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

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