Introduction:
Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Seventeen: It’s Not Easy Being Green
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Seventeen Summary: It’s amazing what one can stuff in a broom cupboard.
“You shagged my eyes green!” Hermione screeched. A part of Harry wanted to run very far away due to the anger in his lover’s voice. The other part of Harry marveled at how her screams echoed off the marble floor of the expansive bathroom; it was a really large room.
Hermione was leaning over the sink and had her face very close to the mirror in order to examine her eyes more closely. Of course she was still wearing only her bra and knickers. The moment Harry had informed her about her new eye color, Hermione had jumped out of the bed and rushed to see for herself. And the fact that she was bent over the sink made her round bum stick out quite nicely. The part of Harry that was intrigued by the echo effect was also aroused by the sight of Hermione’s bottom. That part wanted to have Harry run his hands over her flesh. Of course the part of Harry that had wanted to run away – the rational part of Harry’s brain if you don’t remember – realized that it would be a very bad idea judging at how mad Hermione was.
“You shagged my eyes green!” she repeated.
“I didn’t mean to,” Harry weakly defended.
“You shagged my eyes green!” Hermione repeated again.
“Not totally,” Harry pointed out. “They’re still mostly hazel. And I kind of like the green.”
“My eyes have never been hazel, Harry,” Hermione groaned out. “They’ve always been brown.”
“There’s a difference?” asked Harry. To him, hazel was just another way of saying brown.
“No, hazel is brown with a touch of green in it,” explained Hermione. It was obvious by the tone of her voice that Hermione was truly worried by this change. “How long have you noticed that my eyes were hazel?”
“Um… since we’ve been together.”
“What’s happening to me?” Hermione asked.
Harry had no idea, and if Hermione was stumped, he reckoned that they were fairly well buggered.
“Let’s go talk to McGonagall,” Hermione stated.
“Do you think that’ll help?”
“Well, maybe she can offer some suggestions.”
Harry nodded his head in agreement and the two lovers got dressed. Hermione led the way out of the bedroom and stopped when she got into the hall.
“Ah, Harry,” Hermione said while she looked up and down. “I think you changed more than just the bedroom and loo.”
Harry joined Hermione in the hall and was stunned. What was once a dark, dank, and dusty two leveled shack was now an expansive three leveled mansion!
To Harry’s left was a white-marble staircase with pure gold fixtures that looked like it belonged in a palace. To his right were seven doors which led to what he assumed were more bedrooms. Above him was a domed sky light which flooded the stairwell and hall with warm light.
The two lovers walked down the stairs and surveyed the second floor. On this floor, there was a large library (which, much to Hermione’s obvious and vocal disappointment, had no books; just empty shelves needing – or, according to Hermione, begging – to be filled) and a game room (complete with a snooker table, large chess table, and another table which looked perfect for a match of exploding snap).
The bottom floor now contained a massive kitchen, dining room, and parlor. At the front of the house was an impressive double door with ornate carvings on it. Harry opened the door and stepped out. The wizard was quite surprised to see that the exterior of the Shrieking Shack had not changed at all; it was still a crumbling hovel. He reasoned that it was now much like the magical tent he and the Weasleys had used when they went to the Quidditch World Cup.
“How does it look out there?” Hermione asked from the foyer while she looked up at the domed ceiling inside the Shack.
“It hasn’t changed,” informed Harry. “It still looks like the old Shack; but its bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Kind of like the tent we had for the World Cup.”
“Or like the Tardis,” Hermione commented off-handedly.
“Who?” asked Harry.
“Exactly,” Hermione answered.
“How did you do this?” Hermione asked when Harry re-entered the now-glorious interior of the Shack. “What kind of spells did you use?”
“None really,” admitted Harry. “I just tapped into my love-core again and focused on the thought of making the room special for you… and this happened.”
“Let’s head back to the castle,” Hermione volunteered in a distracted way as she chewed her lip and looked at the magical building around her. It was clear to Harry that she was thinking about something but wasn’t willing to share just yet.
The two lovers walked through the secret passage – which was now no longer a dark and crumbling tunnel, but rather a well lit cobblestone hallway – to the school ground. Apparently, Harry’s magic altered the passageway as well. He wondered if his magic had changed the Whomping Willow as well. Was it now a harmless tree with brightly colored blossoms?
His question was answered as he approached the exit. Harry saw one of the tree’s limbs swing wildly at a passing bird, knocking it out of the sky. Apparently, Harry’s love magic stopped at changing the passageway and didn’t touch the Whomping Willow. From inside the tunnel, Harry reached up and pressed the secret knot and caused the Willow to freeze in mid-whomp. He helped Hermione out and the pair proceeded to head to the castle.
“What’s that?” Hermione asked as she pointed to a black lump in the distance near the edge of the forest.
“Don’t know,” said Harry while squinting to get a better look at the object.
“Was it there when we went to the Shack?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. To be honest, he was much too focused on the thought of making love to Hermione to have actually paid any attention to his surroundings. For all he knew, a battle could have broken out between the Acromantulas from the forest and the giant squid from the lake and Harry wouldn’t have noticed.
“It’s a person!” Hermione shouted and rushed to the prone figure.
Harry quickly followed his girlfriend. Just before Hermione was about to kneel down so that she could examine the person, Harry recognized the robes. He whipped out his wand and warned, “Hermione, get back! It’s a Death Eater!”
Hermione jumped back at Harry’s warning. Slowly, Harry approached the unknown Death Eater. With his wand still pointing at the prone person, Harry lowered the black hood to reveal a broken and bloodied Death Eater Mask. Harry flicked the mask off.
“It’s Malfoy!” Hermione stated in surprise.
Lying right in front of the young lovers was none other than Draco Malfoy, the wizard who led a group of Death Eaters into the castle and aided in the murder of Dumbledore. His left eye was swollen shut, his nose was clearly broken in two places, and Harry felt it was safe to assume by the extensive amount of blood caked around his mouth that Draco had also lost some teeth as well. Malfoy was pale (well, paler than his normal morgue-like pallor) and looked as if he hadn’t rested or eaten in a day or two. His Death Eater robes were tattered and torn, with pieces of twigs and branches tangled in them.
Judging by the fact that Draco’s blood appeared to have been dry for some time, Harry guessed that Malfoy was attacked a few days previously and had escaped through the Forbidden Forest. Whether that was actually what happened or merely designed to appear so to whomever stumbled across Malfoy wasn’t clear. For all Harry knew this was a trap.
“Let’s get him to Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione ordered.
“No,” barked Harry.
“Harry, he’s injured,” argued Hermione.
“Good,” commented Harry honestly. “He deserves some pain, and if you ask me, he deserves a lot more. Besides, it might be a trap.”
“A trap? To do what precisely?” Hermione asked with her fists on her hips.
“Maybe Voldemort heard that they’re going to open up the school again and he wants to send a message,” Harry explained. “So they make Draco look like he’s gotten the snot kicked out of him and dump him where someone will find him. Then he is taken to the Hospital Ward where McGonagall visits him. Malfoy gives the signal, maybe a Flare Charm or something, then a bunch of Death Eaters Portkey to Malfoy’s location and kill all the staff present and burn the school down. That way, the school would never open again.”
“I don’t know Harry,” Hermione sounded. “It sounds a bit contrived.”
“Contrived, is it? It’s not as contrived as the plan where the Death Eaters entered the castle through the means of a magical teleporting cabinet which brought them into a magical room which houses stolen, hidden, or nefarious objects that have been collected over the ages,” Harry countered. “When Draco and the other Death Eaters left this room, they use the just-invented Peruvian Darkness Power, which Draco bought from the twins. No one can see through the Darkness Powder except for Draco because he finally has the Hand of Glory which is the perfect counter for the twins’ product. The Hand of Glory, of course being something he’s pouted for since before our second year. Then the Death Eaters conjured up a magical shield through which no one without a Dark Mark can pass. But even with this impassable shield, some of the Death Eaters stayed and battled the good guys so they can’t get to the shield, which they couldn’t pass even if it wasn’t protected by Death Eaters. While those Death Eaters are fighting the good guys – the ones that couldn’t pass through the shield but for some unknown reason, the bad guys still felt the need to keep the good guys from approaching it – one of the Death Eaters ran up to the top of the Astronomy Tower and casts the Dark Mark so that they could complete their plan to lure Dumbledore back to the castle. They knew he was away because their Imperioed spy alerted them that he and I had left. Mind you, the Death Eaters only had an hour or so warning, because no one, not even me, knew that Dumbledore was planning on leaving. Then once that Death Eater cast the Dark Mark, he ran back down and fought against the good guys to help make sure they couldn’t reach the shield they couldn’t pass anyway.
“When Dumbledore arrived, they sent Draco up to face him,” Harry continued his analysis of the Death Eater tactics. “Miraculously, Draco, a sixteen year old kid, was able to disarm the most powerful wizard alive – probably because Dumbledore was busy casting a Full Body Bind on me, even though I saw him take out several fully trained Wizards on two occasions in our fifth year which means he should’ve been able to cast the hex on me and take care of Draco easily. Next, a number of the Death Eaters left the fight to keep the good guys away from approaching the invisible shield they couldn’t pass and join Draco up on the Astronomy Tower to simply watch him assassinate Dumbledore. But, Draco didn’t have the nerve and none of these watchers did it either. Which is odd in itself, since they’re all a bunch of bootlickers who would’ve loved the opportunity to kill an unarmed and defenseless Dumbledore so that they could gain their master’s favor. They watched dumbly as this ponce,” Harry paused and pointed at Draco, “shock and trembleb. All the while, they could’ve easily killed Dumbledore themselves. Then they watched dumbly while Snape ran up and does the job for them and therefore gains their master’s approval. They then initiate their well-thought out escape plan: either run back through the good guys in hopes of returning to the Room of Requirement where they had come in from and use the magical transport device, or run through the good guys and into the Forbidden Forrest – of course they could have just as easily created a Portkey or two of them could have even use the brooms that Dumbledore and I flew on, I mean they were just sitting there in plain sight. But that wasn’t in their brilliantly conceived plan and so obviously they couldn’t do that. Now the major flaw in their well thought out escape plan is that all the good guys were concentrated at the entrance to the stairs of the Tower because of the plan to keep a Death Eater or two at the entrance to fight off all the good guys from approaching the shield they couldn’t pass. So therefore, when the Death Eaters escape; they have to fight their way through every single one of the good guys. If they had simply left their impenetrable shield unguarded, the good guys would’ve known that they couldn’t have passed through it. And since the good guys would need to find another way up the Tower, they would have left the entrance virtually unprotected during their searches.
“So, as you can see, this could be a trap,” Harry concluded.
Hermione blinked slowly as she obviously tried to catch up with Harry’s train of thought. It was clear by the expression on her face that she hadn’t realized, until Harry pointed it out, that the person who came up with the plan to attack Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore had the mental equivalent of a twelve year old on a sugar high. Either that or her expression meant she got a headache from trying to keep up with Harry’s explanation.
“Okay, how about we Portkey him to the Ministry and let them deal with him,” Hermione offered.
Harry tugged off one of Draco’s shoes and placed it near the blond wizard’s hand. Hermione tapped it with her wand while incanting “Portus.”
After the shoe had been transformed into a Portkey, Harry lifted Draco’s limp hand and dropped it on the Portkey. With a pop, Draco vanished from sight.
“Maybe we should’ve tested how powerful you are now on him,” offered Harry. “You know, a Blasting Hex or two just to see if the ritual worked or not.”
“Although that is a good idea and I’d love to get a chance to hurt the bastard; he deserves it how he gloated over Cedric’s death and what he did to Katie and Madam Rosmerta,” Hermione said. “I want him to be awake so he knows that it’s a ‘Mudblood’ kicking his bigoted butt.”
Now that that was out of the way, the two lovers continued their way to the castle.
They quickly went to the Headmistress’ office and knocked on her door.
“Come in,” McGonagall called out. When Harry followed Hermione into the room, he was relieved that McGonagall was alone. The conversation was going to be hard enough without an audience.
“Um, Professor… I…” Hermione stammered. It was obvious that she was nervous and was trying to find a more polite way of saying “Harry shagged my eyes green” to their stern Headmistress.
But before Hermione could continue, McGonagall demanded, “Miss Granger, what happened to your eyes?”
What followed was a very awkward conversation where Harry and Hermione informed McGonagall about the power boosting ritual – but Hermione was the one who did most of the talking because Harry still couldn’t bring himself to discuss sex in front of McGonagall. Hermione kept stammering and using vague innuendoes such as “my first blossom.” Even though Harry knew what Hermione was describing, he had difficulty following her.
“You performed the Maidenhead Ritual,” McGonagall commented, effectively ending Hermione’s awkward description.
“You know of it?” Hermione asked.
“Yes, it is somewhat uncommon, but some witches still do it,” McGonagall replied. “I did it myself,” she added with one of her saucy grins. Harry quickly blocked out the image of the Headmistress’ first time. That was something he didn’t want to see.
“But that doesn’t explain why your eyes are green,” McGonagall stated.
“I think it has something to do with Harry,” Hermione speculated. “He’s rather… powerful.”
McGonagall mulled over Hermione’s theory for a moment. The Headmistress turned to Dumbledore’s painting and asked, “Albus, what are your thoughts?”
“I once heard of an American mage who theorized that pure magic was always colored green,” Dumbledore mused aloud. “But I can’t seem to remember his name. I recalled that he claimed to be some sort of a reincarnation of Merlin.”
“Wasn’t that the fellow who had no legs?” McGonagall asked. “The one whose companion had a beard and who only had that one pullover that he constantly wore and carried some kind of glowing cricket bat all the time?” (1)
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“I don’t know, I ever heard his name.”
“Well perhaps we’ll discover his name at another time.” Dumbledore continued, “But coming back to the situation at hand, I’ve always believed that Harry was powerful, as Miss Granger commented, and that his power has somehow seeped into Hermione and has altered the color of her eyes.”
Harry blushed at Dumbledore choice of words even though he doubted that the venerable Headmaster had intended the word “seeped” to have such a double meaning.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Hermione agreed with Dumbledore. “Harry made a comment that my eyes were hazel ever since we’ve been together. I think his love based magic has been altering the color slowly and this ritual just accelerated that change. It’s probably safe to assume that my eyes will be the same color as Harry’s in a short matter of time.”
A chill ran through Harry. His love magic was changing Hermione’s eye color to match his. Did that mean that his magic was changing Hermione into a copy of him? Would Hermione slowly turn into a copy of Harry? That was something Harry did not like in the slightest. If Hermione turned into him, she’d loose her boobs, and Harry enjoyed playing with her breasts too much for that to happen. And Harry couldn’t bear the thought of Hermione’s flower turning into a replica of ‘Harry, Jr.’
“They do say that the eyes are the windows to the soul,” stated Dumbledore. “Harry’s love has touched your soul and it is showing that love in your eyes. Besides, I doubt that any other features will change, Miss Granger.”
“How can you be sure, sir?” Hermione asked.
“Because, Harry is controlling the change – on a subconscious level of course,” Dumbledore replied. “And I can safely assume that Harry doesn’t want the rest of you to change.”
Both Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. They bid McGonagall and Dumbledore goodbye and left. But before they exited the office, Hermione turned and spoke to the Headmistress.
“Oh, I almost forgot, Professor,” Hermione began. “When Harry and I were walking on the school grounds, we found Draco Malfoy.”
“Malfoy?” McGonagall shouted. “What the hell was he doing here?”
“We don’t know,” Hermione replied. “He was unconscious. It was obvious that he was badly beaten and it looked like he had been in the Forbidden Forest for a few days. We created a Portkey and sent him to the Ministry.”
“Why didn’t you come and get me?” McGonagall asked.
“We thought it was a trap,” Harry supplied.
“Good point,” McGonagall agreed. “If it was, they’d never expect that we’d just send him to the Ministry without healing his wounds first.”
Harry was quite glad that McGonagall agreed with him. He didn’t want to repeat the same argument he had given Hermione earlier; just thinking of the overly contrived attack plan gave him a headache. Harry and Hermione said goodbye again and left the office.
As Harry and Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room, they discussed Dumbledore’s revelation.
“That was really nice what Dumbledore said about you power,” said Hermione with a bloom to her cheeks. “How you’ve touched my soul.”
“Oh, I thought you were talking about when he said my love ‘seeped’ into you.” Harry said with a wry grin.
“Harry James Potter,” scolded Hermione. “You have a dirty mind!”
“It was funny,” Harry defended.
After a moment, Hermione snorted “Well, there was a bit of seeping. But a quick Cleaning Charm took care of that.”
The two shared a laugh at their naughty joke as they entered the Common Room. They flopped on the couch and held each other as they chuckled. Harry stopped laughing suddenly when he saw a crest-fallen Ron stumble into the Common Room.
“Ron, are you okay?” Hermione asked after she regained her composure.
Ron mumbled a response and shrugged his shoulders.
“Ronald, carry me,” Luna’s voice requested from the hallway. “It’s tradition.”
The red haired wizard turned and walked out in the hallway. He returned a second later carrying Luna in his arms. It was fairly obvious what Ron and Luna had done judging by the way he was carrying her.
“Ron, you didn’t,” Hermione gasped. The defeated look on Ron’s face compared to the happy and glowing look on Luna’s informed both Harry and Hermione that they in fact did.
“It wasn’t my choice,” he argued. “Mum made me do it.”
“What do you mean?” Hermione demanded.
“It’s an old magical tradition,” Ron began. “If two people have any type of sex; even if it’s just a blow-job or a hand-job, the parents can force the two to marry.”
Both Harry and Hermione shared a worried look. Harry wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying Hermione, but the concept of being forced to do so was distasteful. When he married her, it would be on their terms, no on else’s. He could tell that Hermione was thinking the same thing.
After setting Luna down, Ron sat on the couch and was lost in his thoughts. Luna eyed Harry and Hermione inquisitively before saying, “I wouldn’t worry you two; it’s only a pure-blood tradition. It was a way some families made sure their line remained pure. Besides, even if you two were pure-bloods, the tradition clearly states that at least one parent from each side must agree. Seeing that Harry’s folks are beyond the veil, they can’t really agree now can they?”
A wave of relief passed over Harry and he saw his girlfriend visibly relax. Luna walked up and hugged Hermione comfortingly and said, “Congratulations on consummating your relationship.”
Hermione’s eyes bulged in surprise at Luna’s comment.
“Did you enjoy the sex?” Luna asked and then added, “That was directed at you Hermione, since I know Harry enjoyed it. He’s a bloke so it’s obvious that he liked it.”
“Um… how’d you know?” Harry asked nervously.
“What kind of silly comment is that? I’ve known you’re a man for a while Harry,” Luna replied.
“No, no, how did you know about us making love?” Hermione corrected.
“It was clear the way you two reacted when you thought that you would be forced to marry now,” Luna answered.
“It’s about time, if you ask me,” Ron commented dispassionately.
“So, how was the sex?” Luna repeated.
“It was nice, but a touch awkward,” Hermione replied softly.
“You should’ve done what Ronald and I did when we first made love,” Luna offered. “When you do it five consecutive times, you get past the awkwardness rather fast.”
“Five times, I thought it was six?” Harry asked.
“Harry, please keep up,” Luna spoke as if she was speaking with a child. “Hermione and I are discussing intercourse. Ronald and I made love a total of five times – including the accidental sodomy. Yes, Ronald did ejaculate six times, but the first time was in my hand, and that’s not true intercourse,” Luna paused and caressed her husband’s face while commenting softly, “My virile man.”
Now that his concern was lifted, Harry turned his attention back to Ron. The red-haired wizard was so sullen looking that Harry thought he was going to cry. Harry didn’t know if he’d be able to handle being forced to marry Hermione like Ron was forced to do with Luna. Then it dawned on Harry; yes, he wanted to be married to Hermione on their own terms, but the idea of being married to her was actually very heart lifting. Harry realized that Ron should be happy. Even though it wasn’t his idea, Ron was married to a wonderful witch whom he loved and she loved him right back. In all honesty, Ron was overreacting. Harry was about to point this out to Ron when a sudden thought occurred to Harry; he hadn’t been invited to his best mate’s wedding.
“Why the hell wasn’t I invited?” Harry asked Ron in a jovial way. “I’m your best mate; I should’ve been your Best Wizard!”
“What about me?” Hermione added in an equally humorous way. “I was the one who introduced the couple. I should have been at least invited.”
“This isn’t funny you two,” Ron snapped. “I’m married.”
“Actually, it is kind of funny,” Luna said dreamily. Where Ron was upset and in shock over the marriage, Luna was taking her new marital status in her usual easy going manner.
“Why did Molly force you two to marry?” Hermione asked.
“My father made us as well, don’t forget,” Luna informed and plopped down next to her husband.
“I never met your dad, but I thought Molly wouldn’t hold to such an archaic pure-blood tradition? Why would your mum even consider doing such a thing?” Harry asked. He always thought that the Weasleys didn’t hold themselves to such beliefs.
“I think Molly was just upset her son had his way with me,” Luna answered.
“So, you’re saying that if Luna just stopped at giving you a hand-job on your first date, your parents could’ve still forced you to marry?” Hermione asked.
“Only if they found out,” Ron replied giving Harry an accusing eye. “Why’d you do that? If Mum hadn’t found out, she would have never insisted that we get married.”
“Sorry about that,” Harry said, not really believing that an apology was necessary. For one reason, the prank he and Hermione pulled on Fred and George was perfect. And the second reason, Ron should consider himself lucky to be with Luna.
“An interesting side note;” Luna stated. “If a pure-blood fools around with a half-blood or a Muggle-born, the tradition doesn’t apply.”
“I can’t believe it!” Ron snapped again. “How the three of you can take this so lightly?”
“What’s the big deal?” Harry asked Ron.
“I’m married,” Ron answered.
“Do you love Luna?” Hermione asked.
“Yes.”
“So what’s the big deal?” Harry repeated. “You’re married to a beautiful witch who you love and she loves you -”
“And a witch who loves his penis,” Luna added. “It really is wonderful; I could play with it for hours and hours.”
“You have,” Hermione made a comment under her breath about Ron and Luna’s day-long shag-fests.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ron admitted and his worry melted away. Luna showed her appreciation for Ron’s realization by snuggling up next to him. At first Harry was happy for his friends and was about to wish them well when he saw Luna’s hand slowly inch down toward Ron’s trousers.
Harry took Hermione’s hand and started to make their way out of the Common Room; he was positive that Luna was going to whip out Ron’s willy and Harry had no intention of watching his two friends go at it… again. A happy groan from Ron announced that Harry’s speculation was right.
The moment the two lovers entered the hall outside the Common Room, a number of house-elves popped out of thin air.
“Yous be a very bad wizard!” one elf shouted at Harry in a mixture of rage and sadness.
“The bald feline done be violated,” another added.
“The One of the Mark do be bad,” a third wailed.
“Yous done defiled the Great One!” an elf sobbed.
Harry was stunned; how did they find out so soon? He turned to see if Hermione was as perplexed as he was only to find his girlfriend rolling her eyes at the house-elves comments.
“Yous will pay, One of the Mark!” one threatened.
“Oh, just stuff it,” Hermione shouted. “I wanted the One of the Mark to ‘violate’ the bald feline. And I’m going to do it again!”
Harry jumped in the air triumphantly at Hermione’s declaration.
“We’s be stopping yous then,” one house-elf said defiantly.
“Why bother,” Hermione countered. “It’s already been done! There’s no point in stopping it now.”
Hermione took Harry’s hand and they turned to face the Fat Lady. At first, it was Harry and Hermione’s intention to reenter the Common Room and make their way up to his room to make love. But remembering that Ron and Luna started to become intimate in the Common Room and how fast they worked, Harry imagined Ron already had his new wife bent over the couch and was taking her from behind. So obviously, going through the Common Room was out of the question.
Harry looked around desperately for another place to be intimate. Hermione had promised another go and ‘Harry, Jr.’ was already starting to wake up. If Harry didn’t find another place, ‘Harry, Jr.’ would be quite irate.
Thankfully, Harry saw salvation. He pointed and declared, “There!”
“A broom cupboard?” Hermione said scandalously as she eyes the small door across the hall. “You want to shag in a broom cupboard?”
“It’s a Hogwarts tradition,” Harry defended. “Like house rivalry, you have to shag in a cupboard.”
With a smile, Hermione replied, “Who am I to go against tradition?”
Harry pushed his way past the house-elves and led Hermione into the tiny and cluttered room. He quickly closed the door behind him and the elves pleas and cries became muffled. Hermione drew out her wand and waved it at the door. Suddenly, the elves cries were silenced as she placed a Silencing Charm on the door.
The only light in the cupboard filtered through the bottom of the door. It was a tight squeeze and Harry didn’t have much room to move, but he was up for the challenge.
He took Hermione’s face in his hands and lovingly kissed her lips. Their tongues played with each other for a while and Harry’s hand began to wander down. His fingers worked in the near darkness on the buttons of Hermione’s blouse. Because of the cramped space, Harry wasn’t able to remove her bra fully. But that didn’t stop him from pulling it down enough to expose ‘Camilla’ and ‘Natasha.’ He trailed kisses down her neck and chest until he reached her wonderful nubs. Hermione groaned pleasurably as Harry played with each of her nipples in turn.
Harry knelt down – which caused a couple of pails to rub against his back. He reached up inside of her skirt and pulled her panties down. Hermione had to place her hand on Harry’s shoulder for support as she stepped out of her knickers. Harry took one of his lover’s legs and guided it so that it was draped over his shoulder. Holding the front of her skirt up, Harry dove in. He worked his Parseltongue magic on her flower. Within a minute, Hermione was grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s hair and her knee was shaking.
After she was good and wet, Harry stood and freed /’Harry, Jr.’/. The organ sprang out of Harry’s pants and was more than eager to play. Even though it was very dark in the cupboard, Harry was able to see a wicked smile on Hermione’s lips. The brunette witch turned around and stuck her bottom out at Harry.
“Take me from behind,” Hermione said throatily.
Harry gulped and braced himself. He was about to blindly follow through with Hermione’s command. He knew it would hurt her, but he wondered how much it would hurt him. He reckoned that that particular entrance was rather tight. He knew that he’d have to lubricate himself up before entering her nether hole. Would his spit be enough for the job? Would it be considered uncouth to spit a loogie on his own willy? It was also supposed to be a very messy way to have sex. Would Hermione be mad if Harry performed a Cleaning Charm on her bum as if he was saying she wasn’t hygienic enough?
But then Harry suddenly remembered something. He remembered that Hermione stated very clearly that she was in no way interested in anal sex. He was so caught up in the moment that he had forgotten that.
“Harry, I’m waiting,” Hermione moaned out and she playfully rubbed her bottom against him. Now Harry was very confused; he remembered that Hermione said no anal, but now she was propositioning him to do just that.
“Um, I thought you said never that way?” Harry asked, still confused as to what Hermione was suggesting.
“Take me from behind,” Hermione repeated in an annoyed fashion. “Not ‘take my behind’. Just go slowly, I’m still a little sore.”
“Oh,” Harry replied.
With one hand around the base of ‘Harry, Jr.’ and the other on Hermione’s round bottom, Harry rubbed his crown up and down Hermione’s vulva, smearing her juices on his tip. He felt Hermione shiver with delight and he decided to continue teasing his girlfriend. After a few moments of this action, Hermione hissed out “When I said /’go slowly’/, I didn’t mean this slowly.”
“You want me to stop this?” Harry asked playfully as he slid his crown over her nether lips again.
“Hurry up and stick that fucking thing in me!” Hermione commanded.
“Do you really want it?” Harry asked and he could see Hermione nod her head. Even though he was more than happy to comply with Hermione’s wishes, he was turned on when she used foul language and he wanted her to talk dirty to him some more. “Tell me how badly you want it.”
“I can’t handle it anymore,” Hermione began. “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock inside my wet quim.”
And that was good enough for Harry. Gently, he pushed his way inside of her. Hermione groaned out as Harry stretched out her inner walls. Slowly and rhythmically, Harry made love to her.
“Slowly, that’s it. It feels so effing good. I love it inside me,” Hermione moaned out. “Does my pussy make your willy feel good? Does it make you want to cum?”
He wanted to thrust and pound away inside of her. But she had warned him to go slow and Harry fought the urge. It didn’t help that Hermione’s dirty talk was driving Harry mad.
“Fuck me slow, Harry,” she purred and Harry felt his balls begin to seize up.
“Hermione, I’m gonna cum,” warned Harry.
“Do it Harry, cum in me,” she commanded.
With a primal shout, Harry released himself. Panting, he removed himself from Hermione’s flower.
“Did you like that?” Hermione asked and turned around.
“It was fantastic,” Harry said and pulled her to him. “Now, did you like it?”
“Very much so,” Hermione admitted. “It was much more enjoyable the second time. In fact, I was very close to climaxing.”
“How close?”
“Very,” Hermione answered. “I’d say about a minute or two, no more.”
Harry looked down and silently asked ‘Harry, Jr.’ if it was ready for another go. The organ struggled and bravely stood as if it was saying “I’m ready, Cap’n! For Queen and Country and all that!”
/ /Confident that he could last for another minute or two, Harry guided Hermione so that she was leaning against the wall.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked in surprise. When he reentered her flower, Hermione muttered a barely audible “Oh, my.”
He knew he wouldn’t last long, but Harry wanted to make Hermione happy. He wanted desperately to return the pleasure she had given him. Every muscle in his body tensed up as he forced himself to stay erect for just a while longer. His cum and her juices coated his penis as he slid in and out.
In the dim light, Harry could see her now mostly green eyes sparkle with desire and love. He felt her walls tighten around his member. Hermione wasn’t lying when she told him that she was close. In a short matter of time, Hermione screamed out as her ecstasy claimed her. She bucked and she reached out for something to grab on to help her remain standing.
Unfortunately, that something was a broom that was just leaning against the wall. Not only did the broom not support Hermione, but because of her orgasm, she accidentally swung the broom… directly at Harry’s head. With a loud crack, the broom handle struck Harry’s head – right above his left eye.
The two lovers began to crash to the ground. On their way down, their bodies hit a number of cleaning tools and supplies, sending them to the ground as well. Pots, pails, and brooms landed on top of Harry and Hermione.
Mind you, during the fall, Hermione was still riding her orgasm. She bucked and thrashed on top of Harry as the various items rained down on them.
After everything had settled – both the cleaning supplies and Hermione’s orgasm, Harry asked “How was it for you?”
“Besides being pelted with brooms and whatnot,” Hermione breathed out. “It was a little squishy the second time. But I really liked it.”
It took them a while to untangle themselves from each other and the brooms, but when they stood, Hermione magically cleaned herself and Harry. After dressing, Harry opened the door to find that the house-elves had not left. In fact, they had set up an impromptu candlelight vigil. Each one of the elves was dressed from head to toe in black rags, some were even softly crying.
Hermione pushed passed the group and led Harry to the Great Hall.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Hermione said. “I’m hungry.”
When they arrived at the Great Hall, two plates of food were waiting for them. Harry assumed that one of the house-elves had heard Hermione’s comment about being hungry and they had prepared some food for them. Each plate had a note card with their names on it, indicating whose plate was whose. It was also obvious that the house-elves acted on their threat to get revenge on Harry for having sex with the Great One.
Hermione’s plate – the note card was marked “The Great One” in elegant writing – was loaded with luscious looking fruits, scrumptious kippers, and fluffy pastries. Harry’s plate – the attached note card had a very crude drawing of a stick figure being hung by its neck – was covered in rotting fruit, burnt-to-a-crisp kippers, and pastriesthat looked like they had been already chewed and spat out onto his plate.
“Well, I guess they don’t like you very much,” Hermione stated as she compared the two plates of food.
Seeing that Harry’s food was inedible, Hermione graciously shared her food with him. While they ate, Hermione continuously looked at the large bump and accompanying bruise on Harry’s forehead caused by the broom.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry consoled her. “I’ve had worse.”
“Yes, but I’ve never cause one,” fretted Hermione.
“It was an accident,” Harry pointed out.
“But I still feel sorry,” Hermione pouted.
“Alright then, you can make it up to me,” offer Harry in a knowing tone.
Hermione blushed and scooted closer to Harry.
“Would you like for me to make it up to you right now?” Hermione cooed in Harry’s ear.
Harry was very keen on that idea. He imagined Hermione disappearing under the table and giving him head in penance for the accident. But he knew that ‘Harry, Jr.’ was too damn tired and it would be fruitless to do so.
“Maybe a rain check?” Harry asked.
In response, Hermione kissed Harry on the lips.
“Am I interrupting?” a familiar voice asked.
Harry looked up to see Tonks standing across the table. He was suddenly very happy that ‘Harry, Jr.’ was sleepy; if the organ had been up for Hermione’s offer, Tonks would’ve walked in to see Hermione slide under the table.
“Tonks, you look beautiful!” Hermione commented. At first, Harry didn’t notice anything unusual about the Auror. She was wearing clothes a punk rocker would wear and her hair was bright blue; it was her normal look and Harry didn’t think that merited Hermione’s comment. But then he saw a rosy glow to Tonks’ face that accented her natural beauty.
“Remus proposed,” Tonks stated and her glow grew brighter.
Hermione shot out of her seat and rushed over to Tonks. The brunette witch threw her arms around Tonks.
“That’s wonderful, Tonks,” Hermione cheered.
Harry followed Hermione’s lead and hugged Tonks.
“Of course, he had to because of the baby,” Tonks commented. “But I still said yes.”
The three shared a laugh for a moment. Tonks’ eyes bulged when she finally noticed the bruise on Harry’s head.
“Either you did something bad or you did something very good to deserve that,” the Auror said to Harry. Harry tried to act cool and composed, but he felt his face heat up. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione’s face become flush.
“Oh, he did something really good, then,” Tonks quipped. “Did he make you cum?” she asked Hermione.
“Tonks!” Hermione scolded.
Then a wicked grin appeared on Tonks’ face. She quickly looked directly into Harry’s eyes then into Hermione’s.
“He’s shagged your eyes green!” Tonks heralded at the top of her lungs.
“Let me see,” Luna requested as she and Ron walked into the Great Hall. The blonde witch walked up to Hermione and cooed “Oh, they’re beautiful.”
“Are they different?” Ron asked.
“Yes Ron,” Hermione said in a perturbed manner. “They used to be completely brown.”
“I never noticed,” admitted Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes at her red-haired friend.
“Anyway, I’m here to drop this off,” Tonks said and she handed Hermione a small pink and blue envelope. “It’s an invitation to an emergency baby shower.”
“Who’s having a baby?” Luna asked.
“I am,” Tonks answered and raised her shirt so that she could proudly show her belly.
“And she and Remus are going to get married,” Hermione added and Tonks’ smile somehow got even brighter.
“Congratulations,” both Ron and Luna cheered.
“When are you due?” Luna asked.
“About two months,” Tonks said.
“Two months!” Luna said with surprise. “But you’re not even showing!”
“Yeah, these two effed up and tricked us into performing a ritual that made me preggers and accelerated the fetus’ growth,” explained Tonks. Luna nodded her head along with Tonks’ explanation while Ron just looked like he only understood “effed” and “preggers”.
“You know one of the things a pregnant witch needs is a lot of potassium, right?” Luna asked.
“Among a load of other things,” Tonks stated.
“Well a wizard’s semen has a high amount of potassium in it,” Luna said.
“Luna!” Hermione cried in shock.
“It’s true,” Luna defended. “At a certain point in her pregnancy, Tonks won’t be able to have sex, but she can still pleasure Professor Lupin and help herself out…”
“By swallowing,” concluded Tonks. Harry could tell by the mischievous look in her eyes that Remus was going to have a fun and enjoyable two months ahead of him.
Trying to get past the awkward conversation about oral sex and pregnancy, Hermione held up the invitation and said, “I’ll be there.”
“Oh, you can come too Luna,” Tonks said.
“Why can’t we come?” Ron asked indicating both he and Harry.
“Do you want to hang around a bunch of witches as we talk about dirty nappies and stretch marks?” asked Tonks.
“Um, no,” Ron answered.
“Besides, I thought about making it a shower for wizards and witches,” Tonks continued. “But when I fire-called your brothers Fred and George, they freaked out. They had blindfolded themselves for some reason and when I mentioned a shower they asked if any old witches would be there. I said that there would and they started to panic. So I decided to just invite witches.”
Harry felt a sense of pride warm his heart. The prank he and Hermione had pulled was still working and it had obviously scarred Fred and George.
“When is the shower?” Luna inquired.
“Tomorrow night,” Tonks informed her.
“That soon?” Hermione asked.
“I did say it was an emergency shower,” Tonks said.
“I’m sorry, I can’t go,” Luna said. “Ronald and I are having dinner with Daddy.”
“First dinner alone with your girlfriend’s dad, huh?” Tonks asked in a frisky way.
“Actually, we’re married now,” Luna corrected.
“Wow, you two move fast,” commented Tonks.
“You don’t know the half of it,” added Harry.
“Well the first meeting is always the most awkward,” Tonks began. “It was a disaster when I took Remus to see my folks. They weren’t too keen on me dating someone thirteen years older than me.”
“Hell, the first time I met Luna’s dad, he forced me to marry her,” Ron explained.
“Okay, you two win the awkwardness award,” Tonks retorted. “But my dad was pretty furious that Remus was about only ten years younger than him…”
As Tonks continued her story of the first time Remus met her folks, Harry noticed that Hermione had a peculiar look on her face.
“Are you okay?” Harry whispered in Hermione’s ear.
“Yes, but I’ve just realized that we need to do something,” Hermione paused and looked Harry straight in the eye. “I think its time for you to meet my parents.”
Being a true Gryffindor, Harry suppressed the urge to run like hell.
To Be Continued
Footnote (1): if anyone can guess this reference, they will receive an internet cookie!
Author’s Notes: Sorry about the long delay in updating, but I was having some issues with real life.

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