helpers,” Luna offered.
“How would you use the pieces?” asked Harry… and he instantly regretted it.
“It’s a wonderful game I invented,” she said with a bright smile. “It’s called ‘The Spelunking King.’ Ronald and I were just playing it with the black king before you two started playing your match.”
Harry had been eyeing his king (which happened to be the black piece that Luna had referred to) and was about to move it, but now had second thoughts about even touching it. He wondered whose cave the king had gone spelunking in (much less what /cave/)and whether or not it was cleaned afterwards.
“It’s alright, Luna, we’ll just take a rain check,” Hermione said.
“What does that mean?” the blonde asked.
“It means that we’ll take you up on your offer at some later date,” explained Hermione. It was clear to Harry that Hermione had no intention of fulfilling that obligation.
It didn’t take long for Ron to trounce Harry. But how the red head had won was what surprised Harry. Apparently, Ron’s pieces had thrown the rules away and had all participated in a gang-bang on Harry’s queen.
“Just where the hell did you get this chess set?”
“Bukkake!” Ron’s two knight pieces shouted as their battle cry.
SoG
The next morning, Harry sent a post to Alicia telling her in great detail that the toy she was interested in had worked wonders (a brief exert of the note described the “wonderful sounds Hermione made every time I tugged a ball out of her bum told me she really, RE/ALLY// liked it”/). After Harry sent Hedwig off to deliver the post, he joined his friends in the Great Hall. Hermione had already finished her meal and was busy reading the Daily Prophet. The front page of the paper was dedicated to a new pamphlet that the Ministry had begun to circulate. This pamphlet would only end up accentuating the wizarding population’s current irrational fear.
“Ministry Advises the Public to Stay Indoors!” the paper read.
“After multiple reports of random attacks committed by roving gangs of giants, werewolves, and Death Eaters, the Ministry released a pamphlet instructing witches and wizards not to go anywhere after sundown. The only time the Ministry suggests someone should leave the safety of their homes is in the case of an emergency.
This official document also urges people to barricade their homes with various wards. Many of the wards that are suggested are considered high level wards, such as Ill-Will Repeller and Bind My Foes. As these wards are highly difficult to erect, far above the ability of the average wizard and witch, most of these wards will need a Certified Wards Master to make them.
Some of the defensive spells the Ministry highlighted include the Stun Hex and the Impediment Curse. The Ministry suggests that if someone were to be attacked that they should use these two spells in order to buy enough time to escape.
‘How the (expletive deleted) am I supposed to use a/(expletive deleted) /Stun Hex on a giant? A Stunner just bounces off a/(expletive deleted) giant,” Wilhelmina Murray, aged one-hundred and two, commented demurely after she read the pamphlet. “And even if I’m attacked by(expletive deleted) /Death Eaters with no (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted) giants, a Stunning Spell won’t do /(expletive deleted). The moment I’d knock one of those (expletive deleted) /down, one of the other/(expletive deleted) /would Rennervate them and I’d b (expletive deleted) out of luck.”
Another wizard, Hans Von der Kidd, stated that he’d most likely leave the country. “I can’t make wards like these; they’re too difficult,” Mr. Von der Kidd said. “And I know that I don’t stand a chance dueling with a Death Eater, much less a giant or werewolf. It’d be for the best if I just leave this place. I’m about to decide to let You Know Who have /England//.”/
“This is horrible,” Hermione groaned so that only Harry could hear and tossed the paper on the table. “I thought that performing the Morgy Ritual would help. Even though we took out over a hundred Death Eaters, it doesn’t matter. The war has gotten so bad that everyone’s now afraid of their own shadow.”
With a sad look, Hermione surveyed the Great Hall. The Hall was packed full of happy students, all of them laughing and smiling.
“Why isn’t everyone else like we are here,” she said loud enough that their friends heard.. “None of us are pulling our hair out. None of us are frightened that we might get attacked and killed.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re in Hogwarts,” offered Ginny, as she ate her breakfast. “It’s got a bunch of really strong wards around it. And we’ve also got Aurors patrolling the castle and grounds. So it’s pretty much safe from attack.”
“But we were attacked last year,” Neville pointed out, “even with the wards and Order of the Phoenix members patrolling the grounds.”
“Then why is everyone here acting so carefree?” Luna asked.
Harry bit his tongue. He had a theory, the one that the pervert, Gryffindor, had pointed out. The young wizard wasn’t about to blurt this theory out. So over the course of the day, Harry pondered how he could approach Hermione about this once-outlandish idea.
“I think I know why everyone here isn’t affected by the war,” Harry began when he and Hermione were alone in their chambers later that night. “It’s because of us.”
“How do you mean?”asked Hermione.
“Well, I think the students, and some of the teachers, aren’t overly worried about Voldemort because we, well we’ve given them something to do other than fret,” he explained vaguely.
“And just how did you and I do this?”
“Well, to be honest, it was more like Dobby did it.”
Hermione looked at Harry in deep thought for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes and challenged,”Are you saying that because everyone here saw us have sex that they don’t worry about the war?”
“Basically, yeah,”he agreed. “Listen, I know it sounds far fetched, but I’m in the middle of this war, and it’s no secret Voldemort wants me dead. You’re in the limelight too, not only because you associate with me but because you’re a Muggle-born witch, making you a target twice over. So by all rights, out of everyone in this castle, you and I should be the ones most affected by the war. But we don’t let it get to us, not to the extent of the people outside the castle. We’re living our lives the way we want to and not in fear. And by seeing all those Pensieves, our peers were encouraged to do the same. I know it’s not a conventional way of boosting morale, but it worked.”
“Harry, I don’t consider an active sex-life the cornerstone of living our lives without fear,”argued Hermione.
“But it is. Most people out there are terrified. So much so that they aren’t even sleeping properly; they sleep with one eye open. And the last thing on their minds is sex. You know for a fact that sex is a great stress reliever.”
“And how do you know people aren’t having sex?”
“I talked with Alicia. She’s working at Franklin’s of Cardiff, and she told me that no one’s been shopping there in weeks,” he told her.
“Franklin’s of Cardiff? Is that where you got those toys?” she asked and he nodded in the affirmative. “I’ll have to go there one day.”
“The back section’s where they keep the toys,” Harry pointed out.
“Let’s say that I agree with your assumptions that people aren’t having sex and that lack of activity is a part of the problem,” Hermione speculated. “Are you suggesting that we have Dobby start passing out the Pensieves again, only this time to everyone in England?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “You see, Ginny was right to a point. This castle has wards. They do have a way of making the people inside feel secure, even though a small group of Death Eaters attacked last year by bypassing those wards. However, most homes don’t even have the simplest wards.”
“What does that have to do with us having sex?”
“Well, we could create new rituals, ones that could erect wards around people’s homes,” Harry said.
“Yes, I can see that. I’ve actually had a few ideas in that area,” Hermione said while chewing her lip. “But how do you suppose we teach these potential rituals to everyone? I mean, having Dobby pass out Pensieves to everyone in the country is a little impractical.”
Harry spoke very slowly and clearly so that he could drive this point home… that and he reckoned that it would turn her on so he didn’t want her to misunderstand him.
“You… and I… will… write… a… book.”
“A bo-b-book? Me, an author?” she asked hesitantly. Suddenly Hermione’s irises shot open, leaving only a hair-thin ring of color, her lips puffed up a touch, and her complexion flushed. Harry could see her nipples harden through her blouse, and he felt it was safe to assume that she was getting rather wet. Harry’s assumption about the dampness of his girlfriend was confirmed when she ordered throatily: “Shag me silly, Harry.”
As Harry was in the process of carrying out her request of shagging her silly and while he was tugging on her hair, Hermione brought up a good point.
“Wait, why don’t –/uh /- -we just – -/smack my bum /- -copies of the tantric book we –/that’s it /- -already have?”
“/Uh/ – -we –/oh/ – -can use some of the – -/er/ – -spells from that book,” Harry said and paused to give Hermione a good hard swat. “But – -/oh/- – it doesn’t – -/uh/ – -have a lot of ward rituals.”
“So you’re saying- -/ooh, yessss rub my clit/ – -we need to make an – -/mama/ –updated version of The Magic of Making – -/FUCK ME! /- -Love?”
“/I’m gonna cum /–Yeah, a new version,” Harry answered. “One that will – -/almost there /–help people deal with Voldemort.”
“Hold on, I’m close – -I think we should – -/just a bit more, baby – -follow the author of the ‘special book’ and – -/oooh so- -o- -o- -o close /- -use pen-names – -/NOW! DO IT NOW!”
SoG
The next day during Potions, Hermione and Harry were quietly discussing what spells and rituals they should put in their forthcoming book from the ones that they had already invented.
“We should definitely include the Wit-Enhancing ritual,” offered Hermione as she put a dash of powdered frog toes into the bubbling concoction they were brewing. “Of course, that would mean we’d have to put in a section on stretching techniques so that the reader would be limber enough to perform that ritual.”
“One spell that we shouldn’t put in is the ‘Loninquitas Amorus,’ the long distance love ritual that I created,” Harry said. “I could see some bad people doing bad things with that one.”
“You mean like if Snape had that ritual in school, he would’ve used it on your Mum?” speculated Hermione.
“Why’d you go and say that?” demanded Harry as he felt his stomach lurch. “You could’ve left it at ‘bad people doing bad things.’ But no, you had to bring up that greasy bastard’s obsession with wanking over the thought of my mother.”
“I’m sorry, Harry,” apologized the brunette. “I’ll make it up to you after supper tonight.”
“Well, it better be good,” he pouted. “You mentioned my mother and Snape in the same sentence. And you made it about sex, making it even worse.”
“All right, I let you bugger me and you can cum on my tits,” she said casually, stirring the contents of their cauldron. “Would that be good enough?”
“Throw in a hummer before hand and we’re even.”
“Well, that goes without saying, doesn’t it,” she said. “Of course, I’ll expect the same in return. Perhaps we can pleasure each other at the same time.”
Hermione checked the board once more, reviewing the instructions. “Hand me that mandrake root,”she asked Harry.
The wizard reached out and took hold of the root. The moment his fingers wrapped around the mandrake, it began to heat up and shake. Knowing that mandrake roots should not do that, Harry dropped the item. It fell back on the table and continued to shake.
“Why’s it doing that?” Harry asked Hermione.
“It didn’t do that when I fetched it from the supply cupboard,” she answered. “Someone must have tampered with so it would activate with your touch.”
A second later, the root stood up on one end and began to reshape it self. It stretched and shrunk, changed from a dirty beige color to a warm pink. Veins started to pop up all along the surface. After a moment, it flopped down and stilled. Harry and Hermione were looking down at a very detailed pink dildo, foreskin, veins, wrinkles, and all.
“Who the hell would want to change a mandrake root into a penis?” asked Hermione. “Oh My God, it’s throbbing.”
“You-hoo!” Draco Malfoy called out effeminately from across the lab. He gave Harry a limp wristed wave and shouted, “If you like that, you can get the real thing later!”
Harry looked at Draco then he looked at the phallic object for a moment before it hit him – -no, not the dildo, the truth.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned out.
“What’s wrong?”asked Hermione.
“Draco transfigured the root into a copy of his willy,” Harry explained as he turned a nasty shade of green.
With a disgusted expression marring her face, Hermione pulled out her wand, unwilling to touch Draco’s organ, even by proxy, and in a series of light jabbing motions, pushed the phallic object off of the table. It landed on the floor and made a fleshy slapping sound.
That sound was enough to send our hero over the edge. With a gut-wrenching gurgling sound, Harry promptly vomited into his and Hermione’s cauldron.
While Hermione helped clean up the mess on the table and on Harry, Draco said in a loud voice;”Oh, look, he’s so excited that he got sick…”
SoG
Over the next two weeks, Harry and Hermione busied themselves with designing and practicing new content for their proposed book. They had come up with several new rituals, mostly for home defense, a number of potions, and some tactics just for fun. The couple used the magically upgraded Shrieking Shack as their testing grounds.
Not all of the rituals were strictly for defense. A few of the simpler sex-rituals were designed for household charms. One in particular was created to keep the participants’ home neat and orderly. It would magically dust, sweep, and mop along with straightening chairs, leveling photos, and the like. This particular ritual needed some milk and honey dribbled over both parties’ torsos and they needed to have sex on the home’s kitchen table.
But Harry and Hermione came up with several rituals that would effectively erect protective wards around the house. One ritual that Hermione had created was a powerful Anti-Apparation Ward. As opposed to other Anti-Apparation Wards, this one was relatively simple to erect. For the ritual, the wizard had to suckle on the largest toe on the witch’s left foot, whilst she sucked on his thumb from his right hand for fifteen minutes. Then the wizard had to ejaculate on each of the four corners of the building (this part of the ritual obviously would take some time to complete, allowing the wizard to recuperate between corners).
One Ward that Harry created was a nasty Anti-Harm Deterrent Ward. Basically, this ritual set up a ward around a house designed to detect the intentions of anyone who approached the house. If the person’s intentions were good, the ward would let them pass. But if the person wanted to physically harm someone, then the ward would cause that person to empty their bowels violently. If the person was left in the effects of the ward long enough, he’d collapse from dehydration. This ritual involved anal sex and the wizard had to pinch his own left nipple while simultaneously pinching the witch’s nose shut.
Another ward, dubbed the Evil Freezer, caused anyone who tried to cast an Unforgivable Curse to freeze in mid-incantation. The ritual was one of the longer ones to perform. First, Harry had to take Hermione from behind as she hung halfway out a window that faced the East as the sun rose, then he had to work on her bare bottom in a specific series of swats, pinches, and squeezes. Then he had to take her again, this time as she hung out a window on the West side during sunset.
However, not everything the couple came up with worked. Take for instance a potion Hermione had tried to create. Her plan was to have the potion halt the wizard’s climax, thereby extending the man’s performance by a significant period of time. Unfortunately when Harry tested this potion on himself, he proved that it didn’t work. In fact it was a very messy disaster. The potion didn’t extend his performance; it did however have the nasty side-effect of increasing the amount and force of his discharge a thousand fold.
“Blimey, it’s getting all over the place,” Harry commented. The potion had turned him into a lawn-sprinkler. Not the type of sprinkler that rains down evenly in a circular pattern, mind you. He was the type of sprinkler that spat and squirted in uneven, long arcs of fluid with a noisy discharge. Added to this analogy, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was making a very loud noise similar to a sprinkler. “SHPLISH – – SPLISH- – SLPISH-SQUIRT-SQUIRT-SQUIRT”
“Harry! STOP!” Hermione demanded and spat, as she tried to back away from the human sprinkler.
“I can’t!” he grunted and launched another rapid series of squirts that arced across the room, hitting the walls, floor, and ceiling… along with his girlfriend. Apart of Harry, the dirty part, actually liked the latter target and so, unwillingly (or so he’d later claim) he aimed for the witch.
“AHK! PHHT!”Hermione spat and sputtered again. “Don’t get it in my eyes! Oh No! Not in my hair!”
And there were a few ideas that had nothing to do with magic. Such as Hermione’s own Massaging Oil which wasn’t too greasy, and heated upon contact (it could also be used as a lubricant, wink-wink). This new oil also turned out to be a healthy substitute for butter in baking (Harry wrote a note to mention in the book not to use it as a butter substitute after it was used for one or both of its other uses). And then Harry had several ideas on massages; he found he was a natural at foot rubs. Of course foot rubs led to the calves being massaged, which led to the thighs getting a good rub-down, and logically, this led directly to finger-banging.
SoG
One night after supper, Harry and Hermione were making their way back to their chambers down a deserted hallway.
“I came up with anew ward,” the brunette announced. “This ward will theoretically create an infallible door locking charm, as well as strengthening the windows and doors of a house during an attack. So if an attacker bypasses or breaks through the other wards, this ward would prevent him from entering the house. An /Alohomora/wouldn’t work and the attacker’s blasting hexes would be ineffectual. It would be the ideal ward to allow the inhabitants to escape through the floo, or even simply give them enough time for help to arrive.”
“That’s neat,”Harry said. And then asked what he felt was the most important part: the casting of this ward; “How’s it done?”
“Well, we’ll have to test it out,” she said. It was obvious by her eyes that she was more than willing to test the ward out dozens of times. Even after the ward was proven, it was clear that Hermione would still be willing to “test” it several more times. “But you, the wizard, would have to take me, the witch, from behind while I have my naked tits pressed against the door, or window – which ever item we’re trying to strengthen. Then, after you cum in me, you’d have to rub your bits on the same door or window, thereby spreading our combined juices on it. The ritual would have to be performed for every window and door.”
“Gee, the Shrieking Shack has a lot of doors and windows,” Harry said knowingly.
“Yes, that would mean that we would have to perform this ritual a number of times then, won’t we?” Hermione said with a smile. “Are you up for shagging me against each and every door and window in the Shack?” she asked coyly.
“Oh, at least two times for each one. In fact, I think I should take you into this classroom,”he said and led her to one of the castle’s numerous abandoned rooms, “and give the ward a try right now.”
The moment the door creaked open, a shout of/ “Accio Wands!” /came from the darkness behind them. Before either could register what was happening, Harry and Hermione’s wands were magically pulled from their pockets, soaring to where the voice had come from.
Harry spun in time to see someone in the shadows flick their wand in his direction. An invisible wall forcibly pushed Harry and his girlfriend into the empty classroom. The couple tumbled across the floor and crashed into the far wall. As Harry started to get up, he heard Hermione yelp in surprise. The black haired wizard looked up to see his girlfriend already standing, but she had a thick rope coiling around her as if it was a snake. It wrapped around her ankles, up her legs, over her hips, it pinned her hands and arms to her midsection, and it bound her shoulders. Hermione teetered for a second before falling to the ground.
“Harry, run-“Hermione began. But a length of fabric materialized and tied itself around her mouth, effectively gagging her.
“At last, we’re alone,” Draco Malfoy said as he sauntered in and closed the door behind him. Hermione muffled something, most likely a threat at Draco. The blond ponce looked at the bound witch and corrected his statement. “Well, we’re /mostly/alone.”
Draco took two steps to Harry. With each step, Draco unhooked a clasp of his flaming pink robe.
“Wait, Malfoy, you don’t want to do this,” Harry protested as he took two steps back. If he had his wand, he’d Stun Draco, free Hermione, run out of the classroom, and pretend that this never happened. But since Draco was the only one with a wand and Harry knew that if he tried to escape, the blond wizard would either magically trip him or worst; tie him up like he had to Hermione.
“Oh, but I do want to do this, Harry,” lisped Draco. He unhooked another clasp and Harry could see that Malfoy wasn’t wearing a shirt under his garishly colored robe. “You know, shortly before I returned to this marvelous castle, I was hit with a bout of unbearable suffering. Apparently, this dreadful pain affected anyone with a Dark Mark. It was all over the Prophet if you don’t recall.”
“Yes I do, actually. Why don’t you tell me how you overcame it,” Harry said nervously. He was hoping to distract Malfoy long enough to figure out a way to escape.
“I managed because of our love,” Draco said affectionately. “The thought of our passion, our destiny, our love, gave me the strength to persevere. That and drinking half a bottle of Fire Whiskey in one swallow helped, too.”
At this point, Draco theatrically threw his robes open. Harry quickly averted his eyes. However, he was not quick enough to miss the fact that Draco wasn’t wearing any pants or trousers. And, worse, that he had a frilly lace ribbon tied in a bow around a certain part of his anatomy.
“Come to me my heart. Let us join in the bonds of fated love,” Draco said, and began to walk to Harry with his arms wide open, ready to embrace the black haired wizard.
Harry, being the brave Gryffindor that he was, leapt behind Hermione’s prone body and attempted to shield himself from Draco with his girlfriend. Hermione tried to protest, because she obviously didn’t like the sight of the “gift bow” either.
“Aha, poor befuddled Harry,” huffed Draco disappointedly, “still trying to deny your inner feelings of longing.”
The blond flicked his wand and Hermione was tugged from Harry’s grasp, and dragged to the other side of the room.
“I guess I’ll just have to show you the error of your ways,” Draco said with a knowing smile. “I’ve been saving myself for you.”
Draco took another three steps toward Harry. The black haired wizard scurried on his bum across the floor as to not give Draco a target.
“Well, to be honest, there was the five snog sessions with Colin,” Draco admitted, pausing in his approach. “But he was just an appetizer compared to you, so I don’t think I should even count him.” Again Draco moved and again, Harry scurried backwards on his bottom.
“Why do you run, my heart?” asked Draco adoringly. “We are meant to be together. It is fate, kismet, destiny!”
“Listen, that Prophet article was a misprint,” Harry blurted out. He had faced death on numerous occasions, but he never had to face the possibility of a willy shoved up his bum, much less one with a “gift bow.” “I’m in love with Hermione. We’ve had sex loads of times.”
“Refuse it all you want, my dearest soul mate,” Malfoy said, smirking. “Soon, you and I will be in the throws of passion. You’ll forget all about your frizzy haired beard.”
Hermione grunted another protest. Whether it was in defense of Harry or due to offence by being referred to as a beard, Harry couldn’t tell.
Suddenly, the door to the classroom swung open. All three sets of eyes turned to see Courtney walk in.
“Hey, what’s going on in here?” the Auror in training asked upon seeing Hermione bound and gagged. A demented twinkle appeared in her eyes and she said hopefully, “Oh, how kinky. You’ve tied Hermione up and now you two are going to take turns with her! Can I watch? I want to see the blond bloke take Hermione first!”
“What? I’d never touch a witch,” Draco said, clearly appalled by such an idea.
“Courtney, you have to help,” Harry said as he ran and bravely hid behind her. “Malfoy is infatuated with me; he’s positive that I’m in love with him.”
“It’s not infatuation, it’s true and pure love,” Draco objected. “You are my knight, the rescuer of the damsel, me.”
“He’s not gay,”Courtney said dismissively while looking the pink robed wizard up and down. Clearly, she was not offended by the fact that Draco had his bits exposed, nor that he had a frilly bow tied around his John Thomas.
“Yes, he is,”Harry argued.
“Yes I am,” agreed Draco. “Look at what I’m wearing.”
“Bright colors do not make a person gay. By the way, I like the bow,” the witch said with a smirk. “Personally, I’ve know plenty of gay blokes. Hell, I even dated a few of them before they came out of the closet. I can recognize a gay wizard from a mile away, closeted or otherwise.” Courtney then added in a soft undertone”Wish I would’ve had that skill before I dated the poofters to be.” She then said to Draco “You’re just confused.”
“No, I’m not,”Draco challenged. “I’m gay as the day is long!”
“Oh really, are you sure?” she asked. Courtney took a step towards Draco. She looked him in the eye and inquired; “Do you crave, no need to hold another wizard’s cock? To feel his pulse throb in your hand? Is it a dream of yours to run your tongue up his hot shaft and taste his sweat? Do you desire to have the musky taste of his cum on your tongue?”
As she spoke, Courtney inched forward, slowly closing the space between her and the blond wizard. Draco’s face twitch once or twice as the witch painted images with her words. But his eyes still held that defiance.
“Or is the thought of large breasts more appealing to you?” she continued to ask. Harry saw Courtney tug her robes open and took another step toward Draco. She was so close to the blond wizard that her orbs were gently brushing against his bare torso. “Would running your hands over the milky white flesh of a witch’s bosom make your heart race? Do you want to feel her hard nipples between your fingers as you tweak them?” She moved her torso so that her titties were being rubbed in circular motions on Draco’s chest. “What kind of sounds would she make when you rolled the nub between your fingers? Does the way her skin prickle at your touch fascinate you? Or does a part of you want to gently scrape your teeth on the underside of her breast? Do you desire to bat your tongue over her hard nipples?”
Draco’s face had turned a bright red and tiny droplets of sweat had sprung up on his brow. While still leaning into the wizard, Courtney looked back over her shoulder at Harry.
“He’s not gay,”she announced.
“Are you sure?”Harry asked nervously.
“Oh, yeah,” she said smiling. “When I was talking about man-bits, I didn’t get a twitch out of him.”
“Excuse me, his face got all scrunched up when you said those things,” Harry pointed out.
“I wasn’t talking about his face,” she clarified. “But once I started talking about jugs, well, let’s just say that the evidence that he doesn’t like blokes is pressing against me right now.”
Thankfully, Courtney did not move away from Draco to prove this point. However, Harry could see that Draco had his eyes fixed on the witch – – but it wasn’t her face that he was staring at. Despite this, Harry could still see that Draco was alittle confused and our hero feared that his school nemesis would have a relapse, so to speak, and try to molest him once again. A sudden idea came to Harry as to how he could keep Draco away from him.
“Courtney, could you… you know… take care of Draco?” Harry asked. “For me?”
“What the hell are you asking?” Courtney demanded. She closed her robes and turned to face Harry.
“Well, he’s still thinks he’s gay, at least a part of him does,” Harry explained. “Could you, please, show him that he really isn’t gay at all?”
“Are you asking me to shag him?” she demanded with her brow furrowed in anger.
“No, at least not necessarily,” Harry clarified. “I was thinking you could take him out and see how it plays from there. If shagging occurs, then so be it.”
“Sure, he’s a yummy. But, he hasn’t even bought me flowers or anything like that.”
“Here, Draco,”Harry began while digging through his pockets. He pulled out a few galleons and handed them to the mostly naked wizard. “Go buy Courtney some flowers.”
Draco snatched the gold from Harry, threw the two wands he had captured down on the ground, and dashed out of the room; clearly to go buy some flowers for Courtney. That or masturbate over the thought of her boobs. Or both.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she said with a touch of anger. “You’re trying to get him to go out with me because you don’t want him trying to molest you again.”
“That’s the gist of it, yes,” Harry said while nodding his head.
“You’re barmy,”she said. “What if it doesn’t work? What if we go on a date, he finds out I’m not his type of witch and he slips back into thinking he’s gay for you?”
“He got an erection,”Harry countered. “Of course he’ll like you.”
“Harry, just because he got a stiffy doesn’t mean he’s into me. Here, watch,” she said and pulled her robes open again.
“Oh, my,” murmured Harry as he tilted his head to the left. His other head took a distinct turn to the right. Hermione made some noise. Again, Harry didn’t know if she was protesting the fact that her boyfriend was looking at another witch’s bare breasts or if she was upset because she couldn’t see them herself.
“See, you already have wood,” Courtney gestured to Harry’s groin. “It doesn’t mean that you’re into me.”
After a second he shook his head (not that one, the one with two eyes) in an attempt to think clearly. “Listen, you said it yourself, Draco’s confused and you can help him stop from making a mistake.”
“What’s in it for me?” she asked.
“You may grow to like him,” speculated Harry even though he didn’t believe it himself; he couldn’t see how anyone with a pulse could like Draco. But some people were weird that way.
Courtney tapped her foot on the ground several times as she mulled over the proposition. This foot tapping caused her mounds to jiggle a touch to Harry’s fascination. Finally, she agreed. “All right, but you have to hook me up with someone else if it doesn’t work out. He has to be cute. But it’s okay that’ he’s ugly if he’s hung. Or rich.”
“Deal,” Harry said. He paused as a glimmer of light drew his attention back to Courtney’s breasts. “What’s that on your nipple?”
The wizard had been so transfixed by her breasts – – as any man would tell you, breasts are the most captivating object in the entire universe; the beauty of a picture perfect sunrise cannot hold a candle to a good boob – – that he had not noticed the silver ring dangling from her pink nub.
“Oh, it’s a nipple-ring,” she replied and threw her chest out so Harry could get a better look at the dangling piece of jewelry. “Do you like it?”
“No. A tit isn’t a Christmas tree; you don’t need to decorate it,” Harry said while still transfixed.
“They’re hot and fun,” Courtney argued. “Go on, give it a tug.”
“What?” Harry asked, taken back by the request.
“Tug on it,” she repeated. “It feels great.”
“Um, I have a girlfriend,” Harry said and pointed to his bound and gagged witch a few feet away. He was trying to use the age-old “My girlfriend will kill me if I do anything remotely like that” defense.
“She can give it apull after you,” Courtney said and then turned to Hermione. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Surprisingly, Hermione shrugged her shoulders in acceptance and muttered through the gag”mf-kay.”
Courtney spun back to face Harry and threw back her shoulders in order to present her sizable mounds to him. “All right now give it a tug.”
Hesitantly, Harry raised his hand and moved it slowly to Courtney’s offered tit. With a tremble in his hand, he took hold of the ring between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. Gently, he pulled the ring up and let it fall back down.
“What the hell was that?” demanded Courtney.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” protested Harry.
“I told you to tug on it,” the Auror said. “It’s not like I asked you to rip it off. But you didn’t even properly tug on it. You barely even touched it.”
Courtney rolled her eyes and flicked her wand at Hermione. The ropes and gag vanished with a soft pop. “Oi, Hermione, you’re a kinky girl. Come over here and show your boyfriend how to tug on my nipple ring the right way.”
A sweet smile graced Hermione’s lips as she stood. She carefully smoothed out the pleats of her skirt before walking up to the Auror.
Harry Potter had prevailed over numerous attempts on his life. He was the only known survivor of the dreaded Killing Curse. He survived wresting with a troll when he was eleven. When he was only twelve years old, he defeated a Basilisk. The young wizard vanquished hordes of Dementors when he was just thirteen. Survived a dragon and dueled the most fear dark wizard to a standstill when he was fourteen. And he fought off a dozen fully trained Death Eaters when he was fifteen until help arrived. But what Hermione did nearly ended Harry’s life.
The brunette witch politely folded her hands behind her back, bent over slightly at her hips so that her face was level with Courtney’s breasts, opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. Harry watched as his girlfriend’s tongue wriggled a bit before hooking the nipple ring. Deftly, Hermione’s talented tongue pulled the ring into her mouth before closing her teeth on the piece of jewelry. With a growl, Hermione pulled at the ring like a dog pulling on a toy. Courtney moaned softly as her sensitive flesh was stretched.
Simply put; it was a miracle that Harry didn’t drop dead right there.
“Cor, that was a good one,” cheered Courtney. The Auror looked at Harry and commented, “I think you broke him.”
“No, he’s fine,”Hermione said as she stood. “He just has a raging hard-on right now. Come on, baby, let’s go take care of that.”
“I don’t think I can move,” Harry said in a small voice as he felt his heart start to beat once more.
“We’re not going far. We’re just going over to the table over there so Courtney can watch again.”
“Okay,” Harry said and staggered to the teacher’s table.
“Although I should go fetch Luna,” Hermione said absentmindedly. “We did promise her that she could watch the next time we had a show.”
“It’s about time,”Luna’s disembodied voice sounded. The blonde witch slowly pulled off an invisibility cloak, announcing, “I’ve been following you two around for ages waiting for you to say that.”
“Where did you get that cloak?” asked Hermione.
“It’s Harry’s,”she replied, and carefully folded the magical cloak up. “I borrowed it so that I could follow you two.”
“Don’t you want to invite Ron to watch, too?” asked Hermione, clearly not bothered that their audience was growing.
“No, Ronald, the dear man, is quite boisterous when he masturbates. I’m afraid he’d distract from the show. I mean, I’ll cheer and give encouragement. But Ronald makes loud, nearly screaming, grunting sounds when he pleasures himself.” Luna took a seat and commanded, “Well, get on with the show.”
“You’ve been following us?” Harry asked. “But that means you watched as Draco tied Hermione up and threatened to molest me.”
“True,” Luna said casually.
“And you didn’t do anything to stop Malfoy?” the brunette witch asked.
“I told you that I wanted to see a sex show. Even though I had hoped that it would be you and Harry, at that point I would’ve settled for Harry and Draco. I was growing rather desperate.”
“Enough babbling, get on with the show,” Courtney ordered as she took a seat next to Luna.
As Hermione stripped Harry – – who still hadn’t fully recovered from Hermione tugging on Courtney’s tits with her teeth enough to use his hands properly – – Luna asked”Do they take requests?”
“Oh, yes,”Courtney answered. “What would you like to see?”
“Well, I think he should whack his penis against her face,” offered Luna in a sing-song tone.
As Hermione opened Harry’s trousers, she whispered in his ear; “That does sound exciting doesn’t it?”
That was when the shock of seeing his girlfriend playing with another witch’s tit went away. Encouraged by his kinky lover, Harry pulled /’Harry, Jr.’ /out of his pants.
“Yeah, penis!”cheered Luna.
Smiling, Hermione knelt down, closed her eyes, and waited for the playful blow. Now, since Harry wasn’t large, the/ “slap” was more like a “brush.” /But nonetheless, both Courtney and Luna cheered loudly and clapped when the action was played out.
After the unimpressive but still appreciated/ “cock slap,”/ Harry and Hermione proceeded to give the two witches one hell of a show. There was oral sex, nipple tweaking, sensual massages, and hair tugging. But Luna and Courtney gave the lovers a standing ovation when Harry pushed his fore and middle fingers up Hermione’s bottom. Each time Hermione announced an orgasm – – which she did loudly – – the two witches clapped and whistled. And the audience of two began chanting “Swallow, swallow” when it was apparent that Harry was nearing the end.
When the show ended and as the two lovers got dressed, Courtney stood and said; “This is always fun. Next time, tell me in advance of a show and I’ll bring refreshments.”
“See you next time,” Harry bid the Auror farewell as she walked out of the classroom. “I can’t believe I just said that there’ll be a/ ‘next time.’ / God, I’ve gone kinky.”
“That was brilliant,” Luna said happily. “I’ll have to make a Pensieve, so that Ronald and I can revisit this for our own pleasure.”
“Oh, Luna, I have a question,” Hermione began. “Can your father’s printing press make books as well as newspapers?”
“Yes, certainly,”Luna answered. “What are you planning?”
“We’re going to make an updated version of The Magic of Making Love,” the brunette replied. “Harry and I have come to the conclusion that it would be very beneficial to release it now during this troubling time.”
“Understandable. And you would get off on the idea of hundreds of people looking at dirty pictures of you two,” Luna added. “Oh, please tell me there’ll be photos, because I’d gladly be one of those hundreds looking at them.”
“I reckon there would have to be,” Harry said. “You know, to show the reader the proper poses and whatnot.”
“Then I’ll be the one taking the photos!” Luna gushed. “I can’t believe I’ll be helping Harry Potter and Hermione Granger make a book!”
“We’ll be using noms de plume, actually,” informed Hermione. “Yes, we can admit that we’re kinky and have grown to like having people watch, but we’d still like some privacy.”
“Well, you’ll have to alter your features as well then,” Luna stated. “Harry is so recognizable that he’d be spotted straight away.”
“Good point,” the brunette agreed. “I’ll work on some glamour charms, and we’ll start taking photos this weekend”
“Hey Luna, how about you and Ron participate? You know, you two can act as models as well. That way, the reader will have two couples to look at,” offered Harry.
Luna’s response was not given in words as much as it was given in kisses. And it wasn’t just chaste innocent kisses, but the type of kiss where a bystander might get the impression that one of the parties was trying their best to suffocate the other with their tongue.
Harry, who had his hands up in surprise, could do nothing but stand there as the blonde witch dangled from his neck as she assaulted him with her tongue. He looked over at Hermione and was surprised to see that she was smiling as if she found this amusing.
“Um, Luna, that’s my boyfriend,” Hermione stated nonchalantly as the blonde continued to snog Harry.
After a good long time, Luna removed herself from Harry. She hopped in place with a bright smile as she said “Oh, thank you Harry! That would be brilliant!”
Harry wasn’t even given a blink of an eye to recover from Luna’s kiss before the blonde pounced on Hermione. Just as she had with Harry, Luna rammed her tongue deep into Hermione’s mouth. The only difference between the two kisses was that after a few seconds, Hermione returned the kiss with an equal amount of energy. Apparently she had quickly become accustomed to Luna’s kiss and had decided to reciprocate it.
The wizard watched in awe as his girlfriend swapped spit with his best mate’s wife. He saw their tongues dance and fight with one another, teeth scraping against the other witch’s teeth, and their lips pushing each other.
Now, it was perfectly normal that this view caused ‘Harry, Jr.’ to suddenly wake up again. And it was also perfectly normal for a majority of the blood that filled Harry’s brain to be rapidly redirected so that the body could reinforce this spontaneous erection. This caused our hero to become light headed and swayed a touch.
Luna finally pulled away from Hermione’s lips. A thin string of spit still connected the two witches’ mouths.
“You are energetic, aren’t you?” Hermione asked the blonde rhetorically.
The blonde licked her lips and happily commented, “So that’s what Harry tastes like.” She licked her lips once again and added; “I see now why you like to swallow. He’s very yummy.”
“It’s the diet I put him on,” Hermione replied. “I cannot recommend it enough.”
Fighting the hemorrhage that was threatening to end his existence, Harry tugged down his trousers, freeing /’Harry, Jr.’/. And after grabbing Hermione about the shoulders, and while he was dragging Hermione back to the table, he asked Luna”You care to stick around for another show?”
“Can I help?” the blonde asked. She was so excited that she looked to be on the verge of hyperventilating.
“How do you mean?”asked Hermione slightly distracted, as Harry forcibly tore her blouse open.
“Well, for starters, I was hoping to hold Harry’s organ and guide him into your quivering cunny,” she answered.
“Luna! How could you ask such a thing?” asked Hermione, a touch scandalized.
“Because it would be fun!” she replied. The blonde’s enthusiasm was not dampened in the slightest by Hermione’s disapproving tone.
“What would Ron think?” asked Harry. “Wouldn’t he’d be upset if you participated?”
“No, Ronald and I discussed this very scenario before I transfigured him into a mouse,” Luna answered with her eyes still sparkling wildly.
“Why’d you turn Ron into a mouse?” asked Harry.
“Isn’t it obvious? So he could tag along,” Luna said, digging her hand into the pocket of her robe. After a moment, she pulled out her hand and presented a small mouse with flaming red fur sitting in her palm.
“I thought he didn’t want to watch?” Hermione asked.
“Well, he changed his mind,” the blonde stated. “He was still too embarrassed by his loud masturbation, so I figured it would be better if he was a mouse. Since his loud grunts would be just tiny mouse squeaks, he could wank himself to his heart’s content.”
“Oh,” Harry said, trying not to attempt to decipher Luna’s impossible logic.
“And I didn’t tell you about Ronald when Courtney was here because I felt it would’ve been inappropriate to tell her that I had a masturbating mouse in my pocket,” added Luna.
“Of course,”Hermione said as she too tried not to comprehend the blonde witch’s thoughts.
Luna held the mouse (who was her husband) up to her lips and asked, “Ronald; isn’t it all right if I help Harry and Hermione make love?”
Surprisingly, the mouse nodded its head emphatically.
“See, Ronald says yes,” Luna said, and beamed a bright smile at Harry and Hermione.
Harry and Hermione shared a look. The brunette shrugged her shoulders, clearly giving Harry permission to say yes.
“Sure thing,” said Harry.
Squealing like a little girl who found out she had gotten a real live pony on Christmas morning, Luna ran up to the table, placing Ron on it. Both the blonde witch and the mouse watched intently as Harry and Hermione continued to strip naked.
Hermione laid on her back, and as Harry crawled up on top of her, he asked Luna “You ready?” He was expecting to have her take hold of his manhood like she had asked.
“What, no foreplay?” the blonde asked. Before either of the naked lovers could answer Luna’s question, she squealed once again. “Oh, I see, you’ve given me permission to help even more than just guiding. How wonderful!”
Luna bent over so rapidly, that Harry’s initial thought was that someone had punched her in the gut, causing her to collapse in agony. But obviously, Luna was not in pain. She was just very eager to put/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /in her mouth.
Harry gasped in surprise when a set of lips and tongue belonging to someone other than his girlfriend enveloped his penis. He was in too much shock to try and recoil away.
“LUNA!” screeched Hermione as Luna bobbed twice on Harry’s bits.
“Oh, I’m sorry,”Luna apologized, wiping the spit from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Where are my manners; it should always be ladies first.”
The blonde took hold of Hermione’s legs behind the knees and rolled them up so that the brunette’s bum was in the air. Before Hermione could fight back, Luna dove straight into her exposed shorn muff.
As the blonde worked her tongue and lips on Hermione’s sensitive bits, the brunette moaned. “/O-o-oh- oh/ -she’s rather -/GOOD /-good at this!”
Luna paused and commented, “Well, I did learn a good deal from that Pensieve you made for us.” And with that, the blonde went back to stimulating Hermione.
Harry watched in utter fascination as his lover was eaten out by another witch. When Hermione came, Harry dared to make a suggestion. “It would be rude if Luna didn’t get eaten out. You know, tit for tat, and all that.”
Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him before replying, “Why not?”
“Yippee,” Luna cheered and began to rapidly strip. Once she was naked, she hopped on the table. The two witches repositioned themselves, allowing Hermione better access to Luna’s blonde muff.
The moment Hermione’s lips touched Luna’s flower, Harry almost came. He groaned as he held back his ecstasy.
Ron on the other hand had not faired as well. The red mouse had promptly fainted.
“Poor guy, he’s going to miss one awesome show,” Harry said as his attention returned to the two vigorous witches.
After a moment, Hermione pulled away and said, “You should really experience Harry’s parsletongue magic. It’ll blow your mind.
“Are you offering?” Luna asked hopefully.
“Well, why don’t you spread your legs even wider so that Harry and I can both go down on you at the same time,” Hermione ordered.
Luna did as was requested, and Harry joined his girlfriend. Their cheeks were pressed against each other as their tongues probed and licked Luna’s flower. Thanks to two tongues -and Harry’s wonderful magic -Luna came in no time.
“That was like I was run over by a rampaging curved backed bi-horned plaque eater!” the blonde cheered between pants. “Do it again!”
When all was said and done, Harry was one tired man. Not only had Luna commanded that he continue to use his magical tongue on her for twenty minutes, but when after making love to Hermione, he came in his lover’s mouth once again. And as before, the brunette gladly shared a messy and sticky kiss with Luna. Watching the two witches play with his mess caused Harry to rapidly get another erection. This erection led to another show, one where Luna once again participated. And in a replay of the earlier activities, she and Hermione shared Harry’s discharge. Obviously, this repeated action caused yet another erection.
After it was all done, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was a very, very happy and satisfied organ. Of course it had fallen into a coma, but it was a happy and satisfied coma.
SoG
Early on Saturday morning, Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Ron walked through the secret underground corridor and into the Shrieking Shack.
“Oh, wow,” Ron said in amazement as he looked up at the now opulent interior of the Shack. The alterations that Harry had accidentally made when he and Hermione had made love for the first time were still in place.
“Okay, you two, you go into one of the bedrooms and change, using that glamour charm I taught you. Harry and I will do the same in another room,” Hermione told the other couple.
“Sure thing,” Ron said while eyeing the impressive staircase.
Harry and Hermione made their way to the luxurious master suite. Once there, they parted and entered the separate bathrooms, in order to surprise their partner with their”new” look.
The wizard waved his wand over his face and cast one of the many glamour charms that Hermione had told him about. He eyed himself in the mirror and nodded his head in approval.
“Are you ready?”he called out to the other bathroom, as he entered the bedroom.
“Not just yet,”Hermione answered through the door. “Have you thought of a nom de plume yet?”
“Yeah, I’ll be’Tim Hunter,'” announced Harry. He felt that it was dashing and suited him to a Tee.
“Tim Hunter, I like that,” Hermione said.
“What’s your name going to be?” he asked.
“Mona Puckle” she replied.
“That’s neat,”Harry said.
As Hermione continued to change her appearance, Hedwig swooped in through one of the master suite’s picturesque windows. The owl landed on the wizard’s outstretched arm and presented a letter. Harry note the letter and thanked his familiar. Hedwig hooted happily and flew out the window.
Harry opened the post and read a note from Alicia.
“Thanks for the information, Harry. After your endorsement, I finally worked up the courage and gave the beads a try. That’s why I haven’t responded to your post until now. My boyfriend was more than excited to tug those little bad boys out of my bum. We’ve been playing with it for days on end. Hell, I went to work with them wedged up there – -bending over to pick up packages proved to be a surprising experiment. It was interesting to say the least.
If you have any other toys that you’d like to recommend, please don’t hesitate to let me know.
Love,
Alicia”
While Harry read the note, Hedwig flew in and out of the room twice. Apparently the owl was dumbfounded that the interior of the Shack was so much larger than the exterior, and she was trying to figure out how this could be possible.
“Say hello to ‘Mona Puckle’,” announced Hermione, as she stepped out of the bathroom. Her now strawberry blonde hair was straight and cut short. Her nose was slightly longer with her cheekbones a touch more predominate on her face. A cute little dimple graced her chin.
“Wow, you look smashing,” stated Harry, as Hedwig flew out of the room once more.
Hermione eyed her boyfriend disapprovingly. “For Heaven’s sake, Harry; all you did was change your hair from dark black to dark brown.”
“No, I covered up my scar, too,” Harry protested. As he pointed to his forehead to show off his smooth brow, Hedwig swooped into the room once more, and landed on his arm this time.
“You still have your glasses on. And Hedwig’s perched on your arm,” scolded Hermione. “With just one look, anyone could tell that Harry Potter is Tim Hunter.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” he said while looking at his owl as the bird took flight once more. “She keeps yo-yoing in and out of the room.”
“Come here,”Hermione said. She led Harry into the bathroom she had used and retrieved her wand. She waved it in a complex pattern in front of Harry’s face for a full four minutes. When she was done, Harry had short and spiky, dirty blonde hair, a square jaw with a cleft chin, and strong cheekbones.
“See, now no one can compare the similarities between Harry Potter and Tim Hunter,” Hermione said proudly.
The disguised couple left the bedroom and made their way to the game room. There they found Ron and Luna waiting for them in their disguises. Luna had changed the color of her eyes to violet, and now had inky black hair that was so long it hung nearly to her knees. Added to her changed appearance, the witch’s cheeks were rounder, both sets of cheeks that is. Ron had lost his gangly appearance with the illusion of an extra fifteen pounds of muscle, and a hint of fat around his waist. His hair was dark black, just as Luna’s, and was medium length with wispy curls. With Ron’s slightly furrowed brow, deep eyes, and half smile he had magically changed his expression so that he looked cool and calm while in deep thought – – or at least Harry thought it was an illusion, because when Ron normally tried to look like he was in deep thought, he often gave the impression that he was confused and a bit frightened.
Luna held up four pairs of black silk eye masks, saying, “I think we should wear these. It will add a touch of sensuality and mystery to the photographs. Also, I believe it will help conceal our identities. If we wear these masks, most people will assume that they are our only means of concealing our identities and won’t attempt to investigate further.”
“That’s brilliant, Luna,” Hermione said, and took one of the offered masks. She tied it around her head and introduced her alter ego. “Hello, I’m Mona Puckle.”
“Hi Mona, my name is Perky Weatherby,” said Luna as she curtsied. The now black haired witch gestured to Ron, stating, “And this is my partner; Neil Gaiman.”
“Hello Neil, I’m Tim Hunter,” Harry greeted and shook Ron’s hand.
“I get this strange impression that we’ve met somewhere before,” Ron playfully returned.
“How peculiar, I get that impression, as well,” Harry said with a laugh.
“Have you come up with a name for the book yet?” asked Luna.
“Not yet,”Hermione replied. “We’ll think of something.”
“I know, how about/’Books of Magic’/?” offered Harry.
“That’s brilliant,” cheered Ron. “‘Books of Magic: the Teachings of Tim Hunter and Mona Puckle, as told to Neil Gaiman!”
“What about me?”Luna asked.
“Oh, yeah. ‘…as told to Neil Gaiman and Perky Weatherby,” corrected Ron.
“If anything, it will have all four of our fake names as authors,” Harry said. “Besides, now that I think about it, I believe ‘Books of Magic’ may already have been written. The last thing I need is to get sued for plagiarism.”
“All right then, we’ll come up with a title later. But for now; let’s get started,” announced Hermione. “I think we should begin by photographing some stretches and limbering exercises. That way the readers can hold some of the positions for the rituals. And we can loosen up for the rest of the necessary poses.”
“Should we do it in the nude?” Luna asked.
“Why not,” Harry answered.
The four friends quickly stripped; not embarrassed or concerned with their nudity in the slightest.
Hermione walked up to Luna and, while looking directly at her enormous boobs, said, “You know, Luna, I think you’ve turned me into a bit of a breast connoisseur.” She reached forward and took hold of each large tit. Hermione squashed them. The milky white flesh of Luna’s ample breasts was compressed between Hermione’s fingers. Hermione admitted; “They’re simply amazing.”
While Hermione continued to fondle and jiggle Luna’s epic titties, Luna decided to return the favor. She, too, reached out and began playing with Hermione smaller, yet still wonderful, breasts. Nipples were pinched, tits were jiggled, and boobs were squished together as the witches giggled and laughed lightheartedly.
After this mutual breast play, Luna looked over at the two practically comatose and openly drooling wizards, and echoed Courtney’s earlier diagnosis: “I think we broke them.”
To Be Continued

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Four: Grime and Punishment
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-Four: Snape reveals the truth that everybody already knew.
“What’s he doing here?” Ron spat through clenched teeth.
Harry’s blood was boiling with rage as he watched the man who had betrayed and murdered Dumbledore walking just a few feet away. Harry wanted to rush up to Snape and hex the traitorous bastard into oblivion.
Before he could react, Harry saw Snape pull a small knife out of his pocket. He watched as Snape cut open his own hand, much like Harry had done shortly before. The greasy git wiped his hand, smearing his blood onto the hidden doorway. The young wizard watched in bewilderment as the door magically appeared, and Snape vanished into the hidden hallway.
“What d’you think he’s doing?” asked Ron, in a more confused than normal tone.
“Maybe he is checking on the Horcruxes for You Know Who,” suggested Luna.
“Why would he?”returned Hermione. “Voldemort’s never checked on his Horcruxes before. Why should he start now? Unless… unless Voldemort has figured out we’re destroying them and he’s having his minions check on the remaining ones! But why would he send one of his followers to do it? This could be bad,” the brunette’s voice grew worried. “Oh, no. What if Voldemort found out what we’re doing and is using his minions to move all of the Horcruxes to a more secure location?”
“Well if that does happen, all you have to do is rub another one out of Harry and track them down again,” Ron offered off-handedly.
“Ronald, don’t use such crude language,” chastised Luna. “‘Rub one out,’ how low. The correct phrase is ‘wank him off.’ And you forgot to add ‘and take it in the face.’ That’s the proper language for this situation. I thought you knew better than that.”
“What are we going to do, Harry?” Hermione asked, clearly trying to ignore Luna and Ron’s exchange.
“We capture him, that’s what,” Harry said flatly.
The three friends stared at Harry for a full two seconds before Ron stated in an overly sarcastic way; “Oh, just capture him. That should be easy. Bloody easy I should say.”
“Harry, Snape is an experienced duelist and a master Legilimens,”informed Hermione. “He’d take us out with little effort. The four of us wouldn’t be much of a challenge, even allowing for both of our power boosts. He’d be able to see our moves through his Legilimency and block them or even stop us before we finished our incantations.”
“If we play our cards right, we won’t have to duel him,” Harry said as a sly grin stretched across his face. For the first time since Snape appeared, Harry turned and faced his friends. “We set some traps and snatch him. Hermione and Luna, you two know more traps than Ron and I do. Lay as many traps right outside the door as you can. Leg-Lockers, Binding Jinxes, Disarming Traps, anything you can think up.”
“Do you think that’ll work?” asked Luna.
“Why not?” returned Harry. “For all Snape knows, he’s disarmed the traps outside the exit. He won’t be expecting any new ones when he comes out.”
Without another word, Luna and Hermione dashed toward the hidden entrance and immediately began twirling their wands about, casting trap after trap on the area just outside the door. Every few seconds one witch would suggest a trap to cast to the other; “Try Finnegan’s Folly right there”or “How about Carmen’s Bumbler, it’s an oldie but goody” to name a few. As the two witches worked as quickly as they could, Ron and Harry had their wands out and leveled at the door, ready to launch hexes and jinxes in case Snape were to come out while their witches incanted.
A few minutes later, Hermione and Luna, satisfied that enough traps were laid, rejoined Harry and Ron in the shadows across the street. All four stared at the invisible door in silence, almost willing Snape to come out so they could capture him. Thankfully, the teens’ patience was not tried too much.
The door popped into existence less than a minute after Hermione and Luna had completed their task. Harry could almost hear the old hinges of the door creak from across the street as it slowly opened. A sour and disappointed looking Snape was framed in the dark doorway. He glanced to his left and then to the right, sneering at the empty space in front of him. Satisfied that no one was watching, the Potions Master stepped out of the doorway. The moment his foot touched the ground outside the door a loud bang echoed through the air.
Two things happened at the exact same time. First; Snape’s feet were tugged backward, as if an invisible rope had pulled violently on the limbs; making the surly wizard pitch forward. Second, Snape’s wand sprung from his hand and soared through the air. It clattered on the ground a dozen feet away from the greasy wizard.
As Snape continued to pitch forward, he tried to break his fall by placing his hands in front of him. This attempted act of self-preservation only triggered two of Hermione’s and Luna’s traps. A Body Bind hex caused Snape’s limbs to snap together while Levicorpus hoisted the wizard into the air by his ankles.
A victorious smile appeared on Harry’s face.
“We did it!”cheered Hermione.
“You doubted my plan?” the bespectacled wizard said with a false air of disapproval.
“Oh, will you ever forgive me for my transgressions?” returned Hermione with an equal helping of irony.
As the four friends moved in a group to the immobile and inverted villain, Ron added to Harry’s and Hermione’s interchange. And Ron, being Ron of course, missed his friends’ tone and spoke with sincerity. “Of course we beat him. We knocked his arseout in our third year, remember? And all we used was just an Expelliarmus; a simple charm we learned in our second year.”
A few feet away from their dangling detainee, Ron gasped, as if an epiphany came to him. “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if you defeated You Know Who with an Expelliarmus, Harry.”
“Don’t be asinine, Ron,” Hermione glared at Ron the way an instructor stares at a lovable dim-witted child. “Voldemort’s the most feared and powerful dark wizard in a century. A simple Expelliarmus can’t defeat him. It is a disarming charm; it doesn’t really do much to an opponent if one is able to think on their feet.”
“But, what if-” he began to defend himself.
“Ronald, Hermione is right,” Luna said softly and kindly… like the way an instructor speaks compassionately to a lovable dim-witted student. “To even think that such a childish spell could defeat someone like You Know Who is just plain dumb, my love.”
Ron’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Feeling sorry for his best mate, Harry patted the red haired wizard on the back. “If my life wasn’t in mortal danger during aduel with the most powerful and feared wizard of our times, I would definitely try to cast an Expelliarmus on him, Ron.”
“Thanks, Harry,”Ron smiled.
Turning his attention away from his lovable dim-witted friend, Harry stared angrily at his former potions professor.
“Looks like justice will have its day, you bastard,” Harry threatened.
Snape’s fathomless black eyes narrowed on Harry’s. Harry knew that the git was using Legamcyto probe his thoughts, but the young wizard didn’t care. In a few moments, he’d bodily haul Snape to the Ministry so they could chuck his arse in Azkaban.
“You destroyed theHorcrux,” stated Snape.
“Yeah, I did,” the raven haired wizard said in a dismissive manner. “And a few of the others as well. Your master’s time is running short,” he finished boldly.
“Wait, you found the cup?” Snape asked.
“Yep, found and destroyed. Including the diary, ring, and the anvil, that means Voldemort is down four Horcruxes,” Harry gloated.
“How did you find them so quickly?” the greasy wizard demanded.
“A simple searching ritual,” he answered proudly.
“The Dark Lord has dozens of wards against any form of magical searching,” Snape argued. “How could a wizard as feeble as you bypass them?”
“I have my ways,”Harry said and his mind drifted back to the wonderful han – err – ritual that he and Hermione performed. Which was a mistake.
Snape’s eyes bulged and he began looking between Harry and Hermione in disbelief. It was at that moment that Harry made amental note not to recall intimate moments in front of a master Legilimens.
Again, Snape’s eyes narrowed on Harry. “I thought you looked at Granger like she was your sister,” the villain said with clear disgust.
“My ‘sister’?” Harry shot back with mirrored revulsion. “How the hell would you think that?”
“It was an impression I got,” answered Snape. “I assumed that you felt that she was nothing more than a sister to you. It is obvious to me that ishow you acted in regards to your feelings for Granger.”
“How I acted? I’m an only bloody child. How the fuck would I know what having asister felt like?” retorted Harry. “So, how could I have acted like I felt that Hermione was a sister? That makes no sense at all. Not once since I met Hermione have I ever thought of her as a sister, not even in passing. So it would’ve been an uneducated assumption on your part to conclude that I had brotherly feelings for her. As a best friend, yes; as a sister, no! Besides, if I thought of anyone like asibling it would’ve been Ron. And that’s only because I looked at Mrs. Weasley as a surrogate mother; especially after the fiasco that was the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard.”
For some inexplicable reason, Hermione snorted a chuckle.
“What?” Harry turned, asking his girlfriend.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. The twinkle in her eyes told Harry it was indeed something. But before he could press the issue, a thought occurred to him; something just a little bit more important than finding out why Hermione laughed.
“Wait. How’d you know about the Horcruxes anyway?”he demanded of Snape. “I thought Voldemort would’ve never told anyone about them.”
“Just as slow as ever, Potter,” Snape said snidely. “Ask yourself why would the Dark Lord willingly divulge such a vulnerability?”
“I just asked you that,” Harry snapped. “You can’t ask me my own question back. You’re the prisoner and I’m the one who captured you. It’s not proper.”
Snape smiled his greasy, crooked tooth smile in response.
“I can hex you, you know,” threatened Harry while waving his wand in front of Snape’s hooked nose.
“Because Voldemort didn’t,” Hermione answered Snape’s question. “At least, not knowingly.”
Harry turned and faced Hermione once again. The witch had an expression somewhere between understanding and confusion. As if what she had said had seemed clear but had brought up a bevy of other questions.
“Ah, I can practically hear the gears turning in your puny little minds,” mocked Snape. It infuriated Harry that even though Snape was bound and defenseless, he still seemed to have the upper hand.
“I say we disregard his motivation and just drag his bottom to the Ministry,” Luna threatened, although her tone wasn’t very intimidating; the way she spoke sounded like she was offering to bake biscuits and share them with the potions master.
“I agree with Luna,” Ron said. He glowered at Snape before turning to his wife and whispering in her ear, “Don’t use the word ‘bottom’ when threatening someone. It ruins the effect.”
“You’re… you’re working against him?” speculated Harry.
“Very good, Potter. It seems the Headmaster’s faith in you wasn’t completely wasted,” Snape said scornfully.
“I think he’s still lying,” Ron snapped. “He’s just playing us. Trying to distract us so he can escape.”
“Yes, you’ve discovered my brilliant plan, Weasley,” the greasy wizard glared at Ron.
“You killed Dumbledore. I saw it with my own eyes,”Harry snarled. “Why should I believe you when you say you’re working against Voldemort?”
“I have a vial of Veritaserum in my left robe pocket,” the greasy gitstated. “Feed me three drops, and you’ll know I am speaking the truth.”
“It’s a colorless and odorless potion, how the hell can we tell if it’s Veritaserum and not just water?” demanded Hermione.
“I still fail to see why so many people consider you a brilliant witch, I have always known you to be just slightly above average for a Gryffindor, which is not saying much,” Snape said. “A child could tell you that you can easily verify the potion by using it on one of yourselves, and then ask something that the test subject wouldn’t normally reveal.”
“What if it’s apoison?” Luna asked. “If one of us takes it, we could die.”
“And how would killing one of you dolts be helpful to me? If it was a poison, I would’ve suggested that all four of you take it, not just one,” the former Head of Slytherin snapped. “If it was a poison and I did trick one of you into taking it, I’d still have to deal with the other three. And in my current predicament, frozen, dangling upside-down in mid-air without a wand, the three of you, despite your lowly skills, would make short work of me. What good would it do if I poisoned only one of you?”
The four friends shared a look. Harry was hesitant, what he really wanted to do was drag the son of a bitch down to the Ministry so that they could chuck him into Azkaban. But apart of the young wizard was wondering if Snape was telling the truth; what if he truly was working on bringing Voldemort down? What if Snape was still a spy for the light?
“I’ll do it,” Ron offered, his voice hesitant and soft. “I’ll test the potion.”
“Are you sure?”asked Harry.
“Yeah,” Ron replied and took a step toward Snape. “Um, how about we make a Portkey to St. Mango’s, just in case it is a poison, though?”
Luna toed off one of her shoes. Bending over at the hips, she tapped her wand against her discarded shoe and incanted, “Portus.”
As the shoe trembled and glowed, Ron stood in front of Snape.
“The vial is in my front left pocket,” the captured wizard said.
While Ron dug around in Snape’s robes, Harry asked his former instructor “You always keep avial of Veritaserum on you?”
“Yes, among anumber of other potions, including several antidotes,” Snape stated arrogantly. “I find it best, unlike others whom I won’t mention,” he glared directly at Harry, “to be prepared.”
Finally, Ron tugged a small glass vial out of Snape’s robes.
“Put three drops on your tongue, Weasley,” the Potions Master commanded.
Uncorking the tiny bottle, Ron nervously asked Luna “Is that Portkeyready?”
“Yes, Ronald,”replied Luna. Her eyes were wide(well… wider than normal) with anxious worry.
The red haired wizard opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. With a steady hand, Ron tilted the vial and cautiously dropped three dollops of the liquid on his tongue. He swallowed, placed the stopper back in the vial, turned to face his friends and said “I don’t think it wor-”
That’s when Ron’s expression went blank. His eyes glazed over and his mouth hung open and slack jawed.
Out of the corner of Harry’s eye, he saw Luna run her hands over the front of her robes. He asked”What are you doing, Luna?”
“Checking to see if my breasts are exposed,” the blonde witch answered lightly. “Ronald gets that same expression whenever he sees my breasts. I was worried that they had popped out accidentally. They do that sometimes, you know.”
“Really, his expression changed?” Hermione asked no-one in particular under her breath. “I can’t tell. He looks like he always does to me.”
“It’s the Veritaserum, you fools,” Snape spoke slowly, as if Harry and his friends had difficulty understanding such a basic concept. “Ask Weasley your questions so you can verify the potion.”
“Okay, Ron, tell us something you don’t want us to know,” Harry asked. If the potion truly was Veritaserum, Ron would answer truthfully.
In a daze, Ron stated “I really liked it when Luna stuck her finger into my bottom.”
Harry, Hermione, and Snape balked at Ron’s admission while Luna giggled happily.
“So much so that Iwant her to do it again,” the red haired wizard continued, unfortunately. This caused the three who balked to take astep back – which was rather difficult for Snape seeing that he was bound in place and hanging upside-down. But Luna only seemed encouraged. In fact, Harry assumed by the eager look in her eyes that she was willing to acquiesce to Ron’s request right there in the alleyway. And knowing her past history, such an event was a definite possibility. Harry’s assumption was confirmed when the blonde witch held up her index finger and began to wiggle it about. “I know I acted shocked and hurt when she did it that one time,” Ron forged ahead. “But really, I was just surprised at how much I liked it, to be honest.”
“Um, that’s enough Ron, we know it’s Veritaserum. You can stop,” Harry implored almost desperately. He was terrified that Luna, encouraged by her husband’s revelation would bound over to Ron and jab one of her digits up his bum. Not wanting to see that, he begged Ron. “Please, stop.”
“In fact, I’m hoping she’ll use two fingers next time,” Ron added.
“Stupefy!” Hermione cried out frantically. A bolt of red magic leapt from her wand and struck Ron, squarely in the chest. The gangly wizard collapsed to the ground unconscious.
“Hermione, I won’t be able to fulfill Ronald’s wishes if he isn’t awake,” Luna said in her usual dreamy tone. With her left hand she caressed her right index finger, as if warming it up for the nefarious purpose.
“That was the point,” Hermione said with a desperate edge to her voice.
“Well, I suppose Icould still do my wifely duties, even if he is unconscious,” the blonde said, taking a step toward her unconscious husband.
Hermione pointed her wand at Luna and warned, “Don’t make me use this on you.”
With the brunette’s wand leveled at her head, Luna took a step back, albeit clearly disappointed.
“If I still held my position as professor at Hogwarts, I might’ve considered giving Gryffindor points for your actions, Granger,” Snape said to the brunette witch and then reiterated; “Might have.”
“All right, let’s get this over with,” Harry said.
Hermione nodded and walked over to Ron. While she picked up the vial of Veritaserum Harry waved his wand at Snape. The Potions Master slowly pivoted in air, turning right side up.
“Open your mouth,”Hermione, whose voice showed no sympathy for the magically bound wizard, commanded. Snape opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue as far as it could go. Even with this contortion of his features, the gitstill looked like he was sneering at Harry.
Carefully, Hermione measured out three drops of Veritaserum onto Snape’s tongue. He swallowed and a second later his face went blank much like Ron’s had.
Knowing that the Veritaserum would make Snape answer nothing but the truth, Harry asked “Why are you here?”
“I am on a mission to retrieve the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes so that they can be destroyed and he can be finally defeated,” Snape spoke in a flat and emotionless tone.
“Who gave you this mission?” asked Harry.
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” he replied. “Due to the injuries he received when he destroyed the ring-Horcruxand his advanced age, the Headmaster was dying. Dying painfully. He had come up with the plan for me to carry out Draco’s mission of killing him for the Dark Lord. That way I’d save Draco from any evil act… well, murder at any rate. And I’d show agreat man who was suffering immensely mercy. My actions would also entrench myself in the Dark Lord’s ranks. The Dark Lord would herald me for killing his hated enemy. He would reward me by making me his most trusted servant. And with that trust, I would be able to gather information on the whereabouts of his Horcruxes.”
“How’d you do that?” inquired Harry. “I don’t imagine he’d ever divulge the secret to his immortality to anyone.”
“I am a Potion Master,” he answered. If it wasn’t for the effects of the Veritaserum making him speak in a monotone, Harry was positive that Snape would have been overly arrogant and degrading to the younger wizard. “I used a combination of Sleeping Draughts and Veritaserum to pry the information out of him as he slumbered. If he had remembered divulging any of his secrets, which was unlikely, it would’ve seemed like he had done so in a dream.”
Recalling the missing Horcrux, the one they couldn’t find through the han – err – ritual, Harry asked “How many locations have you gotten?”
“Just this one, Gryffindor’s useless wizarding anvil,” Snape replied. “I’ve had to work slowly, only taking small pieces of information from the Dark Lord, asking about traps and wards along with the location, night by night. I feared that to ask more than one question a night would alert him to my mission, and I’d be killed.”
Harry cursed silently. At this rate, he’d never find the missing Horcrux.
Pushing that depressing revelation to the side, Harry returned his thoughts to Snape. The git was telling the truth, he was still working for the light. The bespectacled wizard was still angry that Snape had killed Dumbledore, despite the fact that it was an act of mercy that Dumbledore had not only welcomed but encouraged. Then aquestion came to Harry; why was Snape working for the light? As far as Harry knew, Snape was a bigot and pure blood elitist even though he himself was of mixed heritage. Curiosity got the better of the young wizard and he asked, “Why did you join the Order?”
“I am in love with your mother,” was his answer. “Even to this day.”
Harry was floored. Snape betrayed his master out of love. And love for Harry’s own mother. Yet, Harry recalled how Snape had cruelly called Lily a Mudblood in the Pensivememory. How could he have called her such a foul name if he was in love with her?
“Even though she was a mudblood, I still masturbate ferociously to her memory,” Snape continued.
At that moment, Harry lost control of his bladder. The concept of Snape pleasuring himself over anything was highly disturbing. The fact that greasy git was doing so to the memory of Harry’s mother made it downright terrifying for the young wizard. As his warm urine flowed down his trousers, he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Hermione’s complexion had gone asickly green, and Luna had blanched and held her hands in front of her mouth, apparently to stop the vomit from erupting from her lips. They too were just as disturbed by Snape’s admission.
“It is truly disgusting just how often I abuse myself with the thought of Lily, even now, but particularly when I was still a student,” Snape forged ahead. “By my seventh year, my right forearm was twice the size of my left.”
Silently, Harry begged Hermione to stun Snape like she had done to Ron, because fear had paralyzed Harry and he couldn’t do it himself. Unfortunately, the same fear that had rendered Harry a statue had claimed Hermione as well.
“In my third year, I cut holes in the pockets of my robes,” the elder wizard regrettably persistent. “Whenever Lily spoke to someone… Iconstantly followed her, lurking in the shadows just to hear the mudblood’s angelic voice as she talked with the other students… I would discreetly slip my hands through those holes and fondle myself. Just the sound of her sweet voice was enough to get me hard as steel. I had gotten so skilled at defiling myself under my robes that I could carry on a conversation with another student while that gorgeous mudblood red-head had her own private discussion. I could pleasure myself, with no one the wiser. Many, many times did I ejaculate in my own shorts while imagining actually speaking to her, be it about schoolwork, the weather, politics, or whatever other topics came up.
“One time, while Lily was studying in the Library, she had turned her back and, seeing my chance, I slinked out of the nearby dark alcove where I was hiding and defiling myself – which I did often – and nicked her Charm’s notes. That night I stripped naked and rubbed her delicious parchment all over my bare and sensitive flesh. The words she had written danced over my taught nipples. In a way, I was cleansing myself with her essence when I did that. That night, that wondrously glorious night, I came so much that I lost consciousness,” Snape spoke. “When I anonymously returned her notes, I heard Lily asking her friends how the recovered parchment could have gotten so badly crumpled. I fantasized that if I ever had the nerve to talk to that wondrous mudblood, I could tell her the truth and that she would see how much I loved her and in turn she would do her duty as a non-pureblood and fall madly in love with me. I dreamt about bending her over a table and slapping my manhood against the milky white flesh of her buttocks.”
Just when Harry thought it couldn’t get worse, Snape uttered sixteen disgusting words. On their own, these sixteen words were far from revolting. But strung together and said by Snape in reference to Harry’s mother was what made it truly horrible:
“I often imagine what Lily’s beautiful green eyes would look like framed with my white seed.”
Thankfully one of Harry’s limbs broke free of the paralyzing fear at that moment. And even more satisfying, it wasn’t his wand-arm. Instead, his right leg sprung up and kicked his heel directly into Snape’s groin. It was as if a part of Harry was subconsciously punishing Snape for thinking of his mother in such a disgusting manner.
If Snape had not been under the effects of a Body Bind, he would no doubt have ended up on the ground of the alley, curled up in a tight ball. Having been denied the privilege of doubling up into the fetal position, all the wizard could do was roll his eyes into his skull. A high pitch whine, like steam escaping from a kettle, sounded from Snape’s thin and crooked lips.
“Kick him again,”Hermione prayed in a small voice. Luna, still pressing her hands against her mouth, nodded her head passionately in agreement.
“I deserved that,”Snape groaned out, his voice still a note higher than normal. Harry took solace in the fact that the dirty pervert who stalked his mother even after her death was still under the effects of Veritaserum which meant that what he said was true and he did deserved to be kicked. Of course, even if Snape had not made this statement, Harry would’ve still felt justified in his actions.
For the next few minutes, Harry fought the urge to give into Hermione’s suggestion and beat Snape into a pulp; particularly around the groin region. Harry knew that he would feel better if Snape was bruised and bloodied; especially around the groin. He paced back and forth in front of the bound wizard, every now and again, Harry’s leg twitched, aching to kick the stalker, mainly around the crotch. But the disgusting perverted stalker was helping to bring down Voldemort. And since he was one of Voldemort’s trusted lieutenants, Harry could use him; not only to help find the missing Horcrux, but to gain relevant information on Voldemort and his followers. So, unfortunately, Harry came to conclusion not to beat Snape to within an inch (mainly on and around the groin region) of his life for the greater good.
After Harry canceled the Body Bind, Snape fell to his knees and vomited on the ground. While Snape tried to regain his composure, Harry asked Hermione to revive Ron.
Snape stood and locked eyes with Harry. Judging by his lack of a dazed expression, Harry assumed that the effects of the truth potion had worn off. There in the black pits of his eyes, Harry could see that Snape still loathed him, probably even more now that Harry knew his secrets. But underneath the abhorrence was a hint of compliance; Snape knew he had to team up with Harry in order to bring down Voldemort.
“I can assume you know the locations of the other Horcruxes through that… ritual?” Snape asked in an even tone.
“One of them yes,”Harry replied. “Slytherin’s locket is with a bloke named Zardoz. He lives at a place called Founders’ Cove.”
“I’m familiar with him,” the elder wizard stated.
“I know about Voldemort, but he’s under the Fidelius and I can’t track him down,” continued Harry. “There is one other Horcrux, but I can’t find it for some reason.”
The potion master became lost in thought for a moment. Then, after some silent consideration, Snape spoke “I will deal with Zardoz.”
“We can do it!”snapped Harry; offended that Snape didn’t think he could get the Horcrux away from its current owner.
“I can retrieve the item with subtlety and tack,” Snape said contentiously.
“And we can’t?”Hermione heatedly returned.
“Did you not notice that you left a fifty foot corpse of a mutilated Basilisk back in that chamber?”Snape asked rhetorically. “Because if you consider that to be tactful or subtle then you have more to learn than Ihad thought.
“What were you planning on doing? Asking Zardoz to hand the locket over? From what I’ve heard about the man tells me that he would never part with such a prized possession,” Snape jeered. “I can take the Horcruxright out from under his nose and Zardoz would never know.”
“You won’t hurt him will you?” asked Harry. He hated to admit it, but Snape was a damn good spy and could probably do what he had just boasted. And if Snape was able to deal with Zardoz and the locket, it would be a weight off of Harry’s shoulders.
“Of course Iwon’t,” Snape replied angrily. “You and your girlfriend can busy yourselves with finding the missing Horcrux.”
Apparently satisfied that the conversation was over, Snape swirled his black robes around in a theatrical manner before Apparating away with acrack.
“What a wanker,” insulted Ron.
Referring to Snape as a “wanker” was clearly too much for Luna. With Ron’s comment, the blonde witch was obviously reminded about Snape’s revelation of masturbating habitually, causing Luna to lose control. With a loud gurgling and splashing sound, Luna emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of Ron. Her vomit splashed and flowed down his belly, groin, and legs, pooling around his feet and in his shoes.
“Um, did I miss something?” a bewildered Ron asked looking at the great globs of partially digested food and bile dribbling down his trousers.
“Just be thankful you did,” Harry said with a frown, trying to erase the memory of what Snape had said from his mind.
*
After cleaning up and returning to the castle, the four friends ate dinner. Actually, Ron ate all four of the dinners while Harry, Hermione, and Luna, having lost their appetites thanks to Snape, didn’t eat.
As Ron reached across the table to steal some food from Hermione’s plate, Harry looked across the Hall at a sixth-year Ravenclaw. The younger wizard smiled directly at Harry and gave him a thumbs-up signal. The nameless wizard then mouthed the words “Thanks, mate” (that or “Let’s date,” Harry was hoping for the former).
“What’s he on about?” asked Harry.
Glancing up from her now-barren plate, Hermione asked, “Who?”
“Some bloke over there,” he pointed in the Ravenclaw table’s general direction. “He just smiled at me and gave me a ‘thumbs up’. Like I did something to be proud of or something.”
“Everybody’s acting strange lately,” commented Hermione. “When we first walked in here, a couple of witches from Hufflepuff blushed and then winked at me.”
“It is the SpottedWollcock’s mating season,” Luna offered and left it at that, assuming that everyone knew what it implied.
Ignoring the peculiar actions of his peers as well as Luna’s bizarre explanation, Harry returned to watching Ron eat everyone’s dinner.
*
Thankfully, by the next day, the shock of Snape’s seemingly favorite hobby had worn off and Harry, Hermione, and Luna were able to eat once again. Of course even with their renewed appetites, Ron still nicked food off of their plates.
That night, as they were preparing for a quiet night in bed, Hermione broached a subject. She said; “That was very nice what you said about Molly: how you think of her as a mother. I’m sure she’d be tickled pink to hear that.”
“Yeah,” Harry said with a genuine smile. He imagined Mrs. Weasley gushing happily and pulling Harry into a rib-breaking hug.
“And I know that Ron isn’t very expressive, but I’m sure he’s proud that you look at him as abrother,” Hermione continued, slipping on her silk pajamas.
Then, an overly confused expression appeared on her face, she was undoubtedly forcing it for effect. Tapping her finger on her chin thoughtfully, Hermione turned to Harry, as he was tugging the bed sheets down to crawl into bed, and asked; “Tell me Harry; if Molly’s like a mother and Ron’s a brother, what does that make Ginny to you?”
“What are you getting at?” Harry asked, dubious of his girlfriend’s intentions.
“Well, Ginny is Molly’s daughter. And she’s Ron’s sister,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Since you look at those two as mother and brother… wouldn’t that make Ginny asister?”
A wicked, nay downright evil grin popped up on Hermione’s face.
“You snogged a girl who’s like asister,” she said devilishly. “And you felt her tits… devoid of any substance that most would consider breasts, but you felt up the flat-chested bintwho’s like a sister none the less!”
With an odd and uncharacteristic calmness, Harry waited for Hermione’s joke to end. Normally, Harry would’ve been revolted at such an issue. But a naughty thought of his own occurred to him and he was waiting for Hermione to finish so he could act upon it.
Clearly disappointed that Harry was not reacting like he normally did (i.e. screaming, turning green, and so on), Hermione decided to twist the proverbial knife to get a response out of him. “Not only is she like a sister, but she looks like your mother! Is incest really that appealing to you, Harry? It must be since Ginny, the girl you kissed and fondled, is the virtual epitome of incest for you.”
“Are you finished?” he asked coolly.
“You’re no fun,”she pouted, disappointed that Harry wasn’t nearly in tears.
Harry took his cue and leapt onto the bed. Deftly, he tumbled across the mattress, sat on the edge, and grabbed Hermione around her waist. Before she could even flinch, he tossed her over his lap and smacked her round bottom hard. Hermione yelped in a combination of pain, surprise and arousal.
“Bad, naughty little witch for toying with me like that,” Harry scolded and spanked her through her pajamas again.
“OW!” she half cried, half cheered.
“You shouldn’t mock me like that,” he said and tugged her pajama bottoms down, exposing her knickers-covered bum. Harry hooked his thumb under the left edge of her knickers and his index finger under the right. He pulled his fingers into a fist, causing the cotton unmentionables into a thin band. Next, Harry pulled on the band, wedging the fabric between Hermione’s round cheeks. The witch groaned out loudly as her knickers tugged against her sensitive flower.
“Naughty little witches like you need to be punished,” Harry said with a broad grin. “Don’t they?”
While still tugging her knickers up, Harry used his free hand and slapped her bare right cheek.
“I asked the naughty little witch a question,” Harry said. “Don’t bad little witches like you need to be punished?”
“Oh, hell yes,”she hissed out. “Spank my mischievous bottom.”
Harry proceeded to slap each cheek in turn with a rapid series of light smacks. While spanking one cheek, Harry watched entranced as the other jiggled from the blow.
Once the witch had a nice even pink hue to her skin, Harry increased the strength and speed of his blows. In no matter of time, Hermione was cheering; “OW! YES! OW! HARDER! OW! MORE!”
After a good full three minutes, Harry paused. He massaged her red and welt-covered bum while he spoke. “A naughty little witch who says vile things about her boyfriend needs to be punished. I should spank your bottom ’til you learn your lesson.”
“Oh, Merlin, yes,”she breathed out. “Please make me learn my lesson.”
He pulled her knickers, which were visibly damp from where they had rubbed against her flower, halfway down her thighs. Now that his hand wasn’t holding Hermione’s knickers in place, Harry was free to use both hands to paddle his lover’s bottom. Almost immediately, his hands fell into a rhythm. The instant one hand left her skin, the other smacked her round bottom. He marveled at the sight of her glowing bum as it bounced and jiggled wildly due to the blows. It looked like the sea during a storm.
Hermione was so excited that she was hissing short, rapid breaths in and out through gritted teeth. Also, Harry could feel her love juices trickling down his leg and staining the sheets.
A few minutes later, Hermione’s bottom took on the appearance of a smooth, polished, and very red ruby.
“Oh, God, Harry; Iwant you,” she groaned out. Her voice was husky with lust.
Even though ‘Harry, Jr.’ was more than willing to take the task, the organ was painfully hard, Harry wanted to toy with Hermione a bit longer.
“Naughty little witches often don’t get what they want,” he said with mirth.
“WHAT?” Hermione’s head snapped back and she stared daggers at him for his defiance.
Looking directly at her spiteful stare with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, Harry gave Hermione another painful spank. Her face lit up and her mean expression turned into a begging one in the blink of an eye.
“Please,” she said pitifully. “I need you.”
“Oh, no, you hurt me with your words and I’m still mad at you,” he said evenly. “And since you’re being punished,” he spanked her. “I think I won’t give in.”
Tears of frustration practically flowed from Hermione’s brown-green eyes. They grew wide with desire and need. It gave her a desperate look. Harry found himself loving the sense of temporary power her desperation gave him.
Harry remembered that he had been originally put off by Courtney’s suggestion about taking control every once in a while. But now that he had Hermione begging him for a shag, he made amental note to properly thank the Auror trainee.
“Damn it, Harry, take me right now!” Hermione demanded desperately.
“Um…” Harry paused and pretended to mull over her request. “No,” he said curtly and slapped her bright red bum.
Hermione shouted arather naughty word in disappointment.
“Such harsh language,” reprimanded Harry, and gave her another swat which caused her to curse again. With another spank, Hermione buried her face in the bed sheets and growled loudly.
“Oh, my poor bad little witch,” Harry playfully mocked as he gently rubbed her sore backside. “She’s all dripping. My bad witch wants it bad. Doesn’t she?”
Even though he could not see her face, Harry was positive that Hermione was rolling her eyes with annoyance at this question. With achuckle in his voice, he repeated the question. “The naughty little witch wants it, doesn’t she?”
To punctuate the fact that he wanted her to answer, Harry gave Hermione’s left bum-cheek astrong squeeze.
“Oh, yes give it to me,” Hermione said in a passionless voice. “Make me scream. Cum inside me. Blah. Blah. Blah.”
As punishment for not playing along, Harry gave her bottom three hard swats.
“Oh, yes! Give it to me!” Hermione cried out, this time, very passionately.
Smiling like the cat that ate the canary, Harry said “No.”
“Har-r-ry,” Hermione moaned pitifully. “Give it to me.”
“Okay,” Harry caved. “A little.”
“How are you going to give me ‘a little’?” she asked, once again looking over her shoulder.
“Like this,” he answered and slid his hand down between her glowing cheeks. He pushed his middle finger into her sopping folds.
“Oh,” she breathed out. “That’s how.”
While he stimulated Hermione with his fingers, Harry kept his other hand busy by spanking her bum at random intervals. A few minutes and a fairly loud orgasm later, a very satisfied Hermione gasped for breath on Harry’s lap. Wriggling her tummy against his erection, Hermione purred “We should take care of that.”
“That’s a good idea,” Harry agreed. “I’m up for a blow job.”
“My, aren’t we all demanding tonight,” she said with a wicked smile.
“There are better things to do with your mouth right now besides talking,” Harry stated impishly while pointing to the bulge in his pants.
“Okay, I’ll do it only if you keep talking to me like that,” she requested.
“Does my naughty little witch want to give ‘Harry, Jr.’ a tongue massage?” he asked.
“That’ll work,”Hermione said and slipped off of Harry’s lap. She moved slowly and gingerly because of her obviously sore bum. With a pleasant hiss, Hermione knelt between Harry’s knees.
While Hermione tugged down Harry’s trousers, he asked “Did you want me to talk dirty in something like a play by play? You know, something like ‘That’s it, free my willy and give it a kiss.'”
“Whatever you feel like saying, Harry,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Okay,” he smiled. “How about the naughty little witch giving me a squeeze…”
For the next few minutes, Hermione gave her lover a very energetic hummer. She seemed encouraged by Harry’s dirty comments, such as; “My, you look awfully pretty with that in your mouth” and”Do my balls feel good on your chin?” All the while, Hermione blushed furiously, clearly turned on by his efforts in dirty talk.
After he finished- and Hermione swallowed, Harry asked the heavens “What great deed did I do to get such a naughty witch as a present?”

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Six: Did Someone Mention Plural?
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-Six: Tempers flare and a shocking revelation or two… perhaps three.
“Lousy son of a bitch, I’ll kill him!” Those eight words had been repeated constantly by Hermione as she stomped down the hall. After Harry had told her the devastating news that Ron had been lending out the “instructional” Pensieve Memory that the pair had made, the brunette witch dug through Harry’s trunk, pulled out the Marauders’ Map, said the proper incantation, then promptly began chanting”Lousy son of a bitch, I’ll kill him!”
Harry followed Hermione to the Gryffindor Tower with a mixture of rage that equaled his lover’s, but also with a sense of disappointment. Ron had now betrayed his trust for the second time and it cut through Harry.
“We should humiliate him first,”Harry offered through gritted teeth. “We can alter that prank we pulled on Fred and George. You know the one that made them see through old witches’ clothes. We can change it so that every time he sees Luna naked, he’ll actually see that letch Snape wanking off. Oh, it’ll be great! I can imagine him now trying to be intimate with Luna and suddenly, he’s kissing that greasy bastard. Or even make him see Molly. Nah, Snape would be loads better.”
“No. Take too long,” Hermione growled. “Just kill the son of a bitch!”
When the couple reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, the painting asked “Password?”
“I’ll kill him!” Hermione spat. Pure rage flowed off of the witch.
The painting, obviously sensing that Hermione was not to be trifled with, swung open. Hermione led the charge into the Common Room and up to the very top floor of the tower, to where Ron and Luna’s marital room was located. Not even bothering to knock, Hermione threw open the door and barged into the married couple’s private room.
“Oh, hello, Harry, Hermione,” a very topless – and clearly comfortable in that state – Luna greeted. “Ronald and I were about to have sex. Would you care to watch or even join in?”
“I’ll kill him!” repeated Hermione.
“Now, Hermione, that wasn’t one of the options,” Luna said calmly as if it was quite common for Ron to get death threats. “Either group sex or voyeur; no violence. I really must insist.”
“Where is he?” Harry demanded, his tone barely concealing his anger.
“He’s getting ready for sex. We’re trying some role-playing exercises,”the blonde witch said, feeling completely natural talking about such things while having her sizable breasts exposed. “It will be very enjoyable. I’m playing the part of a street walker who lost her money and has to make up for such a transgression to her employer with sex.”
Just then, a visibly excited Ron came out of the loo wearing nothing but a very large purple silk hat with a vibrant peacock feather sticking out of the brim. “I’m your pimple daddy!” the red head called out in a loud voice, not noticing Harry and Hermione.
“It’s ‘Pimp Daddy,'” Hermione corrected before lunging at the mostly naked wizard while shouting, “I’ll kill you!”
Hermione and Ron crashed to the ground. Ron immediately began to thrash around in an attempt to get Hermione off, who was slapping him about the head and chest. The brunette witch was so enraged that she didn’t notice that Ron’s naked erection was brushing against the hem of her skirt.
Luna turned to Harry and looked at him with her big blue eyes before speaking in an easy but happy way; “It looks like Hermione has opted for group sex. That means we should go at it too, Harry. It’s only proper, don’t you agree? Obviously we should start with oral sex. Would you like me to lick your penis? Or would you prefer to go down on my muff?”
“What? No,” Harry blurted out. “This is serious!”
“So you want to bypass foreplay and jump straight into intercourse like Ronald and Hermione?” asked Luna sincerely. “I was hoping to sample some of your parsletongue magic. But if you insist; plunge your cock into my box.” She said this phrase without any passion; it was just a simple statement to her. The blonde witch sat on the bed and laid back, clearly waiting for Harry to mount her.
“No, no, this isn’t what you think,”Harry said and pulled Hermione off of Ron. He didn’t do this to save Ron from a thrashing, but to have Hermione protect him from Luna. Harry was deeply concerned that if he didn’t lie on top of Luna, the blonde witch would hop up and begin molesting him.
“Let me at him!” Hermione growled as Harry pulled her away from Ron. “I’ll kill him!”
“Wait, that wasn’t intercourse?”Luna asked, sitting up.
“What’s your problem?” Ron demanded as he stood. “Are you completely mental?”
“You’re dead!” Hermione growled, trying to tug herself free from Harry’s grasp.
“Why? What did I do?” Ron asked.
“Um, Ron, cover up,” requested Harry. The red haired wizard was still very ready for a proverbial “roll in the hay” with his wife, meaning that Ron was looking at Harry and Hermione with all three eyes. As stated before, erections are the type of things male friends shouldn’t share with each other.
Having clearly forgotten his state, Ron looked down and saw something looking back up at him. With a rapid and frantic motion, Ron swiped his large hat from his head and placed it over his groin. The wizard burned a fiery red in embarrassment.
In juxtaposition to her husband, Luna sat casually on the bed. The witch seemed completely natural having her enormous breasts exposed to the open air where everyone could see them.
“You’re dead!” Hermione snarled again.
“Why?” Ron repeated and took another step back.
“We found out, Ron,” Harry said, his voice tainted by the anger and disappointment that pierced his being.
“You’re dead!” Apparently Hermione was so angry that the knowledge of the English language she had retained had vanished save for those two words – well, three separate words if you count the contraction.
“What the hell did I do?” Ron asked frantically and took another step back away from his angry friends. He had put enough distance between himself and Harry and Hermione that Ron was now pressed up against the far wall.
This caused Luna, who was approximately halfway between the two groups, to pivot her body back and forth; turning her attention to whomever was speaking. Much like a spectator at a tennis match looking from one side to the other. Mind you, this caused her naked breasts to sway and swing similarly to two metronomes. A naked, big breasted metronome. Normally, if Ron had not been so concerned with his friends’ temper, he’d be transfixed with the swaying orbs. And Harry would probably do the same. Hell, so would Hermione.
“How many people have seen it?” Harry demanded.
“Seen what?” shot back Ron.
“Is that why everybody in the school keeps looking at me and Hermione so oddly?” Harry asked.
“What are you talking about?” the red head asked desperately.
“Have you lent it out to the whole fucking school?” Harry demanded.
“Mate, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ron defended.
During this interchange, Hermione had growled, barked, snarled, and shouted the words “You’re dead!” no less than six times. At one point, she had experimented and tried to kick at Ron despite the fact that he was a good four feet away from her.
“The Pensieve, Ron,” snapped Harry. “Everyone in the bloody school has seen the Pensieve Memory Hermione and I made for you.”
“What?” a shocked Ron asked.
“That’s not possible, Harry,” Luna said in a dreamy tone. In a cool and easy manner, Luna strolled to a bedside cabinet, pulled out her wand, incanted a ridiculously long incantation full with words that Harry swore weren’t words at all, and tapped her wand in several places all over the face of the cabinet, before opening it. The blonde reached in and pulled out a small box. She placed the box to her lips and whispered another incantation, this one much shorter, causing the box to pop open. Luna reached in and retrieved the glass vial that Harry had given them. “We keep it locked up,” she said simply.
“Bu- but Harry overheard some people talking about seeing it,” Hermione persisted, clearly confused.
“Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand them Harry?” Luna asked.
“No, they said our names,” he explained.
“Well, maybe you didn’t understand what they were talking about,” offered Ron. “Maybe they were talking about something else.”
“They were talking about how Hermione is a gusher,” added Harry.
Luna giggled and said, “More like ahosepipe. She’s like Cho doing ahandstand.”
“But how’d they see the Pensieve if you’ve kept it under lock?” Hermione moaned.
“Did you make more and lose one,”Ron suggested.
“How dumb do you think we are?”Hermione scoffed. “We’d never do such athing as make a spare and lose it.”
“Oh, so it had to be me,” Ron said with bitterness. “I’m a lummox and therefore had to betray my friends.”
“Ron that’s not-” began Harry.
“How could you two think I’d do that to you?” the red head asked, clearly hurt. “I learned my lesson back during the Tri Wizard. You two trusted me with that memory; I’d never let it out of my sight.”
With his shoulders slumped in dejection, Ron turned and sulked into the bathroom. As the door closed, Harry heard a muffled sob come from the bathroom.
“I think you two should leave,” Luna said, a small frown marring her face.
Hanging their heads, Harry and Hermione walked out of their friends’ room. They walked back to their chambers as each silently berated themselves for doubting Ron. Sure he wasn’t the brightest person in the world, and he was pigheaded and stubborn. But since his transgression at the beginning of their fourth year, where Ron assumed Harry had entered his name in the Goblet of Fire, Ron had been a loyal and true friend.
Harry felt even worse than Hermione. He was Ron’s best mate and shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. Harry should’ve realized that Ron would never betray his trust again. Even if he and Ron were lost in the woods for weeks and weeks, wandering aimlessly without food, Ron wouldn’t betray his friends.
The next morning, after spending asilent night together, Hermione stated in a soft and mournful voice; “We have to make it up to him.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed.
“But how?” she asked, admitting that she didn’t even have the slightest clue.
“That’s easy: food or sex. He’s a bloke; therefore, all he thinks about is sex. And he’s also Ron, which means his entire existence is centered on food,” offered Harry.
“Well, he’s got the sex covered with Luna,” Hermione said.
“So that leaves food,” concluded Harry. Taking Hermione’s hand in his, he guided her to the kitchens.
“Are we going to have the House Elves whip something up for him?” she asked.
“No, that’d be cheating,” he answered. “We were the ones who fouled up. We’re the ones who have to make reparation.”
“Do you know how to cook?”
“Kind of. I mean I know how to fry food,” he said with a shrug. “The Dursleys made me cook for them. But all they ever wanted was fried food. So I guess I can make him some fish and chips and loads of bacon. What about you?”
“I’ll bake a cake then,” Hermione said, her smile growing slightly less guilty.
“You can bake?”
“I haven’t before, but how difficult can it be. It’s just like Potion brewing: add ingredients, throw it in the oven, simple,” she said confidently.
The moment the two entered the castle’s kitchen, every single House Elf dropped what they were doing (which meant several dozen pots and pans crashed to the floor splashing their contents everywhere) and bowed to Hermione.
“Oh, Great One, what do you be needing?” one elf bounded up to Hermione and then proceeded to kiss her feet.
“We need to make some food for afriend of ours,” Harry answered for Hermione who couldn’t do so for herself because she was trying to explain to the little creature not to kiss her feet.
“What do’s you’swants us to be fixing for you’s friend?” another elf asked while trying to kiss the hem of Hermione’s robes.
“Actually, we decided that we’d be the ones cooking,” Harry said.
The collective gasp from the House Elves was almost enough to create a vacuum in the kitchen. Every single elf drew in a deep breath of shock at the same instant. So much air was inhaled that Harry felt his hair move.
No one spoke or even moved for six whole seconds. It was dead silent in the kitchen for that time. Then the wailing started. The screams and cries of the House Elves echoed off the walls of the kitchen. Several elves who were weeping hysterically were huddled in one corner; they were curled up into tight little balls, desperately clutching their knees to their chests. Another set of elves were placing their hands into the flames of the stoves; the smell of burning flesh quickly filled the air. And at least twenty were slamming their heads repeatedly against the walls. Harry felt it was safe to assume that the elves didn’t take too kindly to the idea of “The Great One” preparing food by herself.
“PLEASE STOP!” a very mortified Hermione cried out. And the elves did. In fact the elves stopped completely. Some were frozen in mid-sob, others had their heads pressed firmly against the walls, and a few had their hands still in the flames. “You there,” Hermione pointed to the ones who were cooking their limbs. “Pull your hands out. That’s it. Now put out the fires. That’s good.”
Hermione took a calming breath and said, “All I want to do is bake something for a friend of mine.”
And as if by some primal instinct, the elves began to abuse themselves once more.
“STOP IT!” she screamed again. Hermione looked to Harry with pleading eyes. Clearly she had just wanted to explain the situation to the elves, but she didn’t know how.
Harry thought for a moment, and then, somewhat hesitantly, he tried to explain what was going on in a way that the House Elves would understand.
“The Great One… ah… just wants to experience your suffering… by baking a cake.”
“No’s,” two dozen elves cried out.
“The Great One dobe better than that,” another shouted.
“But she wants to do this,” Harry pressed. “That way, the Great One will be even closer to you. She will, um, know your pain. The Great One will understand you all the more.”
The elves looked to each other. A moment later, a few of them nodded their heads, albeit reluctantly. Some of them still had tears flowing freely from their bulbous eyes.
Even though Harry and Hermione had convinced the elves that they would do this on their own, the elves still helped. Every time the couple needed an ingredient, at least four House Elves would dash to fetch the item.
Once, Harry had to pause in his frying to stop a House Elf who had not accepted the notion of The Great One baking. The little creature had gotten alength of rope and fashioned a noose. Harry tugged the elf off of a stack of chairs where he was trying to hang himself.
While they worked, Harry noticed that a number of the House Elves were staring at him and Hermione. Unlike the other House Elves who were watching how the couple was cooking intently, this group had their eyes fixed on Harry’s and Hermione’s crotches. These elves had an odd look in their eyes, sort of like a look of admiration mixed with longing.
“Looks like some others have seen our Pensieve,” Harry said and pointed at the odd group.
“Bloody hell,” Hermione cursed. “We should just start distributing them ourselves at this rate.”
“Hey, we could charge a viewing fee,”offered Harry lightly. “At least that way we could earn some money.”
“Or we could write a book,” Hermione said with a bemused smile. “You know, update our ‘special book.’ I’ve always wanted to write a book.”
“We’ll become filthy rich,” stated Harry. They both laughed at such aludicrous notion.
A few hours later, the couple was done with their tasks. Harry had several stacks of chips, fried fish, and rashers of bacon. Hermione proudly held up her single layer chocolate cake… which promptly started to make a hissing sound. A large chasm formed on top of the cake and black smoke billowed out of the gash. Like a deflating tire, the cake slowly and noisily collapsed in on itself.
With Hermione’s right eye twitching in annoyance, Harry whispered in her ear “I guess baking isn’t as simple as potion brewing.”
“I-I can’t give this to him,” she moaned.
“You could have the House Elves make something for you and just tell Ron you made it,” offered Harry. “I know I said it was cheating, but at least we gave it a try.”
“I couldn’t do that,” she said firmly. “It would be wrong. I’ll just give it another attempt and bake asecond cake. It can’t be that hard to make a cake.”
As Hermione stirred and blended the proper ingredients once more, she openly bragged about how she had learned from her previous mistakes. She smiled broadly, confident that this time her creation would be perfect. The witch’s smile only faltered slightly when the cake hissed and split open once again, coughing black smoke into the air.
“You could have the House Elves make a cake for you and just tell Ron you made it,” repeated Harry.
All it took was a simple resigned nod from Hermione and the elves were off like a shot. Dozens of the little creatures began bolting back and forth from the cupboards to the stove. Within minutes of starting, the elves began to form a multilayer cake. In no time, they had completed nothing short of a confectionary masterpiece. It stood six feet tall, and nearly eight wide at the base. Each layer had a different frosting; chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, almond, and so on. On the second layer, dozens of small chocolate figurines of wizards and witches chased each other around the edge of the cake. A hundred sparklers stuck out in every direction on the top two layers.
“Wow,” Hermione said in awe. “Do you think Ron will believe I made this?”
“I don’t think he’ll care, really,”answered Harry. Knowing Ron, his red haired friend would probably go into sugar-shock just at the sight of the monumental cake.
“How do you think we’ll get it to him?” Harry asked.
“We’s can be delivering it anywhere’s The Great One wants,” one House Elf said joyously.
“That would be wonderful,” Hermione said sincerely. “Could you take this and the food Harry made to our friends, Ron and Luna, in about fifteen minutes?”
“We betaking the foods to Weezy and Weezy’sbig boobied missus in a few,” another elf confirmed.
Harry and Hermione made their way back to Ron and Luna’s room. As they walked, Hermione asked; “It’s only been a day, do you think Ron’s upset?”
“It’s not like Ron to hold grudges,”Harry replied.
“Are you delusional? Of course it’s like Ron to hold grudges,”Hermione countered hotly. “He’s petty and jealous to a fault. Don’t forget the Goblet of Fire fiasco; he didn’t talk to you for weeks. Which shows you how pig-headed he can get; you two shared all the same classes and slept in the same room and yet he didn’t talk to you.”
Thinking back to his earlier analogy about being lost in the woods with no food, Harry realized that it was quite possible for Ron to abandon him.
“I tell you he’s lucky to have such a forgiving friend like you,” Hermione continued.
“Well, I think the food will placate him a bit,” Harry said wondering what he’d do if the “Lost in a Forest and Ron Abandons Me” scenario ever came to be. More likely than not, Harry would forgive Ron, pretty much for the reasons Hermione had said; it was his nature. Then Harry came to realize how lucky Ron was to have him as a friend. No one else would put up with Ron’s flaws like he did.
When they got to the door, Harry knocked. Luna answered. Her ever-present smile had returned.
“Hello, Harry and Hermione, so nice of you to stop by. I told Ronald that I knew you would, but it’s still nice of you to do so. Otherwise, I’d look like a liar to my husband,” she greeted the couple easily as if she had not just asked them to leave the night before. “Won’t you come in?”
Harry and Hermione walked into the room like a pair of accused criminals waiting to be judged.
“I’ve been talking to Ronald,” Luna stated with her odd happy tone. “I explained to him why you thought he had lost the Pensieve Memory. There was a touch of logic to your accusations; you made only the one memory, and Ronald does have a tendency to foul things up. He’s still upset, but at least he understands.”
“We’d like to apologize,” offered Hermione.
“You do realize my Ronald can be abit pig-headed, don’t you?” Luna asked dreamily. “It’s one of his more enduring attributes, along with his insatiable virility. Even though he understands why you accused him, he is still upset, like I said. Unfortunately you’re going to have to do more than just tell him you’re sorry.”
“We’ve got that covered,” said Harry.
“Good,” smiled Luna. “I do wish that Ronald would become a little more forgiving like you, Harry. Then, Ronald would be utterly perfect in every way. But then again, I find perfection rather dull, so maybe I shouldn’t wish for such a thing.”
The blonde witch turned and called out to the door leading to the bathroom. “Ronald, those guests I told you to expect are here now.”
“Tell them to go away,” he said loudly from behind the door. “I’m not ready to forgive them just yet.”
Luna turned to Harry and Hermione and explained, “I told you he’s stubborn.” She turned back to the door and said in a loud voice, “Ronald, we discussed this earlier. We are both becoming adults and therefore we must mature. Allowing your friends to apologize and then forgiving them is the mature thing to do, Ronald.”
“I don’t wanna,”the red head said petulantly.
“Ronald, I won’t swallow next time Igive you oral sex like I promised if you don’t come out here right this instant,” Luna said firmly.
The door opened and slowly, Ron stepped out of the bathroom. He stood close to the door and folded his arms in front of his chest defensively.
“Look, Ron, we’re sorry,” Harry said sincerely.
“Yes, it was wrong of us to accuse and attack you,” added Hermione. Harry wanted to point out that she alone attacked Ron and he had nothing to do with the assault. He had relatively kept his cool whereas Hermione was the one trying to draw blood, but now was not the time or place. Later, he’d hold this little tidbit over his lover’s head and perhaps get an apologetic blow job out of it.
All throughout Harry’s and Hermione’s apology, Ron’s face was a stone mask of disappointment. Harry got the distinct impression that Ron had been practicing this expression in front of the mirror for some time.
“We should’ve trusted you, mate,”Harry offered.
Despite their sincere apology, Ron’s face remained unchanged. It was clear that he had no intention of making this easy for Harry and Hermione.
With a loud pop, piles of fried bacon, chips and battered cod materialized before the red haired wizard. Instantaneously, a smile cracked Ron’s expression at the sight of the piles of fried food. His stern demeanor vanished completely, replaced by that of total joy, when the monumental cake popped into existence.
Harry watched in stunned amazement as Ron dove at the piles of food. The red head scooped up handfuls of fried fish with one hand while the other shoveled cake before shoving the food into his mouth. He turned to Harry and Hermione, and with bits of fried fish and chocolate cake tumbling out of his opening and closing maw, uttered; “Murf tea gukz!”
“He said ‘thank you,'” translated Luna happily. “And he accepts your apology.”
Happy that Ron was pleased while being simultaneously disgusted by the red head’s eating habits, Harry and Hermione left the room silently.
“I’m glad he’s not upset anymore,”Hermione said with a smile as she and Harry made their way back to their room.
“Yeah,” agreed Harry. Abruptly changing the subject to less Ron-filled issues, Harry broached a suggestion that Hermione had given the night before. “So, you’re curious about anal sex, huh?”
Looking at him wryly, Hermione teased “Oh, so you did hear me say that last night. I thought you were in too much shock to have comprehended.”
“Of course I did,” he returned as the couple turned another corner. “When a bloke’s witch says she wants to experiment, he listens. Even if I was under the effects of the Draught of the Living Death, I would’ve heard you.”
Hermione snorted a soft chuckle. “We will have to take it slow. You can’t just go barging in.”
“I didn’t take it slow last night and you seemed to like it,” he pointed out.
“That wasn’t the real thing, now was it?” the brunette countered. “It was just the sensation of it. We have to work up to the real act.”
“Gotcha,” he whispered. “Go slow.”
The young wizard was doing aterrible job of concealing his excitement. Any new way to pleasure his lover was a welcomed adventure. But skipping down the hall is not a proper thing for a seventeen year old wizard to do.
“Oi, you two,” the ever-gruff voice of Argus Filch, the school’s caretaker called out to Harry and Hermione. “The Headmistress wants to see you.”
“Do you know what for?” asked Hermione politely.
“I don’t know that, do I?” the bitter old man shot back. “If I did, Iwould’ve said the Headmistress wants to talk to you about the weather. But I didn’t, so you should’ve known I know nothing.”
The grumpy old man hobbled away grumbling, “Snot nosed kids always asking stupid questions. If it were up to me I’d have them all whipped.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Harry said disgustedly. He and Hermione were about to be intimate in a new way and this meeting with McGonagall was delaying it. The two made their way to the Headmistress’ office while Harry muttered on and on about “lousy effing timing.”
“Good evening, Professor,” Hermione politely greeted the older witch after walking into her office.
“Hi,” was all that Harry was able to say. He dared not attempt anything further because something along the lines of “MAKE THIS QUICK, DAMN IT! THERE’S SEX TO BE HAD!” might slip out.
“Thank you for coming,” McGonagall returned. There was a serious edge to her voice… well, more serious than the normal serious edge to her voice. “Please sit down.”
“What’s the matter, Professor?”Hermione asked picking up on the Headmistress’ more serious tone.
“Minister Pippin called today and informed me that a student is going to return to Hogwarts,” McGonagall said cryptically.
“You’re kidding, right?” Harry half pleaded.
“Who’s returning?” asked Hermione.
“If it was any other student returning, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t have called us up here,” Harry explained. “It’s Malfoy.”
“You’re kidding, right?” echoed Hermione.
“The Minister was quite insistent,”McGonagall said with a hint of a frown. “Mr. Malfoy is still under protective custody and the Ministry has decided that Hogwarts is the safest place for him. And that it would behoove him to continue his education at the same time.”
“Professor, I don’t have to remind you that Malfoy led a group of murderers into the castle last year, and because of his actions, Dumbledore was killed,” argued Harry.
Before McGonagall could reply, the magical portrait of Professor Dumbledore spoke up; “Everyone deserves a second chance, Harry.”
“Oh, I can see it now, sir: our kids will go to Hogwarts together and be best of friends,” Harry said bitterly. “Malfoy’s nothing more than a slimy bigot. He cheered when Slytherin’s Monster was petrifying Muggle-borns in our second year. In our fourth, he crowed over Cedric’s murder. And when Umbrigde was Headmistress, he abused and tormented his fellow students. Hell, he was happy over the notion of watching the toad woman torture me. Then, last year, he opened a doorway that allows a bunch of Death Eaters into the castle, several people are attacked and you got murdered.”
“Ah, but didn’t Mr. Malfoy redeem himself when he turned in several Death Eaters a few months back?” the painting asked insightfully.
“One right doesn’t necessarily correct a wrong, sir,” Hermione offered. “Especially when the wrongs outweigh the right.”
“The Minister told me that Draco was a changed man,” McGonagall stated. “And she reiterated ‘in several ways’ for some reason. They tell me that his nastier charms have all but vanished and now he’s a law abiding wizard.”
“Professor, you can’t let-” began Harry.
“I plan on speaking with Mr. Malfoy and his mother before I even consider letting him return,” McGonagall interrupted the young wizard. “After Ispeak with them, I will discus the matter further with you two as well as the staff. I called you here today to inform you of this.”
After a moment where Harry grumbled and glowered at no one in particular, Hermione took his hand and said; “Thank you Headmistress. We appreciate that you’ve included us in this decision.”
Harry muttered a goodbye and let his girlfriend lead him out of the office.
As they walked back to their room, Harry continued to grumble angrily.
“Bloody Malfoy. Should be chucked in Azkaban, not let back into Hogwarts.”
For nearly fifteen minutes, this was all that Harry did. His face had turned such a fiery red, that Hermione had grown concerned. Obviously, the brunette witch came to the conclusion that she needed to get Harry’s mind off of the upsetting subject.
“Harry, do you remember what we were discussing before we went to the Headmistress’ office?” she asked.
“No,” he mumbled. “Damn Malfoy.”
“We were talking about anal sex.”
It was like a bolt of lightning had come from the heavens and struck Harry, completely burned his worries concerning Draco Malfoy away. He snatched Hermione’s hand and announced “Let’s go!” before running down the hall.
The couple rounded a corner and slowed as they passed a group of sixth year boys. The younger students were involved in their conversation. Harry and Hermione slowed their pace because neither of them wanted to draw attention to themselves by bolting past.
As Harry and Hermione moved by, some of the group’s conversation was overheard.
“She swallows?” one whispered in near awe.
“Yeah, I guess that’s why they call her ‘Head Girl.'” another said with mirth.
“Did you see the one where she dressed up like a Muggle school girl?” another asked. “Pig-tails an’ all.”
“Isn’t that the one where he cums on her titties at the end?”
Hermione looked as if she was about to vomit. She had turned as white as asheet and her eyes were wide with fear and shock. Worried that she was about to collapse, Harry wound his arm around her midsection and supported her. As quickly and as quietly as he could, Harry half-carried half-led Hermione away from the group.
“They’ve seen more?” she breathed out once they were far enough away. “More than just the one Ron and Luna had?”
“Oh, that’s why one of the kids Ioverheard last night said Pensieves and not Pensieve,” pondered Harry. “They were talking about more than one.”
“How the hell can there be more than one?” demanded Hermione frantically.
Harry opened the door to their chamber and said the only thing that made sense. “Somebody must be spying on us and they’re handing out Pensieve Memories for some reason.”
With her hands trembling, Hermione gripped the front of Harry’s robes and began to cry. “Someone’s watching us? And they’re handing out Pensieves of it? Oh, that’s horrible.”
Harry held her close, trying, in vain, to comfort her. It was a dreadful situation; apparently, a number of the times they had been intimate together have now been seen by a large number of the student body. Harry himself was concerned over the situation, but not nearly at Hermione’s level. The poor witch looked as if she was about to have a nervous breakdown.
“We can’t have sex until we find out who’s doing this,” Hermione announced between hiccups. “None at all.”
Now Harry’s level of concern exceeded Hermione’s. The brunette witch had just been eager to be buggered. But now because of this revelation, she was abstaining from any sex… including anal! This damn pervert was halting Harry’s love life. And Harry swore to himself that he’d make the pervert suffer!
Pulling away from Hermione, Harry moved to his trunk.
“What are you doing, Harry?” asked Hermione as he rifled through the contents of his trunk.
“Finding myself a pervert,” he answered and pulled up the Marauders’ Map. He tapped his wand to the old parchment and incanted, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”
He turned to Hermione and said “You’d better stay here,” before walking out of the room. Quickly he scanned the map until he found his target.
The dot labeled “Dennis Creevey”showed that the younger boy was in his dorm room in the Gryffindor Tower. The dot was also hovering over a dot labeled Padma Patil. Harry dashed to the tower with every intention of questioning the younger wizard as to where he had gotten the Pensieve from. When he reached the Fat Lady, he quickly checked the Marauders’ Map to find the password, which he gave and ran up the stairs, pushing pass the students in the Common Room.
The door to Dennis’ dorm had a neck tie hanging from the doorknob which is the universal sign for “Two people having sex inside. Piss off!” That, or if the wizard didn’t have a witch, it meant “Some bloke is masturbating in here. You don’t want to see that, so move along.” Harry was about to ignore the “neck-tie warning” and barge in when a pair of third year boys stumbled out of the dorm opposite Dennis’ door.
“Damn it, it’s just our luck,” a sandy haired boy complained, not noticing Harry. “Effingpest – taking our turn.”
“Yeah, we finally get a chance to see Granger and Pot… err, shit” it was at this point the other boy noticed Harry. “Hi, Harry,” he squeaked nervously.
“Oh, bollocks,” the first cursed. It was clear that the boys thought Harry was about to hex the both of them.
Harry pushed passed the boys and made his way to the third years’ room. Obviously, the boys were talking about watching one of those damned Pensieve Memories. The raven haired wizard realized that he didn’t need to ask Dennis where he had gotten the Pensieve from, not when Harry could enter the magical memory and find out himself. As he opened the door to the disgruntled boys’ room, Harry mentally reviewed his impromptu plan; he would push whoever was watching the Pensieve out of his way, then enter the magical memory and explore it. Harry figured he’d have no problem viewing a memory; he already had loads of experience with both Dumbledore’s and Snape’s Pensieves.
But Harry forgot all about his plan the moment he saw the person leaning over the Pensievebasin.
“My, she’s a flexible minx,” the figure commented, the voice dripping with lust. “That’s my boy, Harry; give her arse a good swat.”
“I should’ve known,” Harry growled. The pervert, the unseen letch who had spied on Harry and Hermione, was standing right in front of Harry with his nose in the Pensieve, watching it.
With righteous fury flowing through his veins, Harry whipped out his wand and sent a Blasting Hex at the stone basin. The bowl shattered into a million pieces causing the silvery liquid of the Pensieve Memory to be splattered on the wall.
As the figure stood and faced Harry, the bespectacled wizard threatened, “You’re lucky I can’t perform the Cruciatus Curse properly or else you’d be screaming in pain right about now, Gryffindor!”

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Five: Dim-witted Theories and Troubles Abound
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-Five: The Talk of the Castle.
The next night, Harry and Hermione were alone in their Head Students’ quarters, reading quietly. Harry was going over his notes for Transfiguration, while Hermione read from their ‘special book.’ Every once in a while, the brunette witch had to readjust the squashy pillow she was using as a seat cushion. Despite a heaping dosage of Bruise Be Gone ointment and ample massaging from Harry, her bottom was still quite red and sore from the previous night’s spankings. Harry would’ve felt bad over Hermione’s discomfort, if the witch didn’t have a persistent satisfied grin etched on her face. She definitely was one kinky woman.
A soft knocking drew the teens’ attention to the door. Harry set his notes aside and went to see who was calling. The wizard was surprised to see Ginny, who had obviously been crying quite a bit judging by her red and puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, standing in the hallway.
“Am I… am I interrupting?” she asked meekly and sniffled.
Genuinely concerned over Ginny’s condition, Harry ushered her in.
“Ginny, are you alright?” Hermione asked from the couch.
“No,” the red head sniffled again.
Hermione patted a spot close to her on the couch, indicating that Ginny should sit next to her. But instead of sitting, Ginny dove and threw her arms around Hermione’s neck. The younger witch openly sobbed into Hermione’s shoulder.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” cooed Hermione and she began rubbing the red head’s back. Harry joined the witches on the couch and placed a comforting hand on Ginny’s shoulder.
After a few minutes, Ginny calmed. Hiccupping, the red head pulled away from Hermione and leaned against the back of the couch.
“I’m in so much trouble,” the young witch bemoaned.
“Why? What happened, Ginny?” asked Harry. The red head’s lip quivered pathetically and Harry reassured “You can tell us, we’re your friends.”
“And Harry’s practically a brother, to boot,” Hermione said while looking directly at Harry, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Harry rolled his eyes; he couldn’t believe that his lover was asking for another paddling.
“I’m pregnant,” Ginny cried as her tears splashed down her face.
“Oh, Ginny,” Hermione said mournfully, her mischievous sparkle disappearing instantly.
Harry just put his arm around Ginny’s shoulders. He wanted to say something comforting, but the only thing he could think of to say was “I’ll miss you after your mum murders you,” but that was tactless so he kept quiet.
“Didn’t you use protection?” asked Hermione.
“Yes, all the time. I’ve always used the Inaedifico Charm,” Ginny said between sobs.
“What’s the Inaedifico Charm?” Harry asked Hermione over Ginny’s head.
“It’s a semen repellant,” the brunette explained. “It’s a spell that creates a barrier. Basically a witch uses the charm to keep any semen from reaching the cervix and therefore the womb. It’s very effective and simple to do. And it lasts three weeks with each casting. That’s why I use it.
“Are you sure you didn’t forget to recast it?” Hermione asked the crying witch.
“No, to be safe I recast it every two weeks,” she answered. “It’s Neville, he’s too big.”
“Honey, the size of Neville’s penis doesn’t mean he’s extra fertile,” Hermione said. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how fertile the wizard is, the Inaedifico Charm would work. It’s a very reliable contraceptive.”
“I know that. I’m talking about Neville’s length,” Ginny said, wiping away the tears from her eyes. “He’s so big, he bypasses the charm. The head of his willy actually pushes through my cervix. When we have sex, he cums right in my womb.”
“Pushes through your cervix?” Hermione echoed; her face a mixture of surprise and anguish. “Ow.”
“Oh, you get used to it after four or five times,” dismissed Ginny.
“Ow,” repeated Hermione. She had her hands clutched on the lower part of her belly in phantom pain. “Ow.”
“I need help,” implored Ginny. “What am I supposed to do? I’m scared.”
“Does Neville know?” asked Harry.
“No,” the red head said.
“And your parents don’t know?” Hermione asked.
“Of course not,” Ginny replied. “Do you think I’m mad? What should I do?”
“Well, Neville needs to know,” stated Harry. He imagined that if he were in Neville’s shoes, he’d want to know.
“And your parents should be told as well” added Hermione.
“You’re mad!” Ginny said, staring with terror filled eyes at Hermione. “Sure, I’ll tell Nev. But my parents? You’re barmy to think I’m going to tell my folks.”
“Ginny, they’re going to find out sooner or later,” Hermione explained. “I think it’ll be for the best if it’s sooner rather than later.”
Ginny turned the wizard and with a pleading expression, she begged “Harry, you’ll tell them for me, won’t you?”
“You think I’m suicidal or something?” he asked. “Because the moment I say the words ‘Ginny’s pregnant’ they’ll kill me.”
“But you’re not the father, they won’t get mad at you,” the red head pointed out.
“Won’t matter,” argued Harry. “All they’ll see is a bloke saying something about their princess being knocked up and they’ll kill me. I imagine it’s like an automatic response for parents.”
“But they love you,” Ginny urged.
“No, I’m with Harry on this. Either you by yourself or with Neville should tell your parents,” Hermione stated. She then added under her breath, “Cervix – ow!’
“Oh, God,” Ginny cried into her hands. “I’m dead! I’m dead! I’m dead!”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Gin-Gin,” Harry said in a calm and soothing voice. “Sure your folks’ll be mad, at first. But you’re their little girl and they love you. Hell, it’s obvious they love babies too, otherwise they wouldn’t have had so many.” With this point, Ginny’s head snapped up and she looked at Harry as if he was brilliant. Encouraged by Ginny’s expression, Harry forged ahead. “I’m sure that once the baby is born, your mum and dad will forget all about this. They’d probably love the idea about being grandparents once they hold the little tyke for the first time.”
“You’re right Harry,” Ginny cheered with a genuine smile. “I’ll hide my pregnancy! And after I give birth, I’ll surprise Mum and Dad with the baby!”
“That’s not what I said,” Harry shot back.
“It won’t work,” added Hermione.
“Yes it will!” Ginny said gleefully. “I’ll just use some glamour charms to hide any bumps or whatnot and my parents will be none the wiser.”
“Ginny, please stop and think about this,” prayed Hermione.
“It’s brilliant,” Ginny said with sparkling eyes and a dazzling smile. “And once the baby is born, I’ll show it to Mum and Dad and they’ll love it just like you said, Harry!”
The red head bounced up from the couch and twirled happily as Harry tried to defend himself. “But I didn’t…”
“Thanks Harry, you’re a lifesaver!” Ginny congratulated before prancing out of the Head Boy and Girl’s chamber.
“Oh, this will not end well,” Hermione breathed out.
“Somehow, I think this will come back and bite me on the arse,” Harry pondered.
*
The next day at lunch, Harry, Hermione, and Ron leaned in close to Luna, as she was telling the trio the latest odd happening in the castle:
“Dennis Creevey is with Padma Patil?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I thought he was gay.”
“No, his brother is the one who’s gay,” corrected Luna. “Dennis was just helping Colin hook up with you, which is a very lovely thing to do for one’s own sibling.”
“How did a bloke like Dennis get together with Padma?” inquired Ron as he wolfed down another helping of shepherd’s pie. “I mean he’s three years younger than her. And she’s hot while he’s goofy looking.”
“I saw it with my own two eyes,” Luna said conversationally. “They were both getting dress as they stumbled out into the hallway. They saw me, giggled and kissed rather passionately before going their separate ways.”
“Maybe it was something else,” Hermione offered. She too had trouble wrapping her mind around the concept of Dennis and Padma together. “Maybe she was giving him a tutoring session and the kiss was innocent.”
“Possible, but I doubt it. It was a tongue kiss, after all. Pink organs fighting for dominance in one another’s mouth, and all that,” explained Luna. “And when I said that they were getting dressed, I meant that Padma’s left breast was exposed. She has lovely skin by the way; blemish-free and very soft looking. And as they parted, Padma gave Dennis’ groin a good squeeze. He still had an erection; I could see the outline of his crown and shaft pressing against the fabric of his trousers. Oh, he also smelled like sex when he passed me. But maybe you’re right and it was innocent.”
“Maybe it was a very good tutoring session,” Harry feebly defended Hermione’s speculation.
“Oh, and speaking about sex, Ronald and I finally broke our dry spell,” Luna said happily.
“You had a dry spell?” Harry asked… and instantly regretted it. The blonde witch had a tendency to be a little too open about such topics.
“Yes, ever since Snape’s admission of masturbating constantly,” Luna paused and shivered in disgust. “Please don’t misunderstand; I happen to think masturbation is a lovely act. Just last week, I watched Ronald pleasure himself for me.”
“Luna, they don’t need to know,” Ron said in embarrassment.
“It was a beautiful and loving moment,” Luna continued despite Ron’s objections. “But Snape is nothing more than a disgusting and foul man. The mere idea of him having sex, even a solo act, is just as disgusting as the greasy git himself. That excuse for a man defiled a beautiful deed for me with his hateful tale.”
Harry did his best to try and block any unwanted images of Snape out of his mind.
“So for the past few days I haven’t been able to even think about sex,” Luna said. “Every time I tried to be intimate with my husband, I could only see an image of that foul man with his penis in his hand. Drooling while abusing himself like some deranged madman.”
Harry eyed the fork in his hand and pondered over the notion of jabbing the utensil into his eye and shoving it into his brain. He was beginning to warm up to the idea that he could use the fork to lobotomize himself in order to remove the image that Luna had just created.
“But last night, I was finally able to overcome the horror that Snape had created, and my Ronald and I made love,” Luna beamed at her husband. “First he took me on the couch, then the bed, and a desk. And then I was able to fulfill Ronald’s heartfelt wishes.”
The blonde witch held up her fore and middle fingers and wriggled them proudly.
“Oh, look at the time, class is starting,” Hermione said and shot up, clearly disturbed by what Luna was describing. She grabbed Harry, who was beyond shocked at Luna’s gesture, by the hand and dragged him out of the seat.
“Lessons don’t start for another quarter hour, Hermione,” said Luna while still wriggling her fingers like two burrowing worms. At this moment, Ron had his face hidden behind his hands, deeply embarrassed. Harry meanwhile was still clutching the fork and seriously debating the lobotomy option.
“Well, then we… uh…it’s Head Boy and Girl stuff,” Hermione said nervously. “Harry and I have to do… things,” she finished lamely and dashed out of the Great Hall with Harry in tow.
*
By dinner that evening, the news of Dennis’ and Padma’s relationship had spread like wildfire. Not that Harry, Hermione, Ron, or Luna had talked about it, which they didn’t. It was the fact that Dennis had gone down on Padma after lessons were done for the day. Of course what made it widely known was that the two did this by the lake where they had attracted a good sized crowd that allegedly cheered the couple on.
Now that their relationship wasn’t a secret (nor had they apparently wanted it to remain a secret seeing the public sex and all), Padma and Dennis sat next to each other, feeding each other bits of food as they looked longingly into their partner’s eyes.
Then, something occurred to Harry, as he looked over the students gathered in the Great Hall. He noticed that a number of the student body were paired up, much more so than usual. Dean Thomas was with Mandy Brocklehurst. Tracy Davis was in Terry Boot’s lap. Megan Jones was kissing Theodore Nott. And dozens of other couples were scattered through the Hall.
Harry eyed his pumpkin juice. Had someone spiked it with a love potion or something? He was suddenly scared; Harry had stopped checking his own meals once the more aggressive House Elf sect had stopped punishing him with platefuls of steaming excrement for his sin of “deflowering the Great One.” However given the widespread impact, a love potion was the only feasible reason he could come up with to explain this current “love fest” that was gripping Hogwarts.
“Hey guys,” Ginny said as she walked into the Great Hall. She was supporting Neville who had just looked like he had thrown up several times. He was deathly pale and his eyes where wide and blank.
“What’s with Neville?” Ron asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Ginny said with a nervous dismissal. The red head witch looked at Harry and Hermione and slipped them a note. “C’mon sweetie, lets get you some food,” Ginny said to Neville and led him down to an empty spot.
Harry unfolded the note and held it so that only he and Hermione could read it. It read:
“I just told him. I think he’s taking it rather well.”
Harry looked down the table at Neville. The wizard looked close to fainting. If Ginny considered that “taking it rather well’ he wondered what Ginny considered taking it poorly.
“I still think Expelliarmus can defeat You Know Who,” Ron offered suddenly, pulling Harry away from his thoughts regarding love potions and accidental pregnancies (which, between Ginny and Tonks, had been happening quite a bit lately).
“Not again, Ron,” moaned Hermione.
“No, no, hear me out,” persisted Ron. “I’m not talking about a normal Expelliarmus, but one cast from a super wand.”
Harry looked to his girlfriend and asked, “Is there such a thing as a super wand?”
She shrugged and answered, “We just turned a bit of string into a pterodactyl in our last class, so I guess anything is possible.”
“Yes, they are true. I’ve heard that Dumbledore had one,” Ron stated. “How else do you think he was able to do such wonderful stuff? Because he had a super wand, that’s how!”
“Actually, I think he could do those things because he was talented and studied hard,” Hermione challenged.
Harry saw Ron lean forward with his face beginning to turn an angry red and Hermione was copying his actions. The two were evidently ready for yet another heated argument.
“Okay, let’s just say Dumbledore had a super wand,” Harry speculated, trying to stem the fight that was about to ensue between Ron and Hermione. “How did he get it?”
“Easy; when he beat Grindelwald,” Ron answered in a haughty tone, as if he was proud that he knew something Hermione didn’t. “Grindelwald’s wand was called the Senior Wand, or something like that, and when Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald back in ‘45, the wand was passed to Dumbledore.”
“Um that really doesn’t make sense, Ron,” Harry said in as kind of way as possible as to not anger his excitable friend. “Back in fifth year, when we took our OWLs, we met someone who tested Dumbledore in his NEWTs when the Headmaster was a student. He said that Dumbledore was able to do wondrous things that he had ever seen. And that would have been decades before he defeated Grindelwald. Which means that Hermione was right, Dumbledore didn’t have a super wand, he was just skilled and talented.”
“Yeah, he may have wowed that bloke, but I heard Dumbledore got a super wand off of Grindelwald and that’s why he was so powerful,” Ron insisted. Knowing that Ron would not stop until he was finished, even if his reasoning and logic were flawed, Harry let his friend continue.
“I also heard that when you defeat someone and disarm them that they can no longer use their own wand because it belongs to you now,” Ron continued with his wild theory. Harry could feel Hermione about to protest, but he squeezed her hand, urging her to let Ron say his peace. “And that’s what happened with the Senior Wand; Dumbledore was able to beat Grindelwald thereby rendering the super wand useless to Grindelwald and making it his own.”
“So what you’re saying is that I should dig up Dumbledore and snatch his wand, this Senior Wand?” Harry asked tentatively.
“Yes, but first you’d have to duel and defeat Draco,” Ron clarified… if one could call it clarification.
“Why Draco?” asked Harry. And trying his best to lower himself to Ron’s argument, the raven haired wizard countered, “Why not Snape? He was the one who killed Dumbledore.”
“You see, that’s where you misunderstand the logic of it all,” Ron said with a superior grin. Harry had to bite his tongue and not say something about howler monkeys and logic. “Snape killed Dumbledore in order to save Draco from becoming a murderer. Therefore, Draco was the one who defeated Dumbledore, not Snape.”
Harry felt the tinge of an approaching migraine forming in his frontal lobe. He heard Hermione begin to mutter a question, but the brunette was so confused by Ron’s train of thought that all she was able to enunciate was “Wha?”
“So, let’s just march over to Malfoy, whoop his arse, then fetch the Senior Wand and you’ll be unstoppable Harry,” Ron concluded, seeming as if he was congratulating himself for a splendid argument.
“Ron, your theory is flawed in one area,” began Hermione, recovering from her befuddlement.
“And what area is that?” the red head asked confident that he could challenge Hermione.
“It’s stupid,” she concluded.
“What do you mean it’s stupid?” Ron demanded with annoyance.
“If a person’s wand is rendered useless when he is defeated, how was Snape able to kill Dumbledore? You, Harry, and I beat Snape in our third year; we knocked him out and disarmed him. So by your logic, his wand has been useless to him since then,” explained Hermione. “Therefore Snape couldn’t have used his wand to kill Dumbledore because he wouldn’t have been able to use it seeing that it is ours by right of conquest.”
“Also, your theory about the secession of the Senior Wand doesn’t work either,” Harry added in a compassionate way.
“How is that?” Ron asked with a frown.
“Well, you say that Draco is the current possessor of the Senior Wand because Snape killed Dumbledore in order to save the wanker,” Harry summarized. “But Snape was acting on Dumbledore’s direct orders; not only to save Malfoy from becoming a murderer but to end his own suffering. And since Snape was acting on Dumbledore’s orders, the greasy git was, in effect, Dumbledore’s tool. The idea of succession through defeat can’t apply here. Dumbledore was basically committing suicide, using the situation to try to redeem Malfoy for some reason and end his own suffering. Therefore he basically defeated himself. Not Snape and definitely not Malfoy.”
Luna placed a comforting hand on Ron’s shoulder and said soothingly, “Ronald, my love, next time you have one of these ideas, run it by me first so that you don’t sound like a fool, okay?”
Just as Ron nodded his head in compliance, another group of people walked up to Harry. This time it was Seamus Finnegan and he had one arm draped over Lavender Brown and the other around Parvati Patil. All three looked extremely pleased and each had a glistening sheen to their skin.
“Tanks, Har-ee, ‘or tha bes’,” Seamus slurred. He sounded as if his tongue had gone numb and was having difficulty speaking clearly. Despite this handicap, Seamus was grinning wildly. “Ree-min’ ‘e ta by ‘ou ah pressen’.”
With that, Lavender and Parvati giggled like school-girls – which, technically, they were – and dragged Seamus out of the Great Hall. Before they got too far, Harry heard the two witches interact:
“I get the top, you get the bottom.”
“But you got the top first last time. I want to go first.”
Hermione picked up her goblet and eyed the liquid contents “Did someone spike the pumpkin juice?” she asked, mirroring Harry’s earlier thought.
*
That night, in the safety of their chamber, where none of the weird activity of their peers could interrupt them, Harry and Hermione were again reading. Harry read a book on Quidditch while Hermione continued to read the Tantric rituals book. The bespectacled wizard liked it when Hermione read the ‘special book,’ as it usually meant they were going to try something exciting.
“This is a very interesting ritual,” Hermione commented as she read over a small section in Harry’s ‘special book.’
“What does it do?” the raven haired wizards asked, not looking up from his homework. He was trying not to lose his cool over the idea that Hermione had just found an interesting segment. What he wanted to do was shout “Let’s perform the ritual!” not really caring what it did, but that would make him look desperate. And a touch sad.
“It’s called the ‘Morgy Ritual.’ It can cause pain through magical connections, such as the Dark Mark,” Hermione summarized. “All we have to do is draw this channeling symbol, and then either write down the name of the magical connection, or draw a symbol of that connection, and then have sex.”
“So basically we’d draw the Dark Mark, indicating our targets are Death Eaters, and then have sex,” Harry recapped.
“Yes,” Hermione agreed. She continued to explain the ritual; “If we perform the ritual with ‘mild intensity’ it will cause the targets to feel a slight pain, something like a bad itch. But a heightened intensity will cause the targets incredible pain; akin to the sensation of being on fire.”
“So a tussle in the sack will make everyone baring the Dark Mark feel pain?” asked Harry.
“Yes.”
“And the more intense the sex, the more pain the Death Eaters will feel?”
“Um,” she paused and quickly rechecked the text. “Yes.”
“Well then, Miss Granger, prepare for several screaming orgasms,” Harry said and tugged his robes off in a manly fashion. In the process, the wizard managed to tear the clasp off of his robes. He would have to use a Stitching Charm to reattach it later. But at least the action looked manly.
A rosy bloom graced the witch’s cheeks in anticipation. Deftly, Hermione flicked the clasp on her robes open. Unlike Harry, she didn’t tear anything, meaning she wouldn’t have to waste her time sewing things like he would.
“Just how many screaming orgasms?” she asked while slowly unbuttoning her blouse.
“As many as it takes,” he replied and lowered his trousers. “This is for justice after all. Dealing out punishment to the wicked and whatnot is my duty.”
“Did you say ‘punishment to the wicked’?” Hermione asked coyly while still undoing her top. “Because my bottom is still a little sore. And even though I am ‘wicked’ and I like ‘punishment’ I think we should wait a while for another spanking.”
“Gotcha, no spankings,” Harry said and he began rapidly unbuttoning his shirt. He had decided not to do the manly thing and tear it open; he really didn’t like sewing. “I’ll just stick to using my parsletongue abilities.”
Harry dropped his underwear and stepped out of them while Hermione slowly opened her blouse. ‘Harry, Jr.’ grumbled about fair-play; here was Harry, completely naked, and Hermione still had her skirt and bra on. And, added to the penis’ ire, the ‘special book,’ lovely and wonderful as it was, was still on her lap. That meant it was blocking one of ‘Harry, Jr.’’s favorite entrances, damn it! Ignoring his appendage’s impatience, Harry continued to toy with his girlfriend. “How many climaxes do you think it’ll take to deal out punishment to the Death Eaters?”
“Like you said, as many as it takes,” she said, running her fingers over the edges of her cotton bra.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to do my best,” Harry boasted, hopping in place in eagerness. “I reckon that I’ll pleasure you so much that my tongue will be numb by the time I’m finished.”
Hermione bit her lip. Her blush deepened as she said, “You’ll be talking like Seamus then.”
“Sacrifices have to be made for justice. What’s a little numb tongue compared to punishing evil Death Eaters?”
With a gleeful expression, Hermione went to move the tantric magic book off of her lap. When her eyes fell on the text, the witch’s eyes grew wide and her joyful demeanor disappeared in a flash.
Recognizing that look, Harry asked “What is it?”
“I misread it,” Hermione practically whimpered. “It states we need more than two.”
“And I plan on giving you more than two,” Harry said with naked pride. “In fact, I plan on giving you so many that you lose consciousness. And I’ll probably continue to give you more when you’re asleep because I’m feeling frisky right now. It’s for justice after all.”
“No, Harry, not multiple orgasms, multiple partners,” Hermione corrected.
Harry blinked once. “Oh.”
He blinked again and asked, “By multiple you mean more than you and me?”
“Yes. To achieve the itching sensation in our targets I told you about, we would need a m?ge ?rois.”
“Manage a what?” asked a perplexed Harry.
“A threesome, Harry,” Hermione pointed out. “For a burning sensation akin to a bad rash, we would need four people. And for the target to feel utter pain, we would need at least six participants.”
“Oh,” Harry repeated. Causing pain to every marked Death Eater was appealing. Perhaps there was a way around it. “Maybe we can get Ron and Luna to join in,” he offered.
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, clearly offended.
“You know, Ron and Luna can use the spare room while we’re in ours,” explained Harry. “We’ll just put up some silencing charms so we don’t hear each other.”
“You misunderstand, Harry,” she replied. “By multiple partners, the book said we have to share in the ritual.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning once Ron and Luna, and then you and I had our go, we would need to swap partners,” Hermione said with thinly veiled annoyance. “Which means you’d have to have sex with Luna and…” she punctuated these next words as if they were the most important part of her argument; “…I would have to sleep with RON! EWW!”
“They’re our friends and I love them,” admitted Harry. “But I don’t ‘love them’ love them.”
“RON! EWW!”
“They may have seen us have sex through Pensieve memories,” Harry continued. “But this would be entirely different. And different in a bad way.”
“All that red hair.”
“I don’t mind sharing some things, but there is a point where sharing becomes too much.”
“It would be like shagging a circus clown.”
Harry looked at his lover. “He’s still our friend. We don’t need to be cruel.”
“Circus clown,” she stated factually. “He already has the orange-ish red hair and abnormally big feet. All he needs to finish the ensemble is a red-rubber nose.”
“You don’t seem all that upset over the notion of me sleeping with Luna in this little scenario,” Harry dared to point out, hoping that Hermione would take it for the joke that it was intended to be.
“Well she isn’t a clown like Ron, is she?” Hermione replied. “Besides, what would you do with those enormous tits of hers? Honestly? Each one is bigger than your head. You wouldn’t know what to do with them.”
“I’d use them as a pillow,” he said with a naughty smile. “A big, soft, warm pillow.”
“We could both use her breast as pillows,” Hermione snorted a laugh. “You sleep on the left one I’ll get the right.”
The couple shared a belly laugh at the thought. After a moment, Hermione became more serious. “It’s too bad though about the ritual. It would’ve been nice to make those lousy Death Eaters suffer.”
“Can’t we still do it?” asked Harry. “Just ourselves mind you. I mean with both of our power boost, we should be able to perform it.”
“No, in this case, the participants’ power level has no effect on the ritual,” Hermione said with a pout. “In fact, according to this, some of the people could even be squibs and the outcome would still be the same.”
“Shame that,” Harry said, trying to look like he was deeply disappointed. The curled up edges of his mouth ruined the affect. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to give you several screaming orgasms just for fun then, justice be damned.”
With that, Harry leapt on his lover and tore at her skirt. A few scant minutes later, the first of many “OH SWEET BABY MAEVE!” was heard.
*
Later that week, Harry had come up with a rather brilliant plan. He had decided to perform the Wit Enhancing ritual that Hermione had created and then, once he was recuperated, they would do the han – err – searching ritual. This was brilliant for two reasons; first, he believed that with the temporary boost in his intelligence, he’d be able to deduce where the missing Horcrux was hidden. And second, this plan was brilliant because it involved two different sex acts, which were always fun.
To prepare for the Wit Enhancing ritual, Hermione warmed up by stretching so that she could hold the awkward position needed for it. And Harry warmed up both himself and his lover for the ritual by kissing, licking, and suckling Hermione’s various bits. After shouting the proper incantation of “Maximus Intellegentia!” when his climax hit him, Harry felt the wave of magic pass through him. He knew that the ritual had increased his intelligence because as he waited for his stamina to return, he and Hermione speculated that the cooling weather this season would make the skins of Mandrakes particularly thick, making the plants overly bitter and angry.
An hour or two after performing the Wit Enhancing ritual, Harry and Hermione started the han – err – other ritual. A few seconds after Hermione began to massage Harry and while both teens chanted their separate incantations, they felt the now familiar sensations of their spirits leaving their bodies. Once again, astral-Harry and Hermione dove through the air and ended up in the darkness. Unfortunately, their increased intelligence shed little light on the darkness. In fact, while they hovered in the inky blackness, the two lovers discussed the esoteric ramifications of the color black and what it various meanings meant for mankind throughout the ages.
Despite the fact that they weren’t able to discern the location of the missing Horcrux, Harry suggested that they attempt the ritual again immediately upon returning to his body.
“You just want me to give you another hand-job,” Hermione said in a reproachable fashion.
“Yes,” he replied with all honestly. He then went on to lecture on the numerous health benefits of an active sex life.
*
A few days later, after the effects of the wit enhancing ritual wore off, Harry and Hermione made their way to their chambers after their lessons had ended for the day. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find Remus waiting for them in the Head Students’ common room.
“What’s up, Moony?” he asked as Hermione shut the door.
“I’m sorry to bother you two,” Remus said apologetically. “But something rather curious has come up.”
“What is it?” asked Hermione.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?” the older wizard asked sincerely.
“I’ve never really given it much thought,” Harry said.
“I’ve read some books on the subject,” offered Hermione.
“Well, prepare to be amazed,” Remus stated and he opened the door leading to Harry and Hermione’s room.
Slowly, little Sirius, Remus’ son, came out of the room. The infant didn’t crawl; in fact he walked upright, on two wobbly legs.
“He’s not supposed to do that,” Hermione said to Remus. “Sirius is too young to be able to even crawl, much less walk.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t be able to talk either,” the infant said in a squeaky voice.
“What the hell is going on?” Harry asked in shock as he stared at the talking infant.
“Harry, Hermione, I’m Sirius,” the baby stated.
“Yes, we know that,” Hermione said.
“No, not ‘Sirius, Remus’ son,’ I’m Sirius, Remus’ old lover and Harry’s godfather,” the baby corrected.
“You can’t be able to talk,” Hermione balked.
“Wait… Sirius was gay?” Harry asked in disbelief. “I thought he was a ladies’ man?”
“No, we only referred to your father in that way,” Remus pointed out. “Never once did we mention our sexuality to you, Harry. Not because we weren’t proud, but because we were private.”
“Wait, you’re gay?” Harry asked Remus again.
“The proper term is bisexual, but yes, I’m gay,” the older wizard answered. “Having a Metamorphmagus as a wife really does have its benefits, especially in the sack.”
“Hey, remember me,” the baby waved his chubby little arm to get everyone’s attention. “I’m the issue here, not the fact that Remus liked to slob knobs.”
“Crude as always,” Remus criticized, rolling his eyes in disapproval.
“I could remind a certain someone in this room that he used to particularly enjoy my crude language, especially when that certain someone and I were locked up in dark and cramped broom cupboards, but I won’t,” little Sirius commented. “We need to find out how this happened.”
“The baby is talking!” Hermione said in shocked disbelief while pointing at Sirius.
“Well, that’s the point. But, I’m not a baby, not really,” little Sirius said. “I’m Sirius Black. I went to school with Remus, James, Lily, Wormtail, and Snape. I fought in the first war as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, was betrayed by Wormtail, chucked in Azkaban, escaped, met you, Harry, went on the run, then got locked up in Grimmauld Place, fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. The next thing I know, I’m getting pushed out of my cousin’s womb. How’d this happen?”
“The baby is talking!” Hermione, still in shock, repeated.
“Hermione, I need your brains right now,” Remus said and it seemed to draw the brunette witch out of her stupor. “You’re one of the brightest people I know and I need you to figure out what happened.”
Clearly bolstered by Remus’ compliment, Hermione snapped to attention. “So, he’s Sirius?” she questioned.
“Yes, he has all of Sirius’ memories and experiences,” Remus summarized. “I don’t know if it was because of that ritual you and Harry tricked us into doing, or the fact that I’m a werewolf and Tonks’ is a Metamorphmagus. Or even a combination of different things that caused this.”
“Wait, wait,” Hermione demanded. “I read some cases of reincarnation. But I have never heard of one where the person has retained all of their memories from their past lives. It’s never happened.”
“Well, it happened to me, Hermione,” Sirius said.
“But it’s not possible,” she countered. “The cases I read stated that sometimes a few vague memories may remain, but nothing like what you’re describing. You must be mistaken. Surely you can’t be Sirius.”
A tiny, impish grin appeared on both Remus and the baby, as if they had been expecting Hermione’s comment. With his squeaky voice, little Sirius uttered “I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”
Harry paused a second before saying “Wait, I’ve heard that before. On the telly I think.”
Hermione turned and faced Harry. It was clear by her expression that she was about to ask him what he was talking about when realization suddenly dawned upon her. “Oh, you cheeky bastard!” Hermione cursed at Remus. She pointed an accusatory finger at the older wizard and loudly scolded again, “Cheeky bastard!”
“Shh, you’ll wake the baby,” Remus said between peals of laughter.
“Oh, yes, Hermione shouting will wake up the baby, not his father laughing like a baboon,” Tonks sarcastically commented as she walked out of Harry and Hermione’s room. Bundled in the pink haired witch’s arms was a smiling baby Sirius.
Harry’s eyes darted between the two copies of baby-Sirius. He asked, pointing to the baby in Tonks’ arms “If that’s Sirius, then who’s that?” and pointed at the one standing next to Remus.
“That’s Courtney, under polyjuice,” informed a still laughing Remus. “She begged to be part of a prank against the two of you. How could we refuse?”
“Can I sit down now?” Courtney said in the baby’s squeaky voice. “I haven’t any bloody kneecaps thanks to being an infant, and it hurts to stand.”
As the polyjuiced Auror plopped down on the ground, Harry shot a disbelieving look at Remus. “You brewed polyjuice, which takes a month to do, just to pull one of the oldest and most clich?jokes in the world?”
“Yes!” cheered Remus.
Obviously encouraged by his father’s laughter, the real Sirius began to chuckle. Well, actually, he made more of gurgling and spitting sounds, but you could tell that he was trying to laugh along with his dad. The cute sounds that the real baby-Sirius was making lightened Harry’s and Hermione’s moods.
“I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of brewing polyjuice just so you can prank us with the ‘Sirius-serious’ joke,” Hermione guffawed.
“If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” Remus said proudly.
“What I don’t get is the whole gay thing?” asked Harry.
“Adding elements of the truth in a prank always heightens the realism of it,” Remus responded.
“Wait, you really are gay?” Hermione asked, taken back slightly.
“As I told you before, I’m bisexual,” corrected Remus.
“Not before you met me, you weren’t,” Tonks interjected. “You only liked blokes until I came along.”
“So you and Sirius were a couple?” Harry asked, ashamed he hadn’t realized.
“Yes, we were,” Remus said with a pleasant smile. “We were lovers but we broke up over a tiff we had shortly before Wormtail betrayed us all. Then we reconnected after the year I taught at Hogwarts. And we reconnected several hundred times while he was locked up in Grimmauld Place.”
Harry experienced a moment of happiness. He realized that he was happy with the thought that at least his godfather had some comfort before he died.
“So that comment about Tonks’ metamorphmagus abilities being a benefit was true?” Hermione asked tentatively.
“Yes, Hermione. Not only can I change my appearance, I can change my plumbing too,” Tonks said with a smile. The pink haired witch walked up to Hermione and confided; “You gain a whole new appreciation for how much blokes love blow-jobs when you can grow a willy and have it sucked on.”
“Oh,” uttered Hermione as she blushed a deep ruby red.
“I don’t mean to be a pest, but the polyjuice is about to wear off,” Courtney said. “And seeing how I’m only wearing a nappy, I’ll be pretty much naked. Now, I know how kinky Hermione and Harry are, but I don’t want to give them a show.”
“Alright, we’d better leave then,” Remus said.
After saying their goodbyes, Harry and Hermione were left alone.
“So, what should we do now?” Harry asked. He was hoping Hermione would ask for suggestions to which he’d offer “How about you bend over the desk…” but unfortunately, Hermione stated;
“I have to head to the Library and study.” She scooped up some parchment and quills. “Professor McGonagall offered me some extra credit and I’m taking her up on it.”
“But, your grade is around one hundred and eighty percent already. Why do you need extra credit?” complained Harry.
“It never hurts to get on Professor McGonagall’s good side,” Hermione stated.
“Her good side? Merlin, Hermione, McGonagall loves you so much right now I’d bet she has you in her will.”
“Maybe you should learn from my example,” Hermione challenged. “You could always boost your marks up a bit. How about you join me and we both can get some extra credit?”
“No,” he said automatically. “I’ve been reading and studying all day long. It’s time for a break.”
“Fine, it’s your loss,” Hermione said and made her way out of the room.
Harry grumbled. He was looking forward to making love with Hermione. So much so that ‘Harry, Jr.’ was stirring from his slumber. The organ was slowly risingand asked where Hermione was. For a moment, Harry considered taking the issue in hand – literally – and alleviate himself. But he had a girlfriend now and therefore he shouldn’t have to do this solo anymore. Grumpily, Harry flopped down on the couch.
A loose piece of parchment sticking out of one of Harry’s books on Quidditch caught his eye. He remembered that he had written down something and placed in a book back when he was under the effects of the Wit Enhancing ritual, but like all things he learned or thought during that time, Harry had only fuzzy recollections. Curious as to what he had written, Harry reached over and pulled the paper out of the book. It was a note, in his hand, addressed to himself. It read;
“Dear Harry,
Since you cannot remember things that occurred clearly, I have written this note.
I had a wonderful idea for a charm, and thanks to the boosted intelligence I received, I created it. I have not told Hermione about this spell because I want it to be a surprise.
It is called Loninquitas Amorus. I won’t go into detail how I created or how it works because I know how feeble your mind is…”
Harry paused in his reading. Had he just insulted his own intelligence? As if he had somehow predicted this question back when he wrote the note, the next line stated;
“Yes, I just insulted your intelligence, get over it.
Now back to the charm; the name Loninquitas Amorus literally means ‘Distance Love.’ Basically, with this spell, you will be able to pleasure Hermione from a distance. There is no physical contact, penetration, or liquid exchange. Hermione will only experience sensations and feelings. Just purse your lips in a kiss and imagine that you are kissing her and Hermione will have the sensation of actually being kissed. The same applies for foreplay; if you move your fingers about while focusing on Hermione’s ‘flower’ she’ll get the sensation of being stimulated. Same tactics apply to oral sex; work your tongue while pretending to eat her out and she’ll get the sensation.
Sex is even simpler than anything else. The technique you’ll need to perform this part of the charm is something you’ve been practicing for years; masturbation. While you’re wanking yourself, imagine that Hermione is wrapped around your organ instead of your hand.
The incantation is Loninquitas Amorus if you haven’t figured that out already. The necessary wand movements and spell intents are fully detailed on the second sheet of parchment.
Yours… or rather ‘me’s,’
Harry.”
A nasty smile stretched across Harry’s face. He got up from the couch and fetched his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to the Library. He reckoned it was high-time to test out this new charm.
Once he was close to the Library, Harry slipped into a classroom. There, he cast a Silencing Charm around himself, jotted down a quick note, and tossed the Invisibility Cloak over his body. With the combination of Cloak and the Silencing Charm, no one would be able to see or hear Harry as he performed his new charm on Hermione. Well except for Moody’s Magical Eye, and he wasn’t anywhere near the library, so it’s the same thing.
Walking into the Library, Harry noted that it was rather crowded. A group of fifth year Slytherins was in the Divination section, while two sixth year Ravenclaws were browsing Ancient Runes. And located next to the table where Hermione was doing some light reading (only four books at the moment) was nearly a dozen second years from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, huddled around a large tome. Pince, the Librarian, was scuttling from group to group, making sure no one was up to any shenanigans.
Silently, Harry slinked up to Hermione and placed the note he had just written on the book she was reading. When he pulled his hand away, it must’ve looked like the note popped into existence to Hermione. Before reading the scrap of paper, Hermione looked around, trying to find Harry, obviously knowing that he was hiding under his Cloak. Giving up on trying to find her lover, Hermione read the note.
“I created a new charm and I’m going to test it out. Just try and remain quiet.
Love,
H.”
Hermione eyes narrowed in question as Harry took his place a few feet away from her. Whether she was going to ask what type of charm it was, why would she have to try to be quiet, or how on earth Harry was able to create a charm didn’t matter. Under his Cloak, Harry waved his wand in the proscribed manner and incanted “Loninquitas Amorus.”
Harry pursed his lips and imagined pressing them to Hermione’s. He pretended to take in her scent. He saw his girlfriends eyes widened in surprise. She reached up and touched her lips, clearly wondering why it felt like she was being kissed. Harry parted his lips and slid his tongue out, remembering what it felt like to have his tongue roll around Hermione’s mouth. A fetching blush grew on Hermione’s cheeks.
Satisfied that the charm was working so far, Harry decided to progress further. He imagined trailing kisses down Hermione chin, neck, and to her breasts. The brunette witch gave a startled little jump when Harry mimed tweaking her nipples. He magically worked on her breasts for some time, licking, suckling, tweaking, and caressing air. Hermione fidgeted slightly as the sensation of having Harry kiss and fondle her body overcame her.
Smiling, Harry moved onto the next part of his plan. He held his hand in front of his face, extended his fore and middle finger, spreading them out in a “v” and began to lick the space between his fingers. Hermione sat bolt straight in her chair as she felt Harry’s tongue on her nether lips. Eyes bulging and darting in every direction, the witch was clearly worried that someone would notice her predicament. And knowing how kinky his witch was, Harry was positive that the threat of discovery was turning Hermione on even more.
Tiny beads of sweat blossomed on Hermione’s brow. Harry assumed that she must’ve been practically flowing at that time. But, he wanted more out of her. Tapping into his love core, Harry activated his parseltongue ability.
“That’s cheating!” Hermione muttered under her breath. Almost instantaneously, she began to gyrate her hips, grinding her bum and other bits into her seat. “Cheating! Unfair! Cheating!” she chanted in a soft voice.
A short while later, Hermione began to tremble. Harry knew that she wanted to cry out in ecstasy but she was forcing it back. Her mouth opened and her lips formed a tight “o.” The witch’s eyelids were half closed. Harry realized that his lover was about to have one hell of a climax. He guessed that it must’ve been the combination of his parsletongue magic, the threat of being found out, and books – which were a turn on for Hermione – that was eliciting such a response from her.
Suddenly, Hermione gripped the edge of the table and stomped her feet down. Seemingly involuntarily, her bottom rose up off of the seat two or three inches. The witch let out a long, shuttering “o-o-oh!” before slowly lowering herself back onto the chair.
While she caught her breath, Hermione looked over at the group of second years just a few feet away. Thankfully, none of them had seemed to have noticed her actions. While Hermione was attempting to regain her composure, Harry pulled a very eager ‘Harry, Jr.’ out of his trousers. The raven haired wizard spat a large amount of saliva onto his palm and spread it over his organ. He spat once more and remembered the actual sensation of what it felt like to make love to Hermione. The wizard gripped his “wand” and slowly stroked himself.
Hermione’s eyes shot open, wider than they ever had before. It looked like her eyes were threatening to leap out of her skull and roll across the table.
“Oh, my,” she muttered softly.
Inch by inch, Harry slowly moved his hand down his shaft. Then, just as slowly, he slid his hand back up. He repeated this twice more and Hermione’s hands gripped the table, her feet stomped the ground, and her lips formed an “o” once again. Harry marveled at Hermione’s reaction, she was already approaching another orgasm. Apparently, his new spell was working wonderfully.
Harry continued to masturbate for several minutes. During this time Hermione had no less than three orgasms, each one threatening her resolve not to cry out passionately. She had sweated so much that her hair clung to her face, which was glowing red.
“Miss Granger, are you well?” Madame Pince asked.
Harry had been so intent on Hermione that he had not seen the Librarian walk up to her table.
“YES!” Hermione said a little too vehemently.
Harry wanted to stop, but he was so damn close that his hand wouldn’t listen. It continued to pump away involuntarily.
“I’m f-f-fine, ma…ma’am,” Hermione stuttered. With a touch of horror, Harry could tell that another orgasm was about to hit his lover any second. Thankfully though, Harry was in a similar state. He took comfort knowing that it would soon be over.
“You look ill, girl,” Pince pressed.
“O-oh, its n-n-nothing,” insisted Hermione rather breathily. “It’s j-just my ah-ah-allergies.”
“You should go see Madame Pomfrey,” suggested Pince. “She has a number of allergy remedies.”
“I’ll do-do-do that,” agreed Hermione. Then it was upon her. Harry saw her eyes grow wide in a combination of ecstasy and terror. A very large climax was about to claim her. And judging by the look of fear in her eyes, Harry knew that Hermione wouldn’t be able to stifle any cries that would ensue. Hermione took in a great, deep breath and Harry tensed, waiting for her scream of passion.
“AH-CHOO!” Hermione let out a very loud and very fake sneeze. “AH-CHOO!” she echoed and her feet kicked out. She threw her head back and “sneezed” several times in succession. “AH! AHHH! AH-AH-CHOO! AH-CHOOOOooo! AH-CHOO!” Harry was wincing at Hermione’s utter lack of acting ability. He was honestly surprised that the librarian was buying those clearly fake sneezes.
As his lover continued to hide her screaming orgasm with sneezes, Harry finally joined her in ecstasy. With a grunt, Harry ejaculated.
“My, that was a mighty large one,” Pince commented, surprised by the ferocity of Hermione’s sneeze.
“Damn right it was,” Hermione muttered in a husky voice. The edges of her lips spiked upwards and her eyes were sparkling in a truly satisfied way.
“Well, get yourself to the Hospital ward straight away,” Pince ordered. Harry could tell that the Librarian was less concerned about Hermione’s health than she was about the younger witch getting germs and boogies all over her precious books.
“Let me catch my breath, then I’ll go see Pomfrey,” Hermione sighed contentedly.
Now that his task was completed Harry magically cleansed his discharge (he had thought about leaving his mess on the floor but that was too unhygienic) and left.
Humming happily to himself, Harry walked toward the Head Boy and Girl’s room unseen and unheard by anyone. He was satisfied, not only for having created such a useful spell like Loninquitas Amorus but also for making Hermione climax like she had never before.
“Potter’s the best teacher, I tell you,” a sixth year Ravenclaw told his friends as Harry passed a small gathering. Curious as to why these kids were talking about him, Harry moved closer so that he could listen in.
“I’ve learned so much from him,” another boy added with a grin.
For a moment, Harry had thought they were talking about Dumbledore’s Army, but it didn’t make sense at all. None of these younger wizards were part of that group so they clearly couldn’t be talking about Harry’s lessons in Defense.
“My bird loves what I’ve learned,” a third boasted. “She was practically gushing.”
“But not as much as Granger gushes, I’d wager,” the second chuckled. “She’s an effing hosepipe… but in a good way.”
Harry’s blood turned to ice in his veins.
“I can’t wait for my turn to watch it,” a fourth said excitedly.
“Why? You don’t even have a girlfriend,” the first ridiculed.
“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching the Pensieves.”
“It was pretty cool to watch,” the second said in a distracted way, like he was reminiscing. “Granger is hot and so damned frisky.”
“And besides, look at Creevey,” the third pointed out. “He didn’t have a girlfriend, and now thanks to those Pensieves, he’s bagged Patil.”
“I really can’t wait until it’s my turn to watch,” the fourth repeated.
In total shock, Harry stumbled away from the group of Ravenclaws. As he blindly made his way back to his chambers, his mind was rocked by what he had just heard. The Pensieve Memory he and Hermione had made for Ron was making the rounds at school. People were watching Harry and Hermione being intimate. That was why everyone was acting strangely; Su Li kissing Hermione, that Ravenclaw giving him the thumbs up a few days before, Seamus with Pavarti and Lavender, and Colin with Padma.
Harry didn’t know how he made it into his chambers or when he had taken off his Invisibility Cloak which was draped over a nearby chair. He was looking around the room in a daze and had not noticed Hermione walk in.
“That was a very, very interesting charm,” she complimented. “Did you make it while under the effects of the Wit Enhancing ritual?”
“Sure,” he uttered, not listening to what she had said.
“It worked wonderfully, but you do have to work on your aim a bit,” the brunette witch added with a smile plastered on her face. “You see, when you entered me, you were just a few inches off course.”
“Okay,” he spoke, skill shocked over the revelation that Ron had passed the Pensieve Memory around and that a good number of his peers had watched him go down on Hermione.
“I’m not angry,” Hermione continued, not noticing Harry’s distracted mindset. “I found that I rather liked it. Actually, that’s an understatement. Well, don’t be cross because I know I said I’d never let you take me that way, but I say lets give it a shot right now. It is possible that it was the effects of your love based magic that gave me such a… positive response and the actual physical act of sodomy may be unbearable, but I’m willing to give it a try,” she finished with a nervous yet eager twinkle in her eyes.”
“Un-huh,” Harry said evenly.
“Harry, what is your problem?” she demanded. “I just asked you to bugger me and you’re acting like I killed Hedwig.”
Slowly, Harry turned and faced his lover. He tried to find a way to sugarcoat the news, but how does one say “Well, we’re accidental porn-stars, dear.” So Harry just blurted it out.
“Remember that Pensieve Memory we made for Ron and Luna?” Harry asked. Hermione nodded, and he continued in a rapid manner, “Well, Ron’s been lending it out.”
“To whom?” she asked with an angry expression on her face.
“Um, everyone,” he answered.
“Everyone?” she nearly screeched. The anger in her eyes grew in intensity.
“Yes, everyone,” he confirmed. “Apparently in turns.”
Anger could no longer describe Hermione’s expression and Harry had a difficult time finding a proper word to describe it. But one thing Harry did do was make a mental note to write a touching eulogy for Ron.

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