Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Thirteen: Hooters Galore!
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 Thirteen Summary: Luna lends her hand to the Hunt!
With a bounce in his step and a smile like he was the kneazle who ate the fairy, Ron joined Harry and Hermione for breakfast in the kitchen the next morning. Normally, the three friends would’ve had their morning meal in the Great Hall, but the House-Elves were still out spreading the word that the Great One had arrived. So the trio was forced to prepare their own meals.
Harry was loathed to admit it, but Ron was positively glowing (he was loathed to admit it because one bloke never describes another as “positively glowing” – well the Creevey brothers might, but not Harry).
“I hope you don’t mind,” Ron began while he shoveled great piles of food onto his plate, “but I invited Luna over for breakfast.”
“That’s wonderful,” Hermione cheered. Harry could tell by the look on her face that his girlfriend was overjoyed because her plan had worked. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a smile that threatened to split her face open. Harry couldn’t help but to feel happy for his best mate as well.
“I told her how to enter the kitchen, so she knows where to find us,” Ron stated. “Anyway, I had the strangest dream last night.”
“Was it about Luna?” asked Hermione. Harry knew she was hoping to hear some romantic story about Ron and Luna, even if it was a dream.
“No,” Ron smiled even more when Luna’s name was mentioned. “Harry and I were playing chess in the Common Room, and you were cheering us on,” he said to Hermione.
“Well, what’s strange about that?” asked Hermione.
“The strange part was that you were really loud,” informed Ron. “You kept screaming ‘Yes, Harry that’s it!’ and ‘Sweet baby //Maeve//!’ And every once in a while you’d kick out your legs and knock something over and then say ‘Yes!’ It was weird.”
Harry nearly choked on his food as he heard Ron’s tale. Harry could tell that Hermione wanted to run away and hide. Apparently, even though Ron had been dead asleep, he still heard Hermione’s cries of passion when Harry had done his best to return the pleasure Hermione had given him before Ron returned from his date. Luckily, Ron had just thought it was part of his dream and didn’t realize that Harry was using his Parselmouth and love-based magic to make Hermione a very happy and satisfied witch.
“So tell us about the date,” Hermione said with a hint of hope in her voice. Harry reckoned that she hoped that Ron would drop the discussion of his dream.
“We realized it was a fake Lust Potion after…” Ron began, and his face lit up even more. “After we… you know. Anyway, I guess I need to thank for tricking me like that. If I hadn’t thought you’d dosed me, I probably would’ve done something rash.”
Harry wondered what Ron considered rash; apparently getting a hand-job in a pub from a girl he was set up on a blind date, after only saying hello to no less than two minutes before, wasn’t an action Ron considered /’rash’/.
“So, as I was saying, after you two left, Luna and me, we started talking. She doesn’t know much about Quidditch, but she says she’d like to learn,” Ron stated as he continued to recap his date. “And she listens, I mean, really listens. I’m not stupid; I know that I say some pretty dumb things. Sometimes, I just can’t find the right words, or I get frustrated and I say things I don’t really mean. But Luna just sat there and listened to me. It was as if she knew what I was saying when I didn’t even know how to put it into words. After a few minutes, she was actually finishing my sentences for me; do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, we know…” began Harry.
“…how that feels,” concluded Hermione.
With a smile, Ron went back to happily shoveling copious amounts of food into his mouth. But Harry realized that Ron’s recollection of his date was a little lacking; it didn’t explain his state when he walked in on Harry and Hermione the night before. Ron was utterly exhausted, and his clothes were a tattered mess. According to his story, after he received the public hand-job, he and Luna talked. As Harry knew, hand-jobs were nice, but they usually didn’t leave one exhausted. And it definitely didn’t cause one to get their robes all torn up. So Harry figured that something else must have happened to Ron, perhaps after the date ended. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention while he was lost in his happiness over the date, and tripped down some stairs.
Before Harry could inquire as to what happened, footfalls drew the three friends’ attention to the entrance of the kitchen. From the open doorway, a very happy looking Luna Lovegood strolled in. The first thing Harry noticed was her cute smile and the glow in her cheeks. The second thing he noticed was that she was walking funny, as if she was in some discomfort. He wondered briefly if she had fallen like Ron might have.
Hermione, on the other hand, lost her happy and proud look. It was replaced by anger, and it was directed at Ron. Harry was taken back at Hermione’s sudden change in demeanor and was about to ask her what was wrong when she hissed across the table at their red-haired friend. “Ron. What. Did. You. Do?”
Ron hung his head in a mixture of shame, embarrassment, pride, and happiness but remained silent. Luna took her place next to Ron, but Harry saw that she was sitting a little funny. She seemed to place all of her weight on the side of her hip; Harry thought that couldn’t be comfortable for her.
“Luna, are you okay?” Harry asked with concern before taking a bit of food.
“Harry, I’ll explain-” Hermione began, but Luna interrupted her.
“I’m a little sore because Ronald made me a woman last night,” the blonde witch informed them. Harry did, in fact, choke on his food this time. While Hermione was trying to help Harry breathe by slapping him on the back, Luna explained further. “After he came in my hand, we talked for a while. Then Ronald tossed me on the table and plowed my virgin fertile fields.”
Finally, Harry was able to dislodge the bit of food that was blocking his airway and took a huge gulp of air.
“But, wait,” Harry started. “Ron, you said that you’d figured that out it was a fake Lust Potion after the…” Harry paused, hesitant to say the name of that particular – and extremely fun – activity in front of Luna simply out of embarrassment.
“You mean, after he came in my hand?” Luna asked and Harry blushed. “Harry, it’s called a hand-job. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” Harry gaped at her like a fish out of water as she turned her attention to Hermione. “It’s a wonderfully easy way to please a wizard. I can give you some tips on how to do it if you’d like, Hermione.” As Harry continued to gape at Luna, Hermione stared bug-eyed at the blonde witch. “First, you have to lubricate your hand; you own saliva will do nicely. Then you just squeeze – but not too hard though – and pump. It’s fairly easy. I have to warn you though, the ejaculate gets all over,” Luna paused once more and her smile got even brighter as she turned to Ron. “It was so warm and sticky… I just couldn’t help but to lick-”
“But that doesn’t explain why you two had sex!” Hermione interrupted to which Harry was grateful. He was glad that Ron and Luna had connected (though he was a little shocked to see that they had connected in that manner) but he didn’t want intimate details.
“Hermione, I’m so surprised by you,” Luna replied patiently. “That’s the problem with some intelligent people; very smart when it comes to books, but a little slow in other areas.” Luna began to speak slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, “Sometimes when a Hippogriff meets a Unicorn-”
“We were just caught up in the moment,” Ron put in.
“Yes, we were caught up in the moment three times before Tom threw us out of the Leaky Cauldron,” Luna clarified.
It was as if both Harry and Hermione’s jaws had hit the table. Three times! Ron had shagged Luna three times! Including the hand-job, that meant that Ron had cummed four times!
Hermione looked at Harry and her eyes clearly asked,/ “Can you cum four times?”/
/Harry responded with his eyes, “Not in a row.”/
/ /”Then we were caught up in the moment again in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron,” continued Luna.
“And then there was the time outside the twins’ shop,” added Ron.
“No wonder you’re sore,” Hermione muttered. Harry looked at his friend in shock and awe. Six times… one after the other. No wonder he was almost comatose when he walked into their dorm room last night. Along with the sense of awe, Harry’s confidence was knocked down just a little. He realized, at best, he could do it twice, and then only if he was really riled up. And here Ron could do it six times!
“To be honest, each time was what I’d call /’short and sweet,’/” Luna confessed. A bit of Harry’s confidence returned – of course it was at the cost of Ron’s self-esteem. The red-haired teen looked like he had just been hit across the face.
“But of course it doesn’t really matter now that I think about it,” Luna cooed while caressing Ron’s cheek. “I mean, we did have sex for nearly twenty consecutive minutes. I lost count of how many times I orgasmed.”
“Twenty minutes!” both Harry and Hermione screeched and Ron beamed at his own masculine prowess. Harry knew that he was lasting longer and longer each time he and Hermione were intimate, but twenty minutes! He was lucky if he had lasted five minutes the night before. Harry was equally jealous and impressed with Ron’s stamina and virility.
“I have to tell you something; witch to witch,” Luna said to Hermione. “When a man ejaculates in your pussy as much as Ronald did in mine, you’d better know a good Cleansing Charm.”
“This is all my fault,” Hermione wailed. “If I hadn’t tricked you two into thinking I gave you a Lust Potion, you could have talked a little and made a deep connection.”
“But we did talk and make a connection,” Ron countered.
“Yeah, they connected six times,” Harry mumbled. “In a row.”
“No you didn’t. You talked for all of fifteen minutes,” continued Hermione. “Then you shagged like a pack of… a pack of-”
“Peruvian Short-Tooth Love Monkeys?” offered Luna.
“Yes!” Hermione agreed – Harry knew that Hermione had no idea what Peruvian Short-Tooth Love Monkeys were or what their mating habits were like, but that she had agreed to Luna’s analogy just to move the conversation, or rather, the argument along. After a second, Hermione continued, “I had hoped you two would have a deep and meaningful relationship; that you’d talk for hours and hours. But you two spent the night shagging each others’ brains out.”
“But we did talk,” stated Luna.
“I know you did,” Hermione said with a touch of disappointment in her voice. Harry knew that she was only a little disappointed with Ron and Luna’s actions; most of the frustration that Hermione was feeling was with herself. Harry knew that his girlfriend was berating herself for not coming up with a better plan. “But you only talked for a short while, then you two had sex on one of the tables in the Leaky Cauldron.”
“But we talked during that time as well,” Luna said.
“What?” both Harry and Hermione blurted out.
“It’s amazing what one will say in between thrusts,” Luna stated dreamily. “I feel like I know Ronald completely.” Luna turned to her boyfriend, and looked as if she was lost in his eyes. “His favorite color is orange.”
“Luna’s is lilac,” Ron said as he too became lost in his girlfriend’s eyes. “I didn’t even know it was a color; I thought that it was just a flower.”
“Ronald’s afraid of spiders,” Luna continued.
“So is Luna,” added Ron.
“His dream is to coach Quidditch.”
“Her dream is to prove to the world that Snorkacks really do exist.”
“The three of you are hunting You Know Who’s Horcruxes.”
Harry’s heart stopped beating for two whole seconds. He could feel Hermione tense up next to him.
“She’s so creative with vegetables,” added Ron, oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend just admitted that he had told her a very big secret.
“Ronald likes the smell of coffee,” Luna continued. “But he doesn’t like the taste.”
“You told her?” moaned Hermione while Harry just looked at Ron dumbstruck.
“Why not?” Ron questioned. “I don’t like coffee.”
“No, you prat,” Harry chided. “You told her about the Horcruxes.”
“I did?” Ron asked himself more than anyone else.
“Yes, you did,” Luna replied. “It was when we were outside your brothers’ shop. You remember, it was when you missed your target.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ron said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry Ronald, they are fairly close together now that I think about it,” Luna consoled her boyfriend with a tender caress of his cheek. “It’s completely understandable that you missed in the heat of the moment.”
“Luna you’re not supposed to know about it,” Hermione said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Luna asked, completely befuddled. “I do know for a fact that Ronald missed.”
“No, not that,” Hermione explained. “You’re not supposed to know about Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”
“Yeah, you can get in trouble,” added Harry. “If Voldemort or his followers know that you know something, they will try to make you talk.”
“Harry, you know as well as anybody, most people simply assume I’m insane,” Luna put in. “Even if I did get caught, no one would bother to listen to me. Besides, I think I can help you. And I want to help any way I can.”
Pausing, Harry thought on what Luna said. He already knew that she was trustworthy, dependable, and intelligent. She had proven her loyalty and bravery when she joined them to invade the Department of Mysteries. Harry decided that he believed that she could indeed help with their hunt for the Horcruxes. He turned to his girlfriend and with a simple nod of his head, told Hermione that he thought that the notion of Luna joining their group was a good idea.
“Alright, you’re in,” announced Hermione.
“Thank you,” Luna beamed.
The two couples ate in silence for a moment before Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her.
“Luna, you said that Ron told you about the Horcruxes when he missed his target. What did you mean by that?” Hermione asked.
“After pulling back too far, Ronald tried to reenter me, but he missed his target,” explained Luna. Both Harry and Hermione were a little confused while Ron was blushing madly. “It was a bit uncomfortable at first, but Ronald seemed to be enjoying himself immensely so I just relaxed. I’m just glad that Ronald’s penis was well lubricated by our juices from the pervious times he plowed my fertile fields, otherwise it probably would’ve been unbearable, if you know what I mean.”
Harry gulped as Luna’s tail… err… tale became clear while Hermione muttered once more; “No wonder you’re sore.”
Thankfully, any further revelations of Luna and Ron’s incredibly successful first date were quelled when a hyper-active miniature owl zoomed into view. Harry realized that the bird must have found its way into the kitchen by flying down one of the unused chimneys.
“Pig,” stated Ron as he tried to catch his pet. “Mum must’ve sent a note.”
Pigwidgeon zipped past Ron and made a spectacular dive right into the front of Luna’s robes. The blonde witch giggled and thrashed about as if she was being tickled by dozens of feathers – which in fact, she was. By the looks of it, Pigwidgeon was flitting about her overly large breasts, because Luna was involuntarily squeezing her boobs against each other by bringing her arms together, jiggling her mounds this way and that, while giggling uproariously. In other words, she was giving Ron and Harry quite a show; even Hermione seemed intrigued – though not as intrigued as the boys. After a very entertaining minute, Luna stilled and said with a glow in her cheeks; “I think he’s asleep.”
To prove her point, Luna pulled down the front her robes to reveal the small owl resting right in the valley of her cleavage. Pigwidgeon was hooting softly and rhythmically as if he was snoring peacefully. Harry doubted that the hyper owl had gotten tired, more than likely, Pig just really liked Luna’s boobs and had decided to use them as pillows to sleep on.
“Ronald, aren’t you going to get your post?” Luna asked.
“W-w-what post?” asked Ron as he stared dumbly at Luna’s breasts. Harry imagined that Ron had a bit a drool hanging from his mouth at the time. Harry had to imagine because he too was staring at Luna’s cleavage as well.
“The post on your owl,” clarified Luna.
“W-w-what owl?” asked a distracted Ron.
“They’re huge,” Harry heard Hermione mutter. Apparently, she was just as enthralled as he was.
“The owl between my titties,” Luna further pointed out.
“Oh,” mutter Ron, and reached for his sleeping owl. On the first attempt, Ron completely missed the owl and wedged his hand in Luna’s cleavage. He made no effort to remove his hand and left it there for a good ten seconds before he muttered, “Sorry ’bout that,” in an insincere tone. Luna giggled – and jiggled – as Ron removed his hand and tried to grab his owl. Again Ron missed his target and wedged his hand in-between her boobs – and again, Luna giggled. Harry wondered if Ron’s actions were accidental or intentional. The third time Ron “missed” Pig, Harry’s suspicion was confirmed.
“Um, Luna,” began Hermione. Harry saw out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was looking directly at Luna’s chest. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where the hell did those come from?” she asked and pointed a finger at Luna’s orbs.
“Puberty,” Luna answered simply, while Ron uttered another/ “oops” /when he “missed” Pig again. In her traditional sing-song voice, Luna explained; “My mother was similarly endowed, and my father often told me how much it vexed her when people assumed that since she had large breasts, she couldn’t possibly be intelligent.” Luna continued to speak in a tone that conveyed the idea that it was an everyday occurrence to have Ron fondle her breasts in front of two people while a tiny owl slept in her cleavage. “Simply because my mother was blonde and had very large boobs, people thought that she was dim; which wasn’t the case at all. So to avoid the same problems that plagued my mother, I merely hid my size with various Glamour Charms once I started to develop.
“I wanted people to listen to what I say and not focus on my breast,” stated Luna… well at least Harry thought that is what she said. At that time, he was pretty much focused on her expansive cleavage. Yes, Harry did prefer Hermione’s boobs. But Harry was a man, and men tend to be entranced by any set of breasts; large or small. Boobs are boobs and men like them… a lot.
Luna cooed as she scooped the little owl out from its nesting area of her tits and plucked the post off of his leg. After she retrieved the scroll, she placed the sleeping bird back where she had picked him up. Pig appeared to snuggle into a more comfortable position in her cleavage.
“You can remove your hand now, Ronald,” Luna requested in her dreamy voice. “But mind that you don’t bother Pigwidgeon, he’s sleeping.”
Ron dejectedly slid his hand out from his new girlfriend’s cleavage and Luna unrolled the scroll and began to read aloud.
“Dearest Ron,
Your sister and I have had a few… conversations over the past few days and I have finally made her see the errors of her actions. Normally, her behavior would merit stern punishment, but her sixteenth birthday is near. And after all, a witch only has one sixteenth birthday.
Thankfully, I’ve been able to convince your sister to grow up and accept that Harry has moved on. More importantly, she has come to realize that her behavior and actions were unacceptable. To this end, Ginny has given me an Unbreakable Vow stating that she will not make any more advances on Harry or try to disrupt his current relationship. Would you please extend an invitation to Harry and Hermione to come to Ginny’s birthday party? All the family as well as a number of friends will be here.
Sadly, neither Remus nor Tonks will be able to attend. Tonks will be on patrol and unfortunately, Ginny’s birthday falls on a full moon this year.
I hope to see you and your friends on the eleventh.
Love
Mum
PS do buy your sister something nice, she’s had a rough few days.”
/ /”Luna, would you like to come?” Ron asked his girlfriend.
“Yes,” Luna smiled, “as often as possible, please.”
“How about you two?” Ron asked turning to Harry and Hermione (apparently Luna’s joke went over his head).
Harry was hesitant at the idea of attending Gin-Gin the Erection Killer’s birthday party. However, she had given her mother an Unbreakable Vow and if Ginny went against that Vow, she would die. Harry figured that he could get to spend some time with a family that he loved and Ginny would have to behave herself. If she didn’t, she’d die. So, either way, it looked like it was going to be a good day for him.
“We’d love to,” Hermione answered for the two of them. Harry wondered if Hermione had come to the same conclusion as he had.
“Fantastic,” Ron heralded. “Let me just send a note back to mum.”
Ron snatched Pig from his resting place between Luna’s boobs. The tiny owl hooted in protest as Ron scribbled a quick note and attached it to Pig’s leg. Before flying back up the chimney, Pigwidgeon looked forlornly at Luna’s immense breasts and hooted sadly.
“So, what do we do for the rest of the day?” Ron asked while blatantly looking down Luna’s top. It was obvious to everyone what Ron wanted to do for the rest of the day… perhaps in the nearest broom cupboard.
“We can discuss the Horcruxes,” Luna suggested and Ron’s shoulder’s slumped. “Maybe a fresh insight would help?”
“Actually, that’s a good idea,” admitted Hermione. She gave a naughty smile to Ron and added; “And it’s something you’ll enjoy, Ron.”
As the four friends made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione told Luna and Ron about the han… the ritual that would locate hidden or missing items. Luna was genuinely intrigued by the ritual and how it worked, whereas Ron was honestly fascinated by the hand-job. When they got to Ron and Harry’s room, Hermione handed Luna the ‘special book.’
/ /Luna thumbed through “The Magic of Making Love” while Ron looked over her shoulder. The blonde witch paused at a familiar page in the book and asked; “Whose foot is that by her ear?”
“This is the greatest book…” Ron breathed. “Ever!”
“Remember, you’ll have to focus on the Horcruxes. We need to know where the missing one is,” explained Harry.
“We’ll leave the two of you to it,” Hermione said wickedly, and led Harry back to the Common Room.
As the couple re-entered the Common Room, a sudden thought occurred to Harry. Now that Ron was happily paired up with Luna, Harry and Hermione’s relationship could move on to the next step; they could have sex. It was going to happen; he was going to make love to Hermione.
Harry had thought that when this moment came up that he would be eager and willing. But now that it was going to happen, he felt rather nervous and light headed. His hands shook and sweat beads popped up all over his face. Normally, Harry’s moods never affected ‘Harry, Jr.’/. His penis was always up and willing even if Harry was in a bad or apprehensive mood. However, /’Harry, Jr.’ was apparently so nervous about the idea of getting to play inside of Hermione’s womanhood that the poor thing hiked up its overcoat over its head and hid.
It was odd; if someone were to have asked him the day before if he was ready to make love to Hermione, he would’ve shouted to the heavens an impassioned “YES!” But the idea of actually doing it frightened him somehow.
Hermione must have caught on to Harry’s discomfort – more than likely because she was still holding his hand and it was sweating like mad. She cupped his face in her hands and said, “Don’t worry. We’re not going to do the other ritual right now.”
“W-w-we’re not?” Harry asked nervously.
“I was waiting to see if Ron and Luna liked each other before I even started making the potion,” she explained. She then added in an undertone; “And boy, do they like each other.”
“How… how long until the potion is ready?” Harry asked with dread. He was afraid that Hermione was going to say something along the lines of “two minutes” and in that moment, Harry was not ready to lose his virginity.
“Seven days,” stated Hermione.
A wave of relief washed over Harry. He relaxed and smiled at his girlfriend. Of course ‘Harry, Jr.’ was still hiding.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t fool around,” Hermione said coyly.
‘Harry, Jr.’ threw off his overcoat and bounced into action.
“What did you have in mind?” Harry asked saucily.
“Well, I’ve only tasted you once to see if my experiment worked,” the naughty witch said as she rubbed herself against Harry’s rapidly hardening organ.
“How about while you’re doing your experiment, I give you a little…” Harry began and paused as he focused on an image of a snake in his mind. He finished by saying in Parseltongue; “… pleas-s-sure.”
He took Hermione’s hand and was about to lead her up to one of the other rooms when she pulled him back and pushed him onto the couch. “Wait, what about Luna and Ron? What if they walk in on us?”
“This coming from the bloke who ate me out right next to Ron last night,” she said playfully. “You weren’t so worried about Ron waking up and seeing us.”
“But that was different,” Harry argued weakly. “Ron was out cold; there was no way he was gonna wake up. And now Luna’s up there and neither one is asleep.”
“Harry, first they have to read how to do the ritual. Then they have to brew the potion,” Hermione began. “And judging by what those two did last night, they won’t be down for an hour. Once they’re done with that the ritual, they’ll probably be shagging like bunnies.”
“Hopefully, Ron’s aim has improved,” muttered Harry.
“Before we get started, let me clarify something,” Hermione slipped into her lecture mode. “You will not be doing that to me. To quote you: /’That’s a one-way exit on me, mister’/.” She finished her statement by slapping her own bottom.
“That’s fine by me,” agreed Harry.
While tenderly kissing his girlfriend, Harry began to slowly removed Hermione’s clothes as she removed his. Harry paused after lowering Hermione’s slacks. As he knelt in front of her, he stared directly into the eyes of “Hello Kitty.”
/ /”I like these so much,” Hermione said lustfully as she traced her fingers gently over the cartoon cat. “I had to ask Dobby to return them.”
“You’re such a naughty girl,” commented Harry as he saw that her knickers were damp.
“How naughty?” purred Hermione.
The raven-haired wizard had an idea as to how to show her how naughty she was. He turned his girlfriend around and guided her so that she was bent over the arm of the large couch. Hermione arched her back so that her round bum was shoved up into the air in anticipation. Harry caressed her bottom through the pink cotton of her “Hello Kitty” knickers before giving her a playful swat.
“Oh come on, I’ve been naughtier than that,” Hermione taunted.
A slap echoed off of the walls of the Common Room as Harry’s open palm smacked Hermione’s bottom.
“Ooh, that’s more like it,” Hermione moaned before biting her lower lip and sticking her bum out more for Harry.
Again, Harry slapped his girlfriend’s rear and Hermione groaned in pleasure. He entertained himself by watching her bum jiggle as he alternated slaps between her left and right cheek. After nearly a dozen hard spanks, Harry decided that it was enough.
Slowly, Harry removed Hermione’s special knickers. He was amazed at how red her bare flesh was. The heat coming off of her bum was intense as he marveled in the sensation. He massaged her tender and assaulted bottom causing Hermione to groan.
“Lick me now, Harry,” she growled throatily. Harry leaned down and pressed his mouth to her neither lips. Her wetness poured down his chin and her pleasant musky odor filled his nose. Harry unleashed his tongue and his magic into Hermione’s flower.
“Smack my bottom, Harry,” Hermione pleaded. As he continued to eat her out, Harry’s hand flew and smacked her arse. The brunette witch cried out and ground her moist lips against Harry’s talented mouth. “Again,” she implored, “do it again.”
Her bum jiggled against his face when he spanked her. Hermione cried out “Sweet baby Maeve!” as she orgasmed and erupted into Harry’s mouth. He lapped up her juices happily as she gushed over and over.
Harry stood over her proudly as she rolled over and sat up. Her body was flush and her eyes were dark with lust.
“Get out of those effing boxers right now!” she growled.
Harry couldn’t have possibly taken his undergarment off any faster. After he tossed his boxers aside, Hermione remove her bra and freed ‘Natasha’ and /’Carmella’/.
“Lay on the couch,” ordered Hermione. Harry quickly flopped down on the couch with ‘Harry, Jr.’ pointing straight up at the ceiling. Hermione crawled over him so that her flower was right over his eager lips.
What happened next was a game; one where each person would try to out-pleasure the other. Hermione slurped, sucked, bobbed, and hummed Harry’s special theme on his member, while Harry ravished her with his tongue, using both his Love and Parsletongue magics.
In a few minutes, Harry felt the pressure build up in his loins.
“Hermione… I’m gonna…” Harry began.
“Shut the hell up and get back to work!” Hermione commanded – at least that’s what Harry thought she said. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was still in her mouth when she spoke, so it sounded more like “Suphz du helth oot und githe tou wurt!” But Harry got the general idea.
With a grunt as a warning, Harry came. He buried his face into Hermione’s flowing flower as she gulped up his load. She continued to swallow and suck his penis even after he was finished cumming. With a slurping noise from Hermione, a limp ‘Harry, Jr.’ flopped out of her mouth.
“Yeah, it’s working,” Hermione commented. Whether she was commenting on her experiment to adjust the taste of Harry’s seed or if she was referencing his cunnilingus technique, Harry didn’t know.
Harry continued to work his magic on Hermione’s flower and in a short amount of time; he felt her begin to tense up. She sat up on his face – which gave Harry a wonderfully close-up view of her still red bum – and ground her hips into him. In the heat of the moment, she dug her nails into his chest which caused Harry to growl in a combination of pleasure and pain. Of course, he growled right into her pussy which sent her over the edge.
Hermione’s muscles locked up and she bucked on top of him. Harry clamped down on her legs and hung on as he continued to eat her out. He swallowed her juices as she howled. After she climaxed, Hermione slumped on top of her boyfriend.
However, Harry had no intention of stopping there. He licked, suckled and nibbled at Hermione’s petals and bud. Hermione panted heavily as she rose up to sit on Harry’s face again. She thrashed around and groaned; Harry could tell that she wouldn’t last much longer this time around.
“I’ve found them all,” a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Hermione announced.
Hermione tensed up again but Harry knew that it wasn’t the “Oh, God I cumming!” sort of tense. But rather it was the “Oh, God, somebody is standing right next to us!” tense.
“I said ‘I’ve found them’,” the voice repeated. Harry wasn’t able to see – because his girlfriend was frozen in fear as she sat on his face (which was quite nice) – but he could tell from the sing-song tone that it was Luna, and that she was standing very close to them.
“I’ve found them,” Luna repeated yet again. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Harry could tell from her tone that Luna was waiting for some kind of response. Seeing that Hermione hadn’t moved or uttered a sound since Luna first spoke up; Harry answered.
“That’s great, Luna,” he stated flatly.
What Harry didn’t know was that he was still speaking in Parseltongue. And seeing that Hermione’s flower was still pressed up against his mouth, Harry used his magical language and spoke directly into Hermione’s womanhood.
“OH MERLIN!” screamed Hermione as she climaxed and flooded Harry’s mouth. “I’M CUMMING!”
Bucking wildly, Hermione uncontrollably fell off of Harry and crashed to the floor next to the couch. Hermione continued to spasm and moan, riding out her orgasm.
Finally able to see, Harry stared gob smacked at a very topless Luna standing no less than three feet from him. Even though he wasn’t wearing his glasses, Harry could see clearly enough to tell that the only thing Luna was wearing was a set of light purple panties… and a smile. Harry noted that her left eye appeared to be red and puffy. It would seem that Ron’s aim was just as bad as his.
“I’ve found every single one of them!” heralded Luna, as if it was perfectly normal to be standing nearly nude in front of a messy faced and naked Harry as an equally naked and thrashing Hermione as she continued to convulse through her orgasm on the ground. “I know where all of them are located!”
“That’s great,” Harry said. If this would have happened a few weeks ago, he would’ve been scrabbling to find something to cover his nakedness. But seeing that almost everyone he knew had seen him naked, he just lay there. He wondered idly if he was slowly turning into a nudist or exhibitionist. “So where’s the missing one?” he asked as a very gratified ‘Harry, Jr.’ slept in the open air.
“Oh, there’s so many more than just one,” Luna announced happily. “There’s a few dozen in Sweden.”
“D-d-d-dozens?” Hermione uttered as her orgasm finally subsided and she was able to sit up.
“Yes, in Sweden,” Luna said with a little bounce – a bounce which caused her huge tits to jiggle. “And scores more of them are in Spain; at least a hundred!”
“M-m-m-more?” Harry groaned. Voldemort had created over a hundred Horcruxes. Harry’s heart sank at the realization that the hunt for Voldemort’s Horcruxes was going to be a lot harder than he thought.
To Be Continued

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Seven
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 Seven Summary: Brainy birds are naughty!
Harry cursed at himself for his own stupidity as he dashed behind the couch where Hermione had landed. Hermione had simply wanted to see how his love based magic affected his power and Harry had complied. He concentrated on his love based magic and yet, somehow he bollixed it all up. He meant to cast a simple Cheering Charm on Hermione but instead he must have hit her with a Banishing Charm. Harry blew her off of her feet and she ended up falling behind the couch. As Harry rounded the corner of the couch in question, he expected to see the woman he loved crumpled in a heap on the floor. Bafflingly, he found nothing but the floor of the Common Room. ‘Where could she have gone?’ he thought.
Before Harry could continue his search, he heard a soft “whoosh” sound and felt a draft on ‘/Harry, Jr./’ Looking down, Harry saw that his pajama top was still on, but his pajama bottoms had mysteriously dropped down around his ankles, leaving his lower half naked and exposed.
Harry quickly bent over to re-cover himself, and to recover whatever was left of his dignity, when he felt, rather than heard, Hermione run toward him from behind. Apparently, Harry’s naked bum was too good of a target for Hermione to pass up. The wizard yelped as Hermione roughly, painfully, and quite unexpectedly smacked his left arse cheek. Before Harry could regain his wits enough to stop Hermione, she had disappeared again. He was busy rubbing his red bum when Hermione dashed out of nowhere and laid an equally painful thwack to his unprotected right cheek. Harry jumped up in pain at Hermione’s strike. Unfortunately, this jump, added with the fact that his pajama bottoms were still around his ankles, caused Harry to fall to the ground in a very unflattering position: his face was on the ground while his naked posterior was sticking up in the air. This became another opportunity that was too good for Hermione to pass up.
Harry cried out in pain as Hermione delivered powerful smacks to each of his cheeks at the same time. He finally had the common sense to roll over so that he was sitting on his now welt-covered backside. He looked up and saw Hermione swinging from the chandelier like some sort of crazed trapeze performer. How she got up there was a mystery to Harry, but the bigger mystery was how he was going to get her down. Hopefully, he could perform a levitation charm on her.
Standing holding his wand in one hand while hoisting up his bottoms, Harry was very surprised to see that Hermione had disappeared once again. He was staring at the swinging chandelier when he felt a new draft on his bits. Harry looked down to see that his pants were around his ankles again. Having learned his lesson previously, Harry decided not to temp Hermione to spank his bottom by bending over and giving her a target. He figured it be safer to use his magic to lift up his trousers. Harry had only barely pointed his wand at the fabric when he heard Hermione rushing toward him.
“Oh, shite,” Harry was able to groan out before Hermione physically tackled him by throwing her body at his back. Harry ended up on the floor in the same embarrassing position he had just gotten out of: his naked (but now red) arse sticking up in the air. This time however, Hermione was sitting on the back of his head. She was evidently pretending his backside was a set of bongos because she began to slap, smack, and spank his arse very rapidly and with increasing force.
“OW! OW! OW!” Harry cried in unison with the slaps as Hermione began to sing.
“Baba-loo!”
“OW! OW! OW!”
After several dozen paddles Hermione finally stood and commented on her work. “Wow, look at how red that is! I think it’s actually throwing off light! That is sooo cool!”
As soon as Hermione had gotten off of him, Harry once again rolled over so that he was sitting on his red and throbbing bum. Wincing slightly from the pain in his rear, Harry looked up and saw a very flushed Hermione standing him front of him. Although her eye was still red and irritated from the accidental “/ejaculate in the eye/” situation, she had a face splitting grin.
“That was fun!” Hermione declared. Harry noticed that she had very, very erect nipples; they looked as if they were going to poke holes through her blouse. “Okay, my turn!” Hermione then promptly shoved her bottom in Harry’s face and ordered “Go on, give it a good whack!”
“Hermione, I don’t -” Harry began to whine.
“Smack my arse, Potter!” Hermione commanded.
“Fine,” Harry complied and placed a gentle slap to her bottom.
“What the hell was that? Did a fly land on my bum?” Hermione mockingly asked. She lowered her slacks to reveal her milky white flesh and thin white cotton knickers to Harry. The white cotton knickers, which Harry noted, were fairly damp around Hermione’s flower. At first, Harry thought that it was just sweat, after all the witch had been running around the room. But he could have sworn he smelt the musky odor of her arousal. “When I say ‘/smack my arse/’ I mean it. Now spank me!”
“Hermione I don’t want to hurt you,” objected Harry.
“SPANK MY BOTTOM NOW!” Hermione demanded.
Spurned on by her command – and a little fearful of her wrath if he didn’t comply – Harry smacked her tender flesh with a resounding slap, his fear combined with his own sore bottom making him use a great deal more force than he intended.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes,” Hermione chanted through gritted teeth (but still grinning like a madwoman) as she hopped around Harry. “That felt sooo good!” She paused in front of Harry to lower her knickers so that her bottom was completely exposed, a sight that Harry marveled in. Right before his eyes, a hand shaped red welt rapidly developed on her naked bum. “That’s a good one, isn’t it? Now kiss it and make it better.”
Rather than argue, Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her red flesh. Her skin felt incredibly hot under his lips.
“Now rub it,” Hermione ordered.
But before Harry could happily fulfill Hermione’s wish, a soft “/ahem/” from the entrance to the Common Room drew their attention. Minerva McGonagall stood patiently by the entrance while pretending that nothing unusual was happening and she was busying herself by examining something in the corner away from Harry and Hermione.
As quickly as he could, Harry stood and pulled up his pants, covering ‘/Harry, Jr/.’. Harry turned, assuming that Hermione had done the same seeing how her bum was hanging out of her slacks. But Hermione hadn’t. In fact she wasn’t anywhere near Harry. Instead she was doing pirouettes in a circle around McGonagall like a ballerina on a sugar high. A ballerina on a sugar high who happened to have her very pretty, and very bare, arse hanging out of her slacks, mind you.
“Hermione, what are you doing?” McGonagall asked sternly as Hermione, while giggling non-stop, continued to pirouette around the Headmistress. The Headmistress scrutinized Hermione’s puffy red eye as the younger witch spun around her. “Is something wrong with your eye? Were you hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse?”
Hermione paused momentarily from her incessant spinning to answer McGonagall’s question. “Kind of, it was Harry’s own special /Cum-/junctivits Curse.” She then frantically pantomimed the cause, pointing between her eye and Harry’s crotch as if McGonagall needed a visual reference to her crude joke. Thankfully, Harry thought, judging by McGonagall’s skeptical expression, the prim Headmistress didn’t get it. At McGonagall’s questioning look, Hermione felt the need to explain her joke further. “He came in my-” Harry dashed forward and clamped his hand down on her mouth, hoping to muffle the word “eye.”
“What the hell are you two doing?” McGonagall demanded, as a grinning Hermione wrenched herself away from Harry.
“Um… we… we’re… uh experimenting…” answered Harry, ending up speaking very loudly. He had to answer loudly because the still bare-arsed Hermione was now standing on the window seat singing “/I’m a Little Teapot/” at the top of her lungs.
“I’M A LITTLE TEAPOT, SHORT AND STOUT.”
“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” stated McGonagall over Hermione’s caterwauling.
“HERE IS MY HANDLE, HERE IS MY SPOUT!”
“What was that, ma’am?” asked Harry pretending as if Hermione singing a children’s song at the top of her lungs was an everyday occurrence.
“WHEN I GET ALL STEAMED UP, HEAR ME SHOUT:”
“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” McGonagall repeated, trying her best to tune out Hermione’s less than dulcet song.
It was at this point that Hermione had decided to veer away from the traditional lyrics of “/I’m a Little Teapot/” by improvising some of her own.
“JUST PUSH ME ON THE BED AND EAT ME OUT!” Hermione also added something akin to a dance move as well; when she “/sung/” the words “… and eat me out!” she thrust her hips lewdly at Harry.
Both Harry and McGonagall stared at Hermione with stunned expressions. Ignoring the stares, Hermione hopped off of the seat and began to do wind sprints around the Room. McGonagall and Harry turned to each other and shared a look that clearly stated that neither one would ever mention Hermione’s song. Ever.
“Ron Weasley has requested to stop by in an hour or so,” McGonagall continued, speaking as if one of her favorite students was not behaving in anything less than a most responsible manner. Only her pale face, due to Hermione’s song, gave away any sort of clue as to her current mindset.
“Ron’s stopping by?” Harry asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, he said you wanted to talk to the two of you,” concluded McGonagall.
Knowing Ron, his idea of a “talk” would include him yelling and perhaps even screaming. The “talk” would also include him accusing Harry of being a glory hound and/or stealing his girl, then making Hermione cry, and then storming off.
Hermione stomped up to McGonagall, threw up her arms and cried out in an overly joyous manner, “I’m so depressed!”
Harry finally decided that it was time to lift the super-powered Cheering Charm off of Hermione. He pointed his wand at her and quickly cast a simple: “/Finite/!”
Much to both Harry and McGonagall’s surprise, Hermione’s ‘jolly’ mood did not dissipate. Instead she attempted to do a cartwheel away from the Headmistress. Her attempt failed and the brunette witch crashed to the ground. The rational part of Harry’s mind felt embarrassed for his girlfriend at her crash. However, the naughty part of Harry’s mind (the part of the brain that has control over most thought processes in most males) liked the way Hermione naked bum jiggled when it hit the floor.
Regaining his composure after being enticed by Hermione’s naked bottom, Harry looked at his wand disbelievingly as Hermione stood up, laughing. Again, he pointed his wand and said, “/Finite/!”
Apparently, the second cancellation spell worked as well as the first, seeing that Hermione still continued to laugh.
“Why isn’t it working?” McGonagall asked.
Before Harry could speculate as to the reasons, Hermione dashed at him and shouted, “Maybe because he’s using the wrong wand!” She then promptly yanked Harry’s trousers down and before he could cover himself up, she grabbed ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ and suggested, “Here, use this wand and see if it works!’
“Good grief!” McGonagall exclaimed as she tried to shield her eyes.
“Hermione,” Harry whined as he tried to push her hands away from his bits so that he could cover them.
“Fine, have it your way spoil sport,” Hermione said as she gave up and let ‘/Harry, Jr./’ go. This of course freed up her hands to do other things, like spank Harry’s naked bottom.
Harry cried out in pain as his bum was spanked once more. He recoiled away from Hermione’s hand but this led to him thrusting his bits in McGonagall’s direction. Thankfully, Harry thought, the Headmistress still had her hand over her eyes.
Hiking up his clothing once more, Harry told McGonagall it was okay to look again. But just as the elder witch lowered her hand away from her eyes, Hermione decided to lower Harry’s bottoms again.
“Oh, for pity’s sake!” McGonagall shouted.
It was at this point that Hermione decided to give the Headmistress a special puppet show, with ‘/Harry, Jr./’ being the puppet. She knelt in front of Harry and grabbed his organ once again.
“‘Hello, Professor McGonagall,'” Hermione said in a gruff voice as she held ‘/Harry, Jr./’ and made him bow in a greeting to the older witch. She was squeezing the crown of the appendage so that his urethra was opening and closing as she pretended that the slit was a mouth and it was talking. “‘I’m Harry’s Penis. How are you today?'”
Harry tried to push Hermione off of him, but Hermione held fast to his member. Because of the slight tugging going on, ‘/Harry, Jr./’ started to wake up to see what the commotion was all about.
“‘Gee, Hermione, can I come out to play?'” she ‘asked’ in her gruff voice as she continued to squeeze and tug at ‘/Harry, Jr/.’ “‘I’ve been lonely for a while. Lonely and bored. Can you help?”
“I don’t know Mr. Harry’s Penis,” she replied in her normal voice. “Your friend Harry is being a bit of a spoil sport right now…”
One can hardly blame Harry for what happened; because of all the spanking -yes it hurt, but in a good kind of way – the fact that Hermione bum was completely exposed and naked, and the fact that his girlfriend was literally and figuratively playing with his bits; Harry was starting to get aroused. This of course was mortifying because McGonagall was in the same room as he and Hermione. Harry reckoned that if the Headmistress wasn’t there, he’d let Hermione use ‘/Harry, Jr./’ as a puppet all day long. But the unfortunate fact that McGonagall was there was disturbing.
“Oh, it looks like Harry has decided to let you play after all, Mr. Harry’s Penis!” Hermione exclaimed as the organ began to swell and grow in her hand. “Would you like to play ‘/tonsil boxing/’ with me, or perhaps ‘/all hands on dick/’?”
“Ms. Granger,” McGonagall howled with her hand over her eyes. “I insist you stop this foolishness right now!”
Harry groaned as Hermione stimulated him with her hands – that and the fact that she had just used the word “/dick/,” apparently he discovered that something about Hermione talking dirty made him randy. A bit of clear pre-cum seeped out of ‘/Harry, Jr./’
“Oh, no. You poor thing. You’re crying! Why are you so sad Mr. Harry’s Penis?” asked Hermione in an overly sweetly concerned voice. “Did Professor McGonagall make you upset? Maybe you need a kiss.”
Hermione leaned in and was about to give ‘/Harry, Jr./’ a kiss when Professor McGonagall announced, “This has to stop!”
She whipped out her wand and leveled it at the kneeling witch.
“/Finite/!” the Headmistress shouted.
Hermione paused, mere centimeters away from Harry’s crown. She looked up at Harry and declared with a wink, “We’ll finish the puppet show later!’ She then jumped up and ran around the room while holding her arms out to the side and making airplane noises.
Harry and McGonagall stared at the young witch as she appeared to pretend to be a plane while running around the room. After a bit, they both shared a concerned look. Then McGonagall happened to look down.
“For heaven’s sake, Potter!” she shouted as she covered her eyes yet again. “Cover yourself up!”
Harry looked down and saw that his aroused state was still very much exposed. He quickly hiked up his pajama bottoms, completely embarrassed.
“Sorry about that Professor,” said Harry, indicating that he was now decent.
McGonagall lowered her hand and gave Harry a stern look. She proceeded to say in an austere tone “Cover yourself a little more, Potter!”
Once again, he looked down at himself in shock. He was still fairly erect and was pointing in McGonagall’s direction. It was if ‘/Harry, Jr/.’ was pointing at the Headmistress in an accusatory way and was saying “YOU! It’s your fault! I can’t play with my Hermione because you made her stop! YOU BITCH!”
As quickly as he could, Harry snatched a pillow from the nearby couch and held the fluffy accessory like a shield in front of his crotch.
“Well, at least I know you’re a true Gryffindor,” McGonagall muttered. “You ‘/dress right/’.”
Hermione had finally stopped pretending to be a plan and was now tumbling head over heels across the floor chanting “Hoop-ah!”
“What in the hell did you do to her?” demanded McGonagall as Hermione’s tumbling knocked over a small table, breaking it. Hermione muttered an “oops” and quickly performed a Repair Charm on the broken table.
“I… I just used a Cheering Charm on her,” admitted Harry.
Hermione giggled as she transfigured the table into a dozen tiny, miniscule red elephants.
“How many Cheering Charms did you use on her?” McGonagall asked incredulously.
Unable to answer McGonagall, Harry pointed his wand at Hermione, who was frantically chasing the tiny red elephants around the room.
“/Finite/!” Harry commanded.
Hermione slowed her frantic chase to a trot, but was still giggling like a school-girl.
“/Finite/!” he shouted again.
It was at this point that Hermione seemed to lose interest with the pack of puny pachyderms and started to hop like a bunny toward McGonagall, a bunny with her beautiful bare bum hanging out of her pants.
“/Finite/!”
The hop changed into a skip.
“/Finite/!”
The skip was replaced by a saunter, a saunter with a bounce to it, mind you.
“/Finite/!”
Her bouncy saunter disappeared as Hermione finally reached McGonagall. Harry could tell by the glow in Hermione’s cheeks (both sets, he thought wickedly) and the goofy grin on her face that she was still under the effects of his super-charged Cheering Charm, but he reckoned that it would be close enough.
“I’m sorry Professor,” Hermione said with a chuckle as she hiked up her slacks, covering her bum. This made Harry a tad disappointed. He rather liked seeing her bottom.
“It’s quite alright, Hermione,” replied McGonagall. “I was young and in love once, too.”
It was at this point that McGonagall focused on Harry and the message on his pajamas. She then gave Harry the same saucy smile she had given him the other day. It was like someone had dumped a very large bucket of ice water on his head.
“And speaking of love,” McGonagall said to Hermione, oblivious to Harry’s discomfort, “I thought it would be best if you had a look at today’s /Prophet/.”
The Headmistress pulled a rolled up copy of the newspaper out of her robes and handed it to Hermione.
“Is there anything wrong, Professor?” Harry asked as Hermione took the Prophet from the Headmistress. Harry noted that when she took the paper from McGonagall, Hermione was guffawing softly and he swore he heard her mutter a word that Hermione would never say. But he could have sworn he heard her mutter the word “/gimmie/.”
“Oh, not at all. The Prophet is merely reporting Harry’s declaration he made during the reception yesterday,” McGonagall answered. “I’ll leave you two alone,” with that, McGonagall left the Common Room.
Harry gasped in fear. He had totally forgotten to warn Hermione about his outburst. And now, she was going to hear about it from the /Daily Prophet/!
“What declaration?” Hermione asked as she started to read the front page.
“I’m sorry Hermione,” Harry rapidly spoke. “I kind of told Ron — and everyone else — that I’m in love with -”
“Draco,” Hermione interrupted.
“Yes – What? – NO!” Harry sputtered, stunned.
Hermione started to read the article that adorned the front page of the Daily Prophet/. Of course, since she was still under the effect of the super-charged Cheering Charm, she read it in a silly voice. “‘/The //Chosen/ One announces his forbidden love!’/
“‘/During the Delacour/Weasley wedding yesterday, Harry Potter (The Boy Who Lived, The /Chosen/ One, and Dumbledore’s Man, Through and Through) announced his undying love for novice Death Eater and all-around bad-boy, Draco Malfoy.'”/
“WHAT?” Harry screamed. He could swear that he could hear McGonagall laughing in the hall.
“‘/Stunned guests witnessed as Potter proudly stated that he was in love with the wizard who helped Death Eaters invade Hogwarts.'”/ Hermione continued to read in her giddy voice. “‘/Potter shouted “I don’t care who knows anymore, I’m in love with Draco!”‘/
“Bu… bu… bu… but I’m not gay!” Harry defended himself. “Even if I were, I could never be attracted to Draco. I don’t know where anyone would get that notion. I hate the little ferret.”
“Well, it looks like they’ve got an explanation for that,” Hermione said while trying to fight a fit of laughter. “/’Fred and George Weasley (brothers of the groom) who attended Hogwarts with Potter gave us some insight to Potter and Malfoy’s relationship: “Every time we played a Quidditch match against Slytherin, Draco and Harry would always go for each other’s throats…” Fred told us’/
“/’Yeah, everyone could tell their aggressiveness towards each other was just unresolved sexual tension,” George concluded.'”/
“I-am-going-to-kill-them!” Harry hissed.
“‘Another classmate of Potter, Dean Thomas, informed, “I swear I saw the two of them snogging in the halls last year.””
/ /”Right after I kill him,” Harry hissed again.
“Alas, does this mean we’re over Harry,” Hermione asked with overly-dramatic and obviously fake sadness and dropped the Prophet on the table. “I don’t think I could share you with another man!”
“Oh, shut it!” Harry moaned dejectedly and flopped on the couch. “How’d this happen?”
“Well, you know how this newspaper never gets anything right,” Hermione attempted to console him. Her attempt to comfort him was difficult however seeing that she was still chuckling.
“I know that,” Harry stated and Hermione sat down next to him. “But why would my friends say that about me?”
“That’s simple. As to Fred and George, they did it as a joke,” Hermione explained and then added under her breath “a bloody good one at that.” She then said “And Dean, well he probably did it because you did steal his girlfriend last year.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess I deserved that last bit,” Harry said.
“The girlfriend who happened to look like your mum,” Hermione added. Harry groaned pitifully and Hermione muttered “sicko.”
Hermione pecked Harry’s cheek and announced, “We have an hour or so before Ron gets here and I have something we can do in the mean time. A deviously clever idea struck me while I was under your Cheering Charm.”
“An idea about what?” asked Harry.
“Revenge,” heralded Hermione. She then stood and declared in a very dramatic way: “Revenge against Remus and Tonks!”
Hermione spent the next twenty minutes gathering potion supplies and explaining her plan to Harry.
“I was inspired by Remus’ prank where he used a theory for one spell but used it on a different spell, causing a completely unheard of effect for the latter,” Hermione spoke very rapidly as she threw several ingredients in the simmering cauldron. “I asked myself ‘why don’t we do the same thing? Combine two different things and hit those two with it?’ So, I decided to mix two different potions, a mild Lust Potion and an Infelix Infaustus potion. The Infelix Infaustus potion does the exact opposite of the Felix Felicis, instead of giving the drinker good luck, they’re plagued with bad luck. My theory is that when we combine the Lust and Bad Luck potions, the victims -Remus and Tonks – will have bouts of lowered inhibitions at inappropriate times and places.”
“You lost me at ‘/I was inspired/…'” Harry admitted as he watched his girlfriend stir the contents of the cauldron.
“Remus and Tonks will be molesting each other, much like I did to you when I was under the influence of Ginny’s Lust Potion,” Hermione explained in simpler terms. “But they will be doing it at the most inappropriate times and places. Imagine the next Order of the Phoenix meeting; Molly will be going over the minutes from the last meeting and Tonks will mount Remus right then and there!”
“They’ll be mortified!” exclaimed Harry.
“They’ll never live it down!” proclaimed Hermione.
“They’ll never be able to show their faces in public again!” added Harry.
“Excellent!” both teens gloriously cried out.
Hermione cackled and put in the final ingredient. She carefully poured the contents of the cauldron into a glass vial. “Now all we have to do is sprinkle this over something they’ll eat or into their drinks.”
“How about we sprinkle it over their tea supply?” offered Harry.
“Wonderful! That way they’ll have to deal with the effects whenever they have tea! They will be pranked continually, and not know how!”
The sound of the portrait of the Fad Lady opening drew their attention to the entrance to the Common Room. A silent and sullen Ron Weasley walked in.
“Um, hi Ron,” Harry nervously greeted his hopefully still best mate.
“Hiya Harry… Hermione,” he responded in a quiet and apprehensive way. Hermione weakly waved at her former “we’re together” friend. And those four words, well four words and an “/Um/” sound, were the only things said for a very long minute. During that minute, the trio busied themselves in various ways; Hermione seemed to be fascinated by a strand of her own hair and inspected it closely. Ron appeared to be counting the dust specks on the chandelier above their heads (which was still swinging slightly due to Hermione impromptu impersonation of Tarzan) while Harry was literarily twiddling his thumbs trying his best not to look at anyone or anything in particular.
“Ooh, this is maddening!” announced Hermione, finally breaking the awkward silence. “I never meant to hurt you Ron, it just that…”
“I know, I know,” Ron said. “I did a lot of thinking about what Harry said, and it made sense. In the long run, I don’t think it would’ve worked out. It still hurts a little, but I think that it would’ve hurt a lot more if we had been together longer and then realize that we wouldn’t work out. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Hermione, taken back at Ron’s surprising amount of insight.
“And I reckon that it will hurt a little seeing the two of you together for a bit, but if it makes you two happy then I’m happy.” Ron concluded.
“Thanks mate, that means a lot,” Harry said, his heart feeling a little lighter.
“Besides I should’ve seen this coming, the two of you hooking up. I mean, look at all the stuff you two have done together,” Ron stated. “You both went into the Forbidden Forest in our first year while I was stuck in the Hospital Ward. Then there was the Time Turner Adventure you had in our third year where you saved Sirius and rode Buckbeak. And in our fifth, you two went into the Forest twice together and then when we split up in the Department of Mysteries, you two were still a team.”
A genuine smile appeared on both Ron and Harry’s faces as they shook hands, renewing their friendship. Hermione then hugged their tall friend. As she pulled away from him, Ron looked at her red eye and asked “Were you hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse?”
Hermione snorted in a very un-lady-like fashion and Harry’s heart sunk as he realized the awkward situation of the talk with Ron had forced Hermione to suppress the urges she was feeling from the super-charged Cheering Charm. Apparently, since the awkwardness of the talk had passed, the effects of the super-charged Cheering Charm kicked in once again.
“My eye is red because Harry came in it,” informed Hermione with a chuckle.
Harry gaped with his mouth open in shock at Ron. Hermione had just blurted out how far their relationship had progressed and Harry was fearful of Ron’s reaction. You see, Ron was prone to bouts of jealously and anger. And Harry worried that Ron would react badly because Ron was basically just told that Hermione had given Harry a hand-job. But thankfully, Ron was also prone to bouts of denseness.
“What do you mean?” Ron asked, dumbfounded. “How can someone come into your eye?”
Before Harry could defuse the situation, Hermione answered Ron’s question, “Not ‘into’, in. And it’s quite simple: Bad aim, that’s how.”
Ron stared at his two best friends in bewilderment for a moment. Then slowly, understanding dawned in his eyes.
“SHE NEVER DID THAT WITH ME!”
“Pfft,” Hermione countered – if one could call a “pfft” noise a counterpoint. “I never did /any/thing with you.”
Hermione then proceeded to attempt to once more lower Harry’s pants. Luckily, Harry seized hold of his trousers before Hermione could tug them down.
“What the hell is wrong with her?” Ron asked Harry.
“I hit her with a super-charged Cheering Charm,” Harry tried to inform his friend while wrestling for control of his pants with Hermione.
“You hit her with a super-charged Cheering Charm by cumming in her eye?” demanded Ron.
“No, no, no,” Harry stammered. He was beginning to lose the battle over his pants and he was quite worried that Ron was about to formally meet ‘Harry, Jr.’ “No, we performed a ritual to find the Horcruxes…”
Harry paused as he started to feel the fabric of his pants slip away.
“And you performed this ritual by cumming in her eye?” Ron asked, still trying to follow the chain of events.
“No,” Hermione answered and thankfully gave up in her quest to expose ‘Harry, Jr.’ and walked over to stand in front of Ron. “I found a ritual in a dirty little book Harry was trying to hide from me.” Of course, Hermione was speaking very rapidly. “The ritual required me to wank his willy,” Hermione paused momentarily to make a rude hand gesture to Ron, as if she needed to give the red-haired wizard a visual reference to what she was talking about. “Well, then we had an out of body experience where we found the location of all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, but the ritual ended when Harry came. Unfortunately, he cummed in my eye, duh!” She accentuated this point by leaning very close to Ron so that he could inspect the eye in question.
“And as to the reason I’m acting so strangely,” Hermione continued after she believed that Ron had inspected her red-eye enough. “Harry informed me that there was more to the prophesy concerning he and Voldemort than just ‘me against him’ and it dealt with a power Harry has that Voldemort doesn’t even know about. And apparently that power is love and so I decided to see how much his love affected simple charms and spells. So we did a little experiment with a Cheering Charm and ‘lo and behold you have a very hyper-active Hermione. Harry has tried to cancel out the charm, but what he doesn’t realized is that he had so much power in the charm that he’ll have to tap into his love-core again to cancel it completely. That or hit me with a dozen or so more ‘Finites'”
“Oh, okay. So when are we going to Godric’s Hollow and start looking for the Horcruxes?” Ron asked, abruptly changing subjects, obviously pretending that not only had he understood what Hermione had said, but that she was acting completely normal.
“How about now?” asked Harry, equally trying to pretend that Hermione’s actions were normal.
“Why not?” Ron agreed.
“Fine, but let’s stop by Remus and Tonks’ place first,” Hermione said with a knowing look in her eye – well her one good eye that is. “Just to let them know we’re going on a trip.”
“Alright, before we leave let’s go to the kitchen and get some food,” Harry said. “I’m famished.”
“Wait. First, I have some ‘f/orgive me I was such a berk/’ presents to give you two,” Ron said as he started to reach in his robes.
“Ron that’s not necessary,” Hermione said gently.
“It’s something I feel I need to do, is all,” stated Ron and he pulled out a single yellow rose and handed it to Hermione. “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Of course we are,” Hermione said with tears of happiness in her eyes and she hugged Ron again. After they broke apart, Ron pulled a box out of his robes and handed it to Harry.
“Here you go Harry,” Ron said as Harry took the box. “I had it made for you this morning. I hope it fits.”
Harry opened the box to find a bright pink pullover with the words “Draco’s Little Princess” embroidered on it.
“I think Draco would like that,” Hermione said with a chuckle as she examined the shirt over Harry’s shoulder. Harry groaned and looked at Ron who appeared to on the verge of laughter.
“Ha, ha, let it out you two,” Harry said mirthlessly.
“Do you think that Harry would be the Keeper or the Chaser?” Ron asked. “I think he’d be the Keeper in the relationship.”
“Oh, yes, I can totally see that,” Hermione answered. “Draco is very aggressive, so that would make him the dominant of the pair.”
This playful ribbing continued as the trio went to the kitchens and grabbed some food. Dobby made it a point to say goodbye to Harry and if they needed anything that they shouldn’t hesitate to call on the little House-Elf. As Harry left the kitchen, he absently noted that Kreacher was no where to be seen.
After they left the castle grounds, Hermione turned to Harry and demanded “Lift this Charm off of me this instant! I refuse to go any further until I am normal. It’s taking too much effort to restrain myself right now. And I’m afraid that I’ll lose my concentration in the middle of a large crowd of people.”
“Okay, /Finite/.” Harry said after he pointed his wand at her.
“No Harry!” Hermione exclaimed gleefully. “I told you earlier you will have to hit me with a dozen more Finites or one loved powered Finite!”
“You did?” he asked.
“Yes, remember when I was explaining our situation to Ron?”
“Um, no, not really,” Harry responded honestly. In Harry’s defense, she had been speaking rather rapidly earlier.
“Well, tap into your love-core so I can be normal again,” demanded Hermione.
Harry paused and focused on how he felt for his girlfriend and muttered “/Finite.”/
With a sigh, Hermione acknowledged that she had finally returned to normal.
The trio signaled for the Knight Bus. With a loud BANG, the triple decked bus appeared in front of them. Harry, Hermione, and Ron got on and took the Knight Bus to Remus’ cottage.
“Wothcher, kids,” Tonks greeted them as she answered the door. “Come inside.”
Tonks led the group to the small front room where Remus was reading The Quibbler.
“Hello, you three,” Remus greeted. “What brings you here?”
“Oh, just wanted to stop by before we head off to Godric’s Hollow,” informed Harry.
Remus and Tonks shared a concerned look.
“Pardon me, but may I use the bathroom?” Hermione interjected.
“Of course you can, Hermione.” Tonks answered.
Hermione winked at Harry before disappearing around the corner. Harry had some difficulty controlling his joy at the thought of Remus and Tonks embarrassing themselves due to Hermione’s ingenious plan of revenge.
“Now Harry, I want to warn you about what you’ll find at Godric’s Hollow,” said Remus, the concern in his voice was obvious to anyone who was paying attention. However, Harry wasn’t paying attention. His mind was filled with images of the humiliated pair of Tonks and Remus.
“Joseph Middwood was the man Lily and James hired to be the house’s caretaker,” Remus continued and Harry nodded his head as if he understood what the older wizard had said. “And he has done… some questionable things since your parents died…”
Harry almost laughed out loud as a mental image of Remus and Tonks sitting at the dinner table at the Burrow entered his mind. He imagined Molly setting the main course in front of Remus. The werewolf then looked up at Molly and thanked her before shoving his hand down Tonks’ blouse to squeeze her tit. In Harry’s mind, Molly then gasped as Tonks whipped out Remus’ willy and started to wank him off.
“… and apparently, he thought he deserved more money…” Remus continued to speak. And Harry continued to ignore him.
Harry gleefully imagined another mortifying predicament caused by Hermione’s Bad Lust potion. In his mind’s eye, Harry saw Remus stop by the Ministry of Magic to drop off some lunch for Tonks. He imagined them talking for a bit about inconsequential things, but the moment that Tonks’ supervisor happened to stop by, all hell would break loose. Harry fought the urge to chuckle at the imagined shocked expression on Tonks’ boss’s face when Remus put his willy in-between the pink haired witch’s boobs and began to whack himself off with her mounds.
Another image suddenly popped in Harry’s mind driving the current scenario from his imagination. Instead of Remus giving Tonks a good old fashion titty-fuck, Harry saw himself in the same position, but with Hermione and her wondrous breasts being the stars. He wondered momentarily if Hermione would ever agree to such an activity. He didn’t think that she would agree to such a thing just for the pleasure of it; but remembering his sore bottom and how moist and musky her knickers were from earlier, Harry realized that his girlfriend was a touch kinky. He even considered momentarily using his super-charged Cheering Charm just to bring that naughty girl out once more, but quickly put that thought aside. He could never use Hermione. He loved her and would never intentionally force her to lower her inhibitions for his pleasure. Hopefully, he thought, a ritual would be in the ‘/special book’/ which would require him putting ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ between Hermione’s beautiful boobs. He felt ‘/Harry, Jr./’ began to stir at the thought of getting the opportunity to frolic with ‘/Carmella/’ and ‘/Natasha/’.
“… I’ve tried talking with Joseph.” Remus sighed dejectedly before continuing. “But he won’t listen to reason.”
The magnificent image of Harry giving Hermione his own special pearl necklace was sadly replaced by another vision of a “Bad Lust” attack. The image this time focused on Tonks taking Remus to visit her folks. Remus gave Mrs. Tonks a kiss as a greeting and shook Mr. Tonks’ hand like a gentleman before Remus began humping their daughter’s leg like a rabid dog – or in Remus’ case — a wolf. Granted, Harry found this image humorous, but he found the image of a naked Hermione underneath him much more preferable.
“… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now,” concluded Remus. “I just wanted to prepare you for what you’ll find there.”
“Oh, thanks Remus,” Harry responded, absentmindedly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
What he’ll keep in mind was a total mystery to Harry since he hadn’t heard a word that Remus had said.
“Sorry about that,” Hermione began as she reentered the room. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing important,” replied Harry. Hermione gave him a look that clearly told him that the mission was accomplished. Soon, very soon, Tonks would be jumping Remus’ bones and their revenge will be complete!
“All right then, I guess we should be going,” Hermione announced.
“Okay, see you three later,” Remus bid them farewell. But before Harry could turn and leave, Remus said to Tonks: “Tonks, love.”
“Yes, sweetie,” she replied.
“Remind me to throw away the tea,” Remus said as he picked up The Quibbler and started to read it once more. “Hermione spiked it while pretending to use the loo.”
“Yes dear,” Tonks replied nonchalantly as if their tea supply was often spiked and she was rather bored with the chore of throwing it away.
“Why would she spike your tea?” Ron asked.
Harry could feel his eye twitch. His dream of revenge was destroyed before it even started. Remus just killed his dream. Harry looked at Hermione and saw that her eye was twitching as well.
“Just for a prank,” Remus said to Ron.
“But… but…. But how’d you know?” stammered Hermione.
“I have wards up all over the house, and they alert me if something gets disturbed.” Remus answered. “You two will have to come up with better ideas if you want to pull a practical joke on me. Remember, I am a Marauder after all.”
“DAMN IT!” Harry cursed and stomped out of the cottage. Hermione followed, grumbling under her breath. Ron silently followed, not realizing all the trouble his friends had been through.
“Oi, Hermione,” Tonks called out from the house to the trio as Harry signaled for the Knight Bus. “Next time, turn your head. That way you avoid getting it in your eye!” Hermione shot Tonks a dirty look with her one good eye as the pink haired witch continued to taunt; “Oh, and Harry, don’t forget to give Draco a kiss for me!”
The purple bus appeared with a bang and Harry gloomily walked on.
“Godric’s Hollow,” Harry told the driver. Harry sat on a chair in the back after paying the driver and Hermione and Ron soon joined him.
“Why were you trying to prank Remus,” Ron asked.
“He pranked us first,” Harry blurted out not realizing that he would have to describe the prank to Ron. Even though Ron was being a sport concerning Harry and Hermione’s relationship, Harry didn’t want to aggravate Ron by telling him the whole “/Tonks caught me eating out Hermione while you thought you two were still a couple and then Remus pranked us by making us believe the Ministry made flyers describing the scene Tonks saw/” ordeal. So, as quickly as he could, Harry made up a prank that wouldn’t possibly rile Ron. “Remus called me a poopie head.”
Hermione slapped her head in annoyance at Harry’s poor cover-up.
“Really? A ‘/poopie-head’/?” Ron asked; thankfully Ron wasn’t the brightest person in the world. “You’d think a Marauder would come up with a better prank than that.”
Hermione slapped her head again; this time in annoyance to Ron’s stupidity.
“I mean ‘/poopie-head’/ isn’t even funny,” Ron continued, unmindful of Hermione’s vexation. “I thought the Marauders were supposed to be the best pranksters to ever attend Hogwarts. But /’poopie-head’/?” Ron concluded by shaking his head in a disappointed way. “Fred and George would be so disappointed.”
Harry began to grow concerned. Not only was his friend digging into the very unlikely excuse, but worse, Ron appeared to believe it. Harry truly wondered how Ron could be that gullible and trusting.
“But there’s something I don’t understand,” Ron said. “Why would you want to prank Remus back if he called you a ‘/poopie-head/’? I mean, why bother? You could just call him a ‘/berk’/ and be done with it.”
Worrying that his friend might finally deduce that the “poopie-head” story was just a cover-up for the “I got caught eating out Hermione,” Harry decided to divert Ron’s attention.
“Hey, we found where the Horcruxes are hidden!” announced Harry.
“That’s right!” Ron responded. “Where are they?”
“Harry!” hissed Hermione. With a tilt of her head, she indicated a group of four wizards sitting near the front of the Bus. “Do you want them to hear this conversation?”
Harry doubted that they had heard him mention the horcruxes, but he knew that Hermione was right. Discreetly pulling out his wand, Harry pointed it at the group of wizards and muttered: “Muffliato!”
The Muffliato Charm was designed to fill the ears of the people who were hit with it to have their hearing filled with unidentifiable buzzing sounds. It was a simple charm that would allow Harry and his friends to talk without being overheard. It was also a charm that wouldn’t harm anyone. Harry hated to admit it, but Snape did make some useful spells.
The Muffliato Charm wouldn’t harm anyone unless the caster had gone and unwittingly performed a power boosting ritual, much like Harry had.
“OH SWEET MERLIN!” the first wizard shouted while frantically looking around him. “ARE WE UNDER ATTACK FROM MONSTROUSLY HUGE BEES?”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” the second wizard screamed at the first.
“THE AGONY OF TINNIUS!” the third hollered while clutching his ears.
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” the fourth wizard yelled.
Both Ron and Hermione shot looks at Harry as the four wizards continued to frantically scream and shout. Ron’s look told Harry that the red head was confused and didn’t understand why such a simple and harmless charm had created such havoc. However, Hermione’s look was different; it clearly told Harry that she was very upset with him.
“What’s going on?” Ron hollered as the first wizard continued to warn everyone around him at the top of his lung about the impending bee attack. “Why are they acting like that? The Muffliato shouldn’t cause that type of reaction!”
“Because Harry forgot he performed a power-boosting ritual!” yelled Hermione.
“What?” shouted Ron over the cries of the four unknown wizards.
“Harry performed a power-boosting ritual!” she yelled louder.
“WHAT?”
“HE PERFORMED A POWER-BOOSTING RITUAL!!!” screamed Hermione, her face had turned a bright red as she shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Oh, how’d you do it?” Ron asked Harry rather loudly.
Sharing a concerned look with Harry, Hermione began to sputter: “We… um… he… err… well…”
Harry noticed that Ron was trying his best to hear what Hermione was muttering but he could tell that Ron couldn’t hear anything she was saying over the shouts and screams of the four wizards. Harry shouted to Ron “NEVER MIND, IT ISN’T IMPORTANT.”
“ALRIGHT!” Ron shouted and asked “WHERE ARE THE HORCRUXES?”
Hermione must have realized that it would’ve been very difficult to tell Ron the locations of the Horcruxes over the four wizards’ screams so she pulled some parchment out of her robes along with a quill and scratched out some notes. After a moment, she showed Harry the note and shouted in his ear so that he could hear what she was asking: “Does this look right to you?”
Harry quickly read the parchment.
“Slytherin’s locket was at Borgin & Burkes, but was sold to an unknown wizard.
An unknown item is hidden under the orphanage where Riddle was raised.
Hufflepuff’s cup is at number twelve, //Grimmauld Place//. (R. A. B. was Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother)
Voldemort, the final Horcrux.”
Harry silently nodded his head in approval and handed Hermione’s note to Ron. After reading the note once (which took an abnormally long amount of time), Ron reread it again, this time, it appeared that he was counting off the Horcruxes. With a perplexed and somewhat pained look (Harry couldn’t tell if the pained expression on his face was due to the fact that he just had to read something that wasn’t homework or Quidditch related or not), Ron attempted to ask Harry and Hermione a question. Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t hear what he was saying over the four wizards who were now panicking.
“To hell with this,” Harry muttered and pointed his wand at the wizards. “/Finite/”
“Thank heaven,” the first wizard exclaimed as he sat back down. “The monstrously huge bees have called off their attack”
“I’ve been cured!” the third wizard cried out.
The other two wizards sat down and appeared to be pretending as if nothing unusual had just happened.
“What was that Ron?” asked Hermione.
“There’s only four,” Ron answered.
“So?” asked Harry.
“Well including the diary that you destroyed in second year and the ring that Dumbledore destroyed last year; that only makes six.” Ron explained. “I thought there was supposed to be seven of them?”
Harry and Hermione were taken back for two reasons; firstly, Ron was correct in the fact that they were one Horcrux short. And the second and more shocking reason; Ron was correct.
“Maybe we did the ritual wrong,” speculated Hermione. “Perhaps we should do it again.”
Harry’s heart leapt up at the thought of Hermione’s small hands wrapped around ‘Harry, Jr.’ and a goofy grin stretched across his face.
“Maybe I could do it too?” Ron asked hopefully.
The goofy grin quickly disappeared from Harry’s face and he glowered at his friend. ‘What the hell is he implying?’ Harry thought.
“Just what are you implying, Ron?” Hermione demanded, scandalized.
“What? Wait?” Ron sputtered, noticing the shocked looks of his friends. “What’s wrong with me wanting to help? Why can’t I do the ritual?”
“Ron, weren’t you listening to me back in the Common Room? Hermione asked. “I told you: Harry and I performed a… sex based ritual. That’s why ‘not you’!”
“Oh god, no, Hermione,” Ron replied quickly. “Um… No, what I mean is that no I didn’t really pay atten… that is understand you back there. But why can’t I do the ritual? Not with you Hermione. I was thinking about giving Lav-Lav another go.”
“What? Lavender Brown?” Hermione screeched, obviously upset with Ron and his choice of witches. Harry was just glad he wasn’t propositioning Hermione. He loved Ron like a brother, but he had no intention of sharing Hermione with him. “She is a bubble-headed, silly girl,” Hermione continued. “You will not date her again.”
“Why not?” asked Ron.
“Because the only thing you two had in common was over-active hormones!”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes!” Hermione called out. “You cannot have a relationship built strictly on lust, you have to have a relationship, a truly deep and meaningful connection. Like Harry and I do.”
Harry tuned out his friends’ argument; ‘if you’ve hear them argue once, you’ve heard them enough’ he rationalized. His mind drifted back to Godric’s Hollow, the place where he and his family once lived. His heart was filled with anticipation and trepidation at the thought of visiting the house where he was born and where his parents were killed.
“The only way that I will allow you to even contemplate participating in any ritual,” Hermione stated with authority, “will be after Harry and I find you a proper girl you can date.
“And that is final!” Hermione concluded, ending the argument.
The Bus suddenly stopped and a witch with four young children climbed on board. “Godric’s Hollow, please,” she said to the driver.
Harry was a little more than taken back; she wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow like he did. Ever since he had first heard of Godric’s Hollow, Harry had assumed that it was the name of the house he and his parents had lived in. Harry looked over to Hermione, who appeared to be having the same quandary as he. Ron however, was still concentrating over Hermione’s dictate.
“I don’t see why I can’t have a say in who I’m allowed to date,” Ron muttered sullenly. “At least let me have some input, please Hermione?” he pleaded.
“Perhaps, if you behave yourself,” Hermione conceded, simply to stop the discussion.
Maybe, Harry thought, Godric’s Hollow was the name of the village where his parents had lived. This seemed very possible because the Bus stopped again and the people who got on also wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow. It seemed very feasible until Ron spoke up and said: “I haven’t been here since I was a kid. I know it’s kind of lame now that I’ve grown, but it’s still cool.” He then added very excitedly; “I can’t wait to ride the stairway again!”
Before Harry or Hermione could ask Ron what he had meant, the Bus came to a screeching halt and the driver announced, “Godric’s Hollow.” Harry was the first of the trio to exit the Bus, and what he saw made him almost faint.
Harry stood in front of a large grey warehouse. There were a number of wizards and witches with their children that had formed a queue waiting to get into the building. This wasn’t all that shocking, but the flashing sign hanging above the entrance to the warehouse was the thing that made Harry almost faint. The sign stated:
“Welcome to Godric’s Hollow; Home of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived! Watch Mr. and Mrs. Potter as they bravely try to fight off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Marvel at the miracle of You-Know-Who’s downfall!
Ticket Prices:
Adults: 3 knuts
Children (11 and under) 2 knuts
Seniors (80 and older) 2 knuts.”
“Excuse me, but either join the queue or get out of the way please,” a witch with three children said to Harry as she pushed her way past him. The witch then stepped in the back of a line that went from the street where Harry had stepped off of the Bus to the entrance.
From inside the warehouse, Harry could hear shouts of excitement, cries of fear, and various explosions.
“What the bloody hell is this?” Hermione asked, giving voice to Harry’s internal question.
“It’s just a tourist ride,” Ron explained, ignorant to the shock Harry was experiencing.
Harry wanted to hurt somebody. Hurt them very, very badly. He didn’t care who that somebody was; he needed someone to hurt, very, very badly. Then Ron had the misfortune to offer “Hey I know, since I didn’t get you a birthday present, how ’bout I buy you a glowing ‘/baby Harry/’?”
And the somebody that Harry needed to hurt very, very badly was going to be Ron.
To be continued.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter One
Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money either.
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 One Summary: Harry receives a helping… hand in his quest for Voldemort’s Horcuxes.
——————————————————————————–
As the sun crept into the smallest bedroom in the house at # 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter fought the urge to wake up. Harry was having a nice pleasant dream. He dreamt that he was sitting on the shore of the ocean with his feet in the cool water, while reading a book about lighthouses. Two odd things about the dream stood out for Harry. The first was that he couldn’t place where he was in the dream, but it was somewhere between two hills with high peaks. And the second odd thing was that he could clearly smell the book he was reading but couldn’t smell the ocean; the book had an enticing musky odor to it. It was an curious dream, but Harry liked it because the horrors of his past weren’t revisiting him like they usually did during his normal dreams. The young wizard wanted to stay in this slumber-land for just a little longer. Of course, the sun had different plans and one cannot argue with the sun when its horrible, golden, life-giving rays are pounding down upon one’s face now can they? Lousy effing sun.
With a pitiful groan, Harry slowly woke up. He continued to lie in bed as he looked up at the ceiling without his glasses for a good long time. After he was satisfied that the ceiling had been stared at long enough, and after he had gotten thoroughly bored with said activity, Harry surveyed the room and it contents for a moment until his blurry eyes fell on his tiny desk. The desk was littered with bits of parchment, old newspapers and a number of framed photos.
His eyes tried unsuccessfully to focus on a picture of what appeared to be himself, Hermione, and Ron taken around their first year at Hogwarts. His vision then slipped to a picture of a raven haired man snuggling on a couch with a red-haired woman. Harry’s heart sank as his mind replayed his short relationship with that red-haired woman. At the beginning of his sixth year, Harry finally noticed that Ginny was a woman, a beautiful one at that, with boobs and bouncing, shiny hair. Of course he had to end the fledgling relationship at the end of the school year for Ginny’s safety. Harry knew that anyone who he considered his girlfriend would be a target for Voldemort and his asslick… err… that is bootlickers. He hated hurting Ginny’s feelings and being lonely himself, but it had to be done, for her sake.
After lying in his bed while somehow simultaneously berating and congratulating himself on his decision to break up with Ginny, Harry forced himself to get up. The young wizard stood and stretched his arms. After wiping the sleep from his eyes, Harry finally put on his glasses and took note of the time. It was barely half past six in the morning and his relatives wouldn’t be up for a little while. Not that it mattered anyway; his Aunt, Uncle and cousin had done their best to ignore Harry these past few weeks, and he did the same to them. It was mutually beneficial. Of course, Harry knew that the Dursleys were planning a very large “going away” party the day after his birthday, the day after he was supposed to leave their house forever.
His eyes fell back to the picture of Ginny and himself on the desk and Harry’s heart stopped beating for one full second. The man in the picture looked exactly like he did and the woman looked very similar to Ginny. The only problem was that it wasn’t Harry and Ginny snuggling in the picture. It was Harry’s mum and dad, Lily and James. Harry broke out in a cold sweat as a sudden realization dawned upon him:
‘Ginny looks like my mum!’
He’d lusted after a girl who physically reminded him of his mother!
Harry a spent a good portion of the previous school year snogging a girl that looked like his mother! Harry felt very ill. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Freud giggling like a school-boy at the thought of Harry being attracted to a girl who looked like his mother! The room started to spin wildly and last night’s dinner threatened to escape his body in ways it wasn’t supposed to.
After rushing to the bathroom, Harry emptied his entire stomach into the toilet. ‘That’s odd; I don’t remember having corn last night.’ His mind kept remembering what Ginny’s (the woman who looked like his mother) lips felt like when he kissed them. That’s when the dry heaves kicked in. Harry tried to wretch some more but there was nothing left to vomit. An image of him cupping Ginny’s small breast ripped through his mind and a small thought was attached to that image: ‘Were mum’s tits like that?’
“Holy Christ!” Harry shouted and banged his head against the toilet in a futile attempt to rid his mind of the troubling images him fondling a girl who looked like his mother! That or knock himself out, which ever came first.
He suddenly felt very, very, very dirty. He remembered how aroused he was when Ginny had shoved her tongue into his mouth, but Harry now thought idly if his mother’s tongue moved like Ginny’s. Then the most horrid of question’s entered the young man’s mind: “If Ginny looks like my mother, does she taste like her, too?’
Harry groaned pitifully as he snatched a toothbrush off the counter. It could’ve been Dudley’s but Harry didn’t care (the corpulent boy hardly used it anyway). He squeezed a sizable dollop of tooth-paste on the bristles and began to brush vigorously. After Harry had used up half the tube of tooth-paste and thirty-five minutes of aggressively brushing his teeth, gums, and tongue, his cousin Dudley walked into the bathroom. The enormously fat boy looked in horror at the site (1) before him: his freak of a relative was hunched over the basin with a copious amount of foam covering the lower half of his face and dripping from his mouth.
Harry turned to his cousin and tried to shout: “GET OUT OF HERE!” Unfortunately, because of all the foam in his mouth, all Harry could muster was something like “GHTE TOOUE OV HERGELTH!” A fortunate side effect of this outburst was that Dudley’s rotund face was coated with spittle and mint-scented foam as Harry spat and sprayed his demand. Harry could hear Dudley screaming like a terrified little girl as he ran down the stairs, out of the house, and into the street in his pajamas and fuzzy slippers.
After a scalding hot shower where Harry not only used up the hot water from # 4, but conceivably the rest of the block’s hot water as well, Harry walked into his room and saw something quite unusual. He saw a ghost with what looked like leather armor sitting on his bed. Harry had never seen a ghost outside of school, but the most peculiar thing about this ghost was that he was somehow holding the most recent edition of The Sun newspaper, even though ghosts couldn’t hold anything normally. But the oddest thing was that the unknown spirit had it opened to the infamous Page Three.
“Oh yeah, that’s what I like,” the ghost said lustfully, unaware that Harry had entered the room. “I bet you liked to be spanked don’t you, you saucy wench!”
“Um, excuse me…” interjected Harry, but the ghost ignored him as he continued to ogle the young topless nymph on the page.
“Cor, look at those nibblers! Poor thing must be cold…” grunted the ghost as his right hand left the newspaper and started to reach for his lap.
“EXCUSE ME!” shouted Harry in a mortified tone. The ghost lowered The Sun and looked at Harry. The specter grinned at him and stood up. Thankfully for the young wizard, the ghost used The Sun as a crotch guard so that his “state” was hidden from sight from the already overwrought wizard.
“Sorry ’bout that, Harry. You were taking so long in the shower, and a man has needs you know…” stated the ghost. Harry was taken back that this strange ghost knew his name. “Sorry about the scare, how are you boy?” asked the ghost.
“I’m fine,” answered Harry and then asked; “who are you?”
“Oh, I’m just grand thanks for asking,” replied the unknown ghost. “That’s very nice of you; you know, too many folk these days are so rude.”
“Pardon, but I didn’t ask ‘how are you,’ I asked ‘who are you?'” Harry repeated, a bit irritated.
“Oh, sorry ’bout that,” the ghost responded completely perplexed and a little offended. “You don’t recognize me?” to which Harry shook his head, “What, did you fall asleep in History of Magic?”
“Yes,” responded Harry, “quite often actually.”
“Well, I’m Godric Gryffindor!” the ghost replied theatrically and struck a heroic pose.
Harry was a bit awestruck; here was the ghost of Gryffindor, one of the founders of the finest Wizarding School in the world standing in Harry’s tiny bedroom. Harry’s reverence quickly turned into disgust as he noticed that when Gryffindor struck his heroic pose that he dropped his newspaper and that it was apparent that the ghost was still aroused. Harry held his hand in front of his face in an attempt to block the ghost’s crotch from view.
“Um, what do you want?” Harry asked, quite disturbed that he now knew with certainty due to the ghost’s partial arousal that Godric Gryffindor “dressed right.”
“Well aren’t you gonna ask how I am?” the ghost questioned.
“I already did,” Harry retorted, “and you said you were ‘just grand.'”
“No, you asked who I was, not how I was. It was an understandable mistake on my part seeing how you young people tend to mutter.”
“I don’t mutter,” Harry muttered.
“I think we should proceed with formalities before I continue,” Gryffindor finished with an air of arrogance.
“Alright have it your way, how are you?” asked Harry. A tiny headache started to form behind the young man’s eyes.
“Well, I was just grand until I met this rude man today,” the ghost responded a bit put out.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Harry huffed through clenched teeth. The tiny headache grew slightly so that it was now an annoying headache.
“It’s okay, I suppose,” Gryffindor said as he sat back down on Harry’s bed. “I came here today to help you in you quest for Voldemort’s Horcuxes.”
“How do you know about that?” Harry asked, with a great deal of surprise. As far as he knew, only Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, and himself knew about the so-called quest.
“The old codger told me about it,” the ghost responded. “I know of a useful tool you can use to destroy the Horcuxes when you find them.”
“What is it?” Harry asked, eager for any help he could get.
“Aren’t you going to say ‘please’?” Gryffindor asked with a pout. Harry’s annoying headache exploded into a full fledged migraine.
“Oh, sod off you silly old bugger!” Harry hissed.
“Oh my, such language!” the ghost said with mock offence. “Fine, spoil my fun, it’s my old sword.”
“The sword of Gryffindor?” Harry asked.
“Didn’t I just say that? D’ya need to clean out your ears, boy?”
“No, I don’t!” Harry barked as his normal full fledged migraine turned into a throbbing full fledged migraine. “I just don’t see how the sword could help me.”
“Dumbledore didn’t tell me you were daft,” Gryffindor said sadly. “It’s a sword! You swing it and it cuts things! You can use it to destroy the Horcuxes!”
“Couldn’t I just use a heavy rock to break them? Why would I need your sword?”
“Dumbledore used a rock on that ring, that’s how his hand got all burnt,” the ghost answered. “The sword has charms on it to protect you.”
“Oh,” said Harry simply.
“‘Oh’ he says,” Gryffindor mocked. “Also, if you’re close enough to the site where the Horcux is, the sword can function as a divining rod to locate the blasted thing.”
“Okay, that’ll be helpful. When I turn seventeen in two days, and get freedom from this place, I’ll go to Hogwarts and fetch your sword.”
“No, do it now!” commanded Gryffindor. “Why wait?”
“Because I have to stay here until I turn seventeen,” Harry said to which the ghost made a “pfft” noise. Harry ignored Gryffindor and continued. “Besides, there are members of the Order watching me. I just can’t up and leave. They would stop me and shove me back in here and tell me to wait two days.”
“Fine, I didn’t want to tell you this but the sword will be rendered worthless if you don’t claim it by tomorrow,” stated Gryffindor seriously. “The charms around the sword will drop if it doesn’t have someone to wield it.”
“Alright, I’ll go out there and tell the Order member about the sword and why I need it.” Harry said.
“Good plan; tell them and risk having them tell someone else about the Horcruxes and then risk them telling someone else and so on until Voldemort finds out and moves the Horcrux and then you’re completely screwed,” Gryffindor said. The ghost’s words sunk in and Harry knew that it could possibly end up that way.
“Okay, but then I’ll need some sort of distraction so I can slip away from the house without being seen,” Harry said aloud.
“I’m sure you know someone clever enough to help you with that,” the ghost offered.
“Brilliant, I’ll Owl the twins!” Harry exclaimed. He quickly went to his desk and began to write a letter to Fred and George. “They know loads of tricks to fool the Order.”
“cough Hermione cough” Gryffindor ‘coughed’ loudly behind Harry.
“Excuse me, what was that?”
“Me? Oh nothing,” Gryffindor replied, and pointed to his throat. “Just a tickle.”
“Fine then, let me just write this letter,” stated Harry as he turned his attention back to the parchment. Just as Harry scrawled out the words: “Dear Fred and George,” on the paper, Gryffindor conveniently “coughed” again.
“cough Hermione cough Hermione cough”
“I’m sorry, but would you like for me to write to Hermione instead?” Harry asked petulantly.
“I really shouldn’t interfere with the living so much,” the ghost said innocently, “but I hear that the young witch is exceedingly clever.”
Harry crumpled the parchment he was working on and got a fresh one. He simply wrote:
Hermione,
I need your help.
Harry
The bespectacled man attached the letter to Hedwig’s leg and the owl flew out of the window.
“Now sit down boy, we have some time to kill until you friend replies to your post,” Gryffindor ordered. “Let me tell you a few stories… stories about the prettiest woman I ever shagged; Rowena Ravenclaw.”
For the next ninety-seven and a half minutes, Gryffindor traumatized Harry with stories of his sexual exploits with one of the other founders of Hogwarts. Harry wondered at one point if Ravenclaw had minded that Gryffindor had stuck his wand (mind you it wasn’t his figurative wand, but his actual wand; ten inches made of birch, “My other wand isn’t so small if you know what I mean.”) in that ‘place’ and wondered, too, if she had gotten splinters. Harry also learned that the Shrieking Shack that Remus used when he went to Hogwarts as a student wasn’t the first place to use that particular title; apparently, it was also the name given to Ravenclaw’s personal quarters. Gryffindor concluded with the gem “Brainy birds are always naughty.”
Gryffindor clapped his hands and asked: “Now that’s done what would you like for me to talk to you about?”
“Oh god, please nothing,” Harry murmured in fear. “Please, no more.”
“Alright then, how about a game of strip Parcheesi?”
Harry had started to make a mad dash for the door when he heard a familiar BANG from the street below. Harry turned to see a three-tiered purple bus parked outside his relatives’ house. He also noticed with a happy heart that the ghost of Godric Gryffindor had disappeared.
Another loud bang signified the Knight Bus disappearing again. Harry made his way to the front door. When he reached for the door-knob, someone pressed the buzzer. Harry opened the door to find a very perturbed and upset Hermione.
“You needed my help?” Hermione demanded.
“Hello Hermione, nice to see you too. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Harry greeted her with just a touch of sarcasm.
“Oh, can it Harry,” she replied irritably, “I’ve had a rotten day.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Harry began to apologize.
“Actually I should thank you,” Hermione interrupted and she walked into the Dursley house. As Hermione walked past Harry, he noticed a pleasing musky odor, like an old book, wafting off the young witch. Harry rationalized that she must’ve been reading one of her ancient tomes on the Bus. “You saved me from that lecherous git.”
Harry wondered briefly if Hermione had been visited by Gryffindor’s ghost as well.
After Harry led his friend into his room, he asked her what was troubling her. He had decided to talk to Hermione about the sword after he made sure Hermione was alright.
“I just came from the Burrow,” began Hermione as she sat down on his bed. “I decided to spend some quality time with Ron because we’re together now. I had started to talk about us, what we like, what we do in our free time, and what not. Well, after I had exhausted my knowledge of all-things Quidditch and began to discus other topics, Ron started to doze off! He literally had drool coming out of the side of his mouth!
“So I decided that we would have to do something else, seeing how I was boring him into a stupor.” Hermione continued and Harry sat close to her. “I asked him, after I was finally able to wake him of course, if he wanted to do something; perhaps take a nice walk around the forest behind the Burrow.
“He completely discounted my idea and came up with one of his own. And what was this brilliant idea of his? Snogging! He said ‘let’s snog’ and grabbed my tit like this!” Hermione demonstrated by seizing her right breast and shoving it up. This action led to several other things. The first thing was that Hermione accidentally unbuttoned three buttons on her blouse, but she was too angry to notice. This action led directly into the second action, because of her breast being shoved up and the accidental unbuttoning incident, Hermione’s right breast was exposed quite a bit more than she had intended. Which led to the third and final action: Harry noticed for the first time that his friend Hermione had rather nice boobs.
They weren’t overly large, maybe slightly larger than a handful, but they were definitely an improvement on Ginny’s. They also appeared to be delectably firm, something that he would like to suckl…
‘OH MY GOD!’ Harry’s mind screamed. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Potter? She’s you best friend! Stop looking at Hermione’s lovely… er… wonderful… boobs…’ Harry’s upper-mind ceased its self-recrimination as Hermione dropped her breast as yet another button flew free, unbeknownst to the blouse’s owner, and her enticing cleavage was revealed to poor Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived was mesmerized by the way his friend’s milky flesh curved and then disappeared cruelly behind her white cotton bra. That damn bra mocked Harry, teasing the young man, saying: ‘There’s more underneath, more to see… and they are called nipples!’
‘STOP IT!’ Harry’s upper brain took over and tore his eyes away from his friend’s glorious mounds. Luckily for Harry, Hermione didn’t notice where his eyes seemed to have been glued for the past few seconds. And even more fortuitous, she didn’t notice ‘Harry, Jr.’ trying to free himself from his damn denim prison and give a proper ‘Hello’ to her. Because if she did notice, she would have known that her friend was a true Gryffindor in that he, like the house founder “dressed right.”
“…I told him; ‘NO, not yet. Let’s talk for a bit.’ And then he said, ‘Talk about what?'” the brunette witch continued. “I couldn’t think of anything to talk about! It hit me; we have two things in common. First, we argue constantly, and secondly, you’re our best friend Harry.”
“Um, thanks… I like friends,” Harry said dumbly, half-listening, half-wishing that ‘Harry, Jr.’ would stand down, before Hermione noticed his state of arousal.
“I wish Ron and I were like you and Ginny,” Hermione stated. With the mention of Ginny’s name, Harry had gotten his wish; ‘Harry, Jr.’ went into sudden hibernation. “I know you two broke up, but you have loads in common. You both like to play Quidditch and… and… and…”
Hermione stopped for a good long time. Harry would often see her go into these lapses whenever she was faced with a perplexing question. Her eyes would burn intensely as she worried her lip. No difficult challenge stood in the way of the awesome mental powers of Hermione Jane Granger, smartest witch in her generation, when she put her mind to it.
“And you were both possessed by Voldemort,” Hermione offered after a good minute of deep thought. “And…” Hermione began to slip back into her “deep-thought mode” when Harry offered some food for thought:
“And she looks like my mum,” Harry said pointing to the photo of his mother and father on his desk. Hermione scrutinized the photo for a second before becoming quite pale, then green.
“Oh, my god, that’s disturbing,” said Hermione as she took a deep calming breath.
“Tell me about it,” Harry stated.
“And you kissed her!” Hermione said shocked.
“Don’t remind me!” pleaded Harry as he felt nauseous once again.
“At least you didn’t tongue kiss her…” Hermione paused as she saw the guilty look on his face. “Oh, my GOD! You tongue kissed a girl who looks like your mother!”
“Hermione, please… stop,” whined Harry.
“Please tell me you at least didn’t feel her up, Harry.”
“Um…”
“Wait! DON’T TELL ME!” Hermione demanded.
Hermione stood up and began pacing the room. On her third pass, Harry’s nausea was replaced with arousal when he noticed how Hermione’s slacks hugged her bum. ‘Harry, Jr.’ woke up once more shouting, ‘It’s play time.’
“Why can’t Ron and I and Ginny and you be like the two of us? The way we are,” Hermione questioned. “You and I have so much in common. We were both raised in the Muggle world…”
“… So the magical world is new and fascinating to us every day.” Harry finished Hermione’s statement automatically. He had to finish it automatically because his conscious mind was amazed at how supple and yet firm Hermione’s bottom looked. For the first time in his life, Harry was glad that he wore his cousin’s cast-offs. The circus tent that passed for pants helped hide his state.
“We both enjoy going to Hogwarts,” continued Hermione. “And we both excel in at least one class. You’re tops in Defense…
“… And you are great at Charms, Transfigurations, and pretty much everything…”
“We both like tutoring,” Hermione offered. “You were brilliant with the DA. I mean you taught two of us how to cast a corporeal Patronus!”
“And you were brilliant teaching me the summoning charm to get past the first task. Heck, everyone in Gryffindor would’ve failed all their classes if you didn’t help us out.”
When Hermione stopped pacing and stood in front of Harry, he noticed that she appeared… flushed. She had a rosy bloom all over her exposed skin; especially on her lovely… wonderful… boobs.
“We’re both quick witted and clever,” Hermione said licking her lips as if she was anticipating something.
“I tricked Malfoy into freeing Dobby,” said Harry. “And you tricked both Skeeter and Umbridge into doing things that needed to be done.”
“Um, I actually blackmailed Skeeter,” corrected Hermione. She continued in a breathy and husky tone, “We’ve both been into the Forbidden Forest loads of times, whereas Ron equals Neville by only being in twice…”
“We’re both in Gryf… fin… dor…” Harry stammered when he saw a touch of lust in his friend’s beautiful eyes.
“We share the same initials for our first and middle names…” Hermione said huskily as she intentionally unbutton one of the remaining buttons on her blouse.
“H… J…” Harry panted as he was bewitched by even more flesh. “Wait, that’s kind of lame…”
“Oh, bugger it!” Hermione muttered and then leapt on Harry. Their lips met instinctively, as if they had been destined to. A fantastic tingling sensation erupted from Harry’s lips and raced through his body, something that ‘Harry, Jr.’ really seemed to appreciate, because he desperately wanted to say ‘Hi.’
Harry’s tongue involuntarily touched her lips. Hermione groaned into his mouth as her tongue came out to play with Harry’s. He didn’t realize when his hands started to wander, but he certainly liked it. His left hand was firmly on her bum, squeezing occasionally, while his other hand had traveled under her blouse and was running over her smooth, warm skin. Of course, this only inflated ‘Harry, Jr.’s’ attention who was now virtually banging his tin cup against the steel bars of his zipper prison chanting; “Azkaban, Azkaban, Azkaban…”
“Is that your wand in you pocket, or are you just happy to see me, Harry?” Hermione asked playfully after pulling herself away from his lips.
“Um… ah…um…” Harry bumbled in shock as he looked between ‘Harry, Jr.’, Hermione, and his wand which was lying on his desk. “Well I…err…”
“It’s a joke, Harry,” Hermione stated, easing the young man’s embarrassment. Then she did something Harry had never seen her do before, Hermione appeared to work up a great amount of saliva in her mouth and then licked her left palm, leaving it covered in spit. Before Harry could ask her what she was doing, Hermione stuffed her left hand down the front of Harry’s trousers and gave a firm, yet polite and very welcomed handshake to ‘Harry, Jr.’
“Oh my…” Harry squeaked as his eyes crossed. Hermione nibbled on his ear as she continued her ministrations in Harry’s pants. Again, Harry was overjoyed at the fact that he had inherited the over-sized pants he was wearing, for it gave Hermione’s hand ample space for movement. “Oh wow… I… wow… this is… neat…”
“Shut the hell up and kiss me Harry!” ordered Hermione. Harry was all too happy to comply. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled on various areas of Hermione’s face and neck while his hands memorized every curve she had on her bum and chest. Hermione seemed to just focus her attention to the task at hand, or rather the task in her hand.
The two teens played a game as they rolled around on Harry’s bed; one trying their damnedest to arouse the other. Of course, in this game, Hermione had the upper… ahem…hand.
Tears of joy seeped out of ‘Harry, Jr.’s eye and a squelching noise emanated from Harry’s trousers. Harry’s world started to spin. After years of solo practice, he knew he didn’t have much time left. He could feel the pressure build up in his loins as ‘Harry, Jr.’ begged for release. ‘This is so much better when someone else does it for you!’
Crunch
“Oh god, Hermione…” groaned Harry.
“Oh, Harry…” Hermione said wickedly.
Crunch
“What the hell is that noise?” Harry asked in a very perturbed manner. He tore his eyes away from the brunette witch on top of him and saw a leather-clad ghost sitting on the floor eating from a bucket of popcorn. The ghost smiled in a repugnant way and said;
“I told you the brainy ones were naughty.”
To be continued!
Footnote: (1) The word “site” was intentionally misused it’s an improper homophone, hey, if JKR can use the wrong word, so can I.

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