Introduction:
Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Thirty One: Tootsies and Booksies
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Thirty One: Harry and Hermione’s book gets printed and an old threat returns to loom over our hero’s head.
Harry and Hermione were about to finish performing The Double-Up Ward for the photo session. They considered this ritual to be key to the different protections being offered in their book, as this particular ward increased the strength and efficiency of all the other wards placed on the house of the participants by nearly one-hundred percent. This ritual was also especially enjoyable to perform as it called for the use of three of Hermione’s favorite toys: her anal beads, ball-gag, and a leather covered paddle. These toys were tied, inserted, and whacked much to her pleasure. It also required that Harry take a double dose of virility potion because after he came in her cunny, he had to promptly remove the anal-beads and sodomize her. A task which our young hero felt was his privilege to complete.
While Harry simultaneously buggered and paddled his happily gagged girlfriend, Luna, who had retrieved the discarded anal beads, was sniffing the hard rubber toy out of intellectual curiosity while Ron wanked himself and snapped pictures of the sex ritual – fortunately, the magical camera only needed one hand to operate, allowing the red haired wizard to relieve himself without neglecting his responsibilities as photographer. A moment before Harry climaxed for the second time, another powerful orgasm hit Hermione. A touch of her drool had sprayed out of the corners of her mouth and the ball-gag as she screamed in ecstasy.
After unloading a warm, sticky and very personal present in Hermione’s naughty place, Harry unclasped and removed the ball-gag letting Hermione take in a long, shuttering breath. Luna placed the rubber toy under her arm so that she could applaud.
“Bravo,” cheered the blonde. “That was fantastic!”
“I can’t feel my toes,” commented Hermione, with a satisfied glow to her face and body. Of course, that glow was significantly more pronounced on her spanked bottom, but that should go without saying.
After helping Hermione stand and guiding her to a comfy chair, Harry asked his friends, “What ritual should we do next?”
“How about the Degnoming Ritual?” offered Luna after she checked the list of rituals.
Harry looked at his girlfriend, who was wriggling her toes while smiling and stating “Nope, still can’t feel them. You really did a good job, Harry,” and the wizard sighed. The fact that he had shagged a portion of his girlfriend numb would normally be a noteworthy benchmark for the young wizard. However, having numb toes would hinder the Degnoming Ritual. This meant that either they would have to wait for Hermione to recover, or let Ron and Luna be the couple to perform the ritual. This, in Harry’s opinion, didn’t bode well.
Picking up on Harry’s apprehension, Ron announced “Don’t worry, mate. Luna and I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” the black haired wizard asked dubiously. It was a very simple ritual to execute: the couple had to take the missionary, and the witch needed to have her toes spread out wide while the wizard had to bend his left knee and hold his left foot in the air throughout the ritual. Ron and Luna had already performed a few dozen of the simpler rituals that had been created for the book. Unfortunately, the married couple had performed less of a third of them correctly. Sometimes they didn’t hold the position properly or, on more than one occasion, Ron “missed” his target and penetrated the wrong tender entrance on his wife. These fouled up rituals led to some very bad side-effects, including fires, toilets overflowing and flooding the loo, and windows shattering to name a few disasters.
“How can we possibly muck this one up?” Ron asked rhetorically, dismissing Harry’s concerns.
Acknowledging that the Degnoming Ritual was the simplest procedure he and Hermione had created, Harry nodded his head – giving Ron the go-ahead – and took his place behind the camera. Harry shook his head in disappointment the moment Ron and Luna began making love. Ron kept kicking out his legs with each thrust, while Luna alternated between stretching out her toes and flexing them. Both of their actions utterly ruined the ritual. Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, Harry snapped a picture. He figured he would simply add these photos to the pile of Ron and Luna’s failed attempts.
Once the married couple had completed the botched ritual, Harry looked out one of the windows when he heard some odd grunts emanating from outside. Peering down, Harry saw scores and scores of ugly gnomes milling about the exterior of the Shrieking Shack. Instead of repelling gnomes from the house and surrounding area, the muffed ritual drew the pesky creatures toward it.
SoG SoG SoG
The sun began to set on Sunday night as Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna cleaned up the Shack. This was a time consuming chore, seeing how the couples had sex scores of times all throughout the magically expanded house. Each room required several passes with cleaning charms in order to remove the ample amounts of semen and other sticky forms of residue that had accumulated during the previous three days.
While they each removed the various glamour charms and reverted to their natural appearances, Hermione asked Ron and Luna, “Do you want to go into Hogsmeade for something to eat?”
“No, you two go ahead. Ronald and I have some excess sexual energy to burn off,” Luna informed them.
“How can you have any more energy?” asked Harry. “We’ve all had so much sex over the last three days that I think my penis is in a coma.”
“I’m beat. I’m not even going to think about sex for a week,” agreed Hermione. Knowing his girlfriend and how utterly kinky she was, Harry doubted Hermione’s statement would hold up.
“My Ronald is a super-charged-love-bunny,” Luna said and she smiled happily. “He can go for days and days. I’d offer for you to watch, but you’ve seen us have sex one-hundred and twenty-one times since we began photographing the many rituals for the book.”
“You counted?” asked Harry in surprise.
“Of course I did. And Ronald gave me three hundred and twelve wonderful orgasms,” Luna returned lightly as if Harry’s question was silly. “I told you, my Ronald’s a super-charged-love-bunny.”
“What can I say; when you’ve got it, you’ve got it,” Ron said, his chest puffing up with pride. “C’mon sweetie, let’s make that three hundred and thirteen.”
“Oh, at least,” chirped Luna.
“Have fun you two,” said Harry and he led Hermione out of the Shrieking Shack. The moment the door closed, they could hear Ron and Luna’s moans of pleasure.
“Let’s go to Madam Puddifoots,” offered Hermione over Luna’s emphatic shout of “OH GOD YES! RIGHT THERE!”
“They serve food there?” asked Harry as he tried to ignore the loud squelching sound from behind the door.
“Sandwiches and the like, I believe,” Hermione said and led her boyfriend away from the noisy Shack.
When they entered the teashop, Harry was struck at how dark it was inside: only a few candles were lit. Harry assumed that this was intentional; the lack of light was supposed to enhance the romantic mood of the teashop. A plump and jolly witch, obviously Madam Puddifoot herself, greeted Harry and Hermione at the door and led them to a table.
“I’ve never been in here before,” commented Hermione in a hushed tone. Even though there was only one other couple in the restaurant, Hermione didn’t want anyone to be disturbed by – or listen in on – their conversation.
“This is my second time,” stated Harry. With a coy smile, he added playfully “You’re not going to pout and whine like Cho did, are you?”
“I’m no hosepipe, thank you very much,” the brunette said with a chuckle.
After the waitress took their order – Harry had butterbeer and a cucumber sandwich, while Hermione ordered elf-wine and a liverwurst and lettuce sandwich – Harry’s eyes adjusted enough to take in the shop. Tiny, cheap decorations littered the teashop and the damn cherubs that had been present when he and Cho had a date there were still all over the place. Then Harry noticed the only other customers; they were sitting against the wall a few feet away, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Courtney? Malfoy?” he asked in surprise.
“What are you two doing here?” asked Hermione.
“Oh, just going on a date,” informed Courtney. She had a pleasant – but naughty – smile on her lips whereas Draco looked like he was in some duress. Sweat coated his deeply furrowed brow, and his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His eyes, which were firmly fixed on the Auror in training, were half closed but they burned intensely.
“Is he okay?” asked Harry.
“Oh, yeah, he’s just peachy,” announced Courtney. To prove this point, the witch bent over, took hold of the edge of the tablecloth, and flipped it up over their empty plates. Because of the darkened interior of the teashop, Harry couldn’t see the area under the table too clearly. All he could tell was that Courtney’s shoes were off and had been placed to the side. He strained his eyes in order to see what Courtney was trying to show them.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” offered Courtney. She pulled out her wand and pointed it under the table. “Lumos.”
The image Harry saw when the beam of light from Courtney’s wand illuminated the space under the table both amazed and shocked him. Courtney had her bare feet in Draco’s lap. And there, in between her feet, was ‘Draco, Jr.’ so to speak. For several seconds, Harry couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scene before him. He was transfixed by the aforementioned amazing and shocking sight. Courtney worked her feet, rubbing, stroking, and massaging Draco’s hard shaft. Her toes flexed and she deftly pinched his spongy crown between her surprisingly dexterous digits. Using the arch of her left foot to hold Draco’s cock in place, Courtney dragged the ball and toes of her right down the underside of his shaft. The blond wizard rolled his head back and groaned as Courtney squeezed his manhood between her feet.
Mercifully, Harry was finally able to look away. It didn’t bother him that Courtney was giving a bloke a foot-job. What was troubling Harry was the fact that the John Thomas that Courtney was rubbing with her feet belonged to Draco. That would scare any rational person, he thought.
In order to avert his eyes from the sight, Harry fixed his gaze on Hermione. Unlike Harry, Hermione was unable to look away. Her expression was a mixture of interest, wonder, and disgust – Harry felt it was safe to assume that she felt interest and wonder over Courtney’s talented tootsies and the same level of disgust that Harry had over seeing Draco’s exposed and erect member.
“That’s amazing, Courtney,” congratulated Hermione with her nose scrunched up in distaste.
“It’s not too shabby, is it?” the Auror in training said with pride. “Some girls can tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue. I can use my toes to unzip a bloke’s trousers, pull his beef out, and wank him off. Which do you think is the more useful talent out of the two?”
Then, Draco grunted loudly and Courtney giggled girlishly. Clearly he had just blown his load and shot it all over her feet and shins.
Hermione politely applauded and stated, “You are a master, Courtney.”
“Thank you,” the witch replied and bowed her head, accepting Hermione’s praise. “Watch this.”
He knew he was going to regret it, but Harry couldn’t help but turn his attention back to the other couple. He watched as Courtney took hold of Draco’s softening member between her feet, she pushed the fleshy organ back into his trousers, and then she pinched his zipper between her first two toes and zipped his trousers shut.
“Ta-da!” cheered Courtney, throwing her arms over her head triumphantly.
“So I take it you two have hit it off?” asked Hermione.
Draco blushed and smiled demurely. The fact that Harry could refer to another bloke’s expression with such feminine terms frightened our hero. Did Harry subconsciously detect a touch of femininity in his school-nemesis? Harry gulped; perhaps he wasn’t out of the dreaded “Draco wants to bugger me” predicament as he had previously thought.
“No, we’re horrible together,” Courtney playfully replied to the brunette’s question. “Of course we hit it off, you silly witch! Do I need to show you his spunk on my feet as evidence to prove this?”
“Please don’t,” Hermione winced.
“Well, you two enjoy your dinner,” Courtney said and stood. She took the blond wizard’s hand and guided him out of his seat. “Draco and I are going to take care of his virginity problem.”
“Courtney,” Draco said with embarrassment.
“And just think, a few days ago you believed that Harry would be the one to pop your cherry,” Courtney returned impishly. Draco’s blush deepened. “Of course, that would’ve happened after you buggered him.”
At this point, Draco was such a brilliant red that he looked as if he had fallen asleep in the middle of the Gobi Desert and had received a severe sunburn from the exposure. This change in complexion warned Harry that Draco was not ashamed of his failed plan to woo and seduce the black haired wizard. In fact, Harry assumed that his school-nemesis was nervous and a little embarrassed by it, but not opposed to it. Harry’s concern that Draco still held a flame for him worsened. As Draco’s face continued to glow, Harry’s turned pale.
“Ta’,” Courtney said with a wave and she led Draco out of the tea shop. While the other couple was still within earshot, Harry could hear Courtney say affectionately to the blond wizard, “I’m going to conjure up a bit of silk ribbon and tie it around the base of your cock – not only to wrap it as a present to myself, but to help you from cumming too quickly.”
Harry, who was still fretting over Draco’s dubious orientation, had not noticed the naughty look in his girlfriend’s eyes. He was drawn out of his bothersome thoughts when he felt a pair of bare feet slide into his lap.
“Err, what are you doing?” he asked as Hermione’s feet fumbled gently on his crotch.
“Trying something new,” she replied. Harry recalled his earlier assumption that his kinky girlfriend had spoken too soon when she said earlier she wouldn’t even think about sex for days. The show that Courtney had given them had only encouraged Hermione and her sexually adventurous streak. After a moment of clumsy motions of attempting to grab hold of his zipper between her toes, she requested “Open your trousers and pull ‘Harry, Jr.’ out.” It appeared that Hermione was concentrating on the task at foot to use the proper term for penis and had instead used Harry’s pet nickname for his manhood.
Not being one to pass an opportunity at any form of sex, Harry willingly did as requested. Hermione held the tip of her tongue between her teeth and had one eye shut in concentration. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was just starting to wake up – the organ was more than eager to try something new – when something horrible happened. You see, if either Harry or Hermione had asked Courtney, she would’ve possibly told them that they needed to practice a bit before jumping right into the delicate art of a foot-job. Perhaps some time spent using a banana in proxy for the real thing until Hermione got the required gentle force and dexterity down. Unfortunately, the young couple discovered first hand (or is that first foot in this case?) that without hours of trial and error performed on inanimate objects to learn the intricacies of foot-jobs, mistakes happen. The particular mistake that Hermione committed dealt with her losing control and accidentally dropping the heel of her foot on Harry’s tender and hypersensitive testicles.
When the waitress came back with the two sandwiches and drinks, she must have been quite surprised to see Hermione who had her wide, guilt-filled eyes fixed on Harry as he had his head on the table with tears of pain welling up in his eyes.
Once the waitress left, Hermione asked “I’m going to have to work a lot to make this up to you, aren’t I?”
“Yes, yes you are,” Harry half groaned, half whimpered.
SoG SoG SoG
For the next two weeks, all of Hermione’s free time was entirely devoted to writing the book and serving her punishment for accidentally dropping her foot on Harry’s genitals. This retribution was paid with blowjobs while he ate breakfast, intense spanking sessions after morning lessons before lunch, anal sex in cupboards after dinner, and tittie-shagging before they fell asleep. As punishments went, Hermione thought hers were fairly enjoyable – especially the buggering and paddling.
It was decided upon by Harry and Hermione that since most of the photos of Luna and Ron showed the improper way to perform the rituals that the magical pictures of the married couple would be used in the book as warnings in a “Do Not Attempt the Rituals This Way” section. Each of that pair’s photos would contain alerts, notifying the reader the dangers of performing the ritual incorrectly. Such as drawing gnomes in droves or setting the house on fire.
To create the various pages of the book, Hermione used Sticking Charms to attach a photo onto a piece of parchment. She would then write lengthy directions, precautions, and a list of benefits under the photos. Even using wizarding photographs, some rituals needed multiple photos and several pages of directions, warning, and benefits. Once she was finished writing each page, she cast a special charm to turn her writing into block letters to make it look professional.
Finally, after hundreds of pages were composed and properly illustrated, Hermione set her quill down and announced proudly, “My first book is finished!” This was promptly followed by the brunette witch growling like a hungry puma and pouncing on Harry before shagging his brains out.
“CALL ME AN AUTHOR AND SLAP MY BOTTOM!” she cried out as she pounded herself on Harry’s lap, forcibly driving ‘Harry, Jr.’ into her sex.
SoG SoG SoG
“Luna, have you talked to your father about printing our book yet?” Hermione asked during lunch the next day.
“Yes, he informed me through a post I received yesterday that he’s made the necessary changes to switch the printer so that it can print and bind books,” the blonde said with a dreamy smile. “We can start this weekend.”
“That will be fabulous,” Hermione said. Her voice was a touch husky with a hint of lust.
“We still have to settle on a name then shouldn’t we?” asked Harry. “We can’t print a book without a title.”
“I know,” Ron stated. “How about ‘Ron Weasley and the -”
“No, Ron!” Hermione said, cutting him off irritably. “We’ve been through this already.”
“Mate,” Harry began, “you have to remember the book is not about you. It’s never been about you. I don’t know why you or anyone would think that the book focuses on you.”
“If anyone should have their name before the title, it should be Harry’s,” Hermione continued. “It was because his love power base that we stumbled upon the original book. And he’s the one who came up with the plan to write a new one to help the people of wizarding Britain. So if the book’s title was going to contain anyone’s name, it would read ‘Harry Potter and the…’. Definitely not ‘Ron Weasley and the…’”
“They’re right, Ronald,” Luna added, soothing her husband before he could retort with one of his illogical and baseless arguments. “Anyway, we were using disguises and aliases. So even if this was an alternate reality where the book inexplicably ended up focusing on you, it could never be a story about ‘Ron Weasley’.”
“I think we should use the title Harry suggested but with a minor change,” speculated Hermione. “I think we should call it ‘Books of Love Magic: Volume One’.”
“Wait – ‘Volume One’? Do you mean you plan on writing more?” asked Harry. The dark and lustful look in Hermione’s eyes told him her answer as well as informing him that they would be devising and practicing new rituals for the next book within a few hours.
“How do we plan on selling it?” asked Luna.
“Well, Alicia works at Franklin’s of Cardiff, so we can probably sell it there,” offered Harry, slightly distracted by the lusty look in his girlfriend’s eyes – which were growing darker and darker with want and desire by the second. So much so that Harry had to reassess his estimated time. Judging by the look his lover was giving him, he assumed that the moment they stepped out of the Great Hall, Hermione would drag Harry to a nearby broom cupboard. The notion of being a published author was making Hermione so randy that Harry reckoned that his lover must have been practically dripping by that point. Of course, the mere idea of his lover being so turned on caused Harry to become aroused himself.
“And we should have Fred and George market it,” Ron added, clearly happy to add something useful to promote the plan, for a change. “After all, they do a bang up job promoting the joke shop. I think they’d do wonders for the book.”
“That would be great,” Harry agreed. “After we stop by Luna’s dad’s, we’ll head over to the twins’ shop and talk to them about it.”
“This will be wonderful!” cheered Luna. “As to which one of us should get top billing so to speak, I think since Hermione has done all of the work, her nom de plume should get be first, with our names listed as her co-contributors at best.”
Bolstered by Luna’s declaration making her the main author, Hermione dropped all pretenses and snaked her hand into Harry’s trousers. After his lover gave ‘Harry, Jr.’ a squeeze and a stroke, Harry decided to copy Hermione’s actions and he slid his hand up her skirt, pushed his fingers under her knickers, and wriggled into her moist folds. After all, Harry prided himself on fair-play and being a gentleman. And if he didn’t slide two fingers deep into her already hot, wet, and quivering sex while she wanked him off, it would be rude and inconsiderate of him.
“You two are so deliciously kinky!” cheered Luna, knowing full well what Harry and Hermione were doing in the middle of the crowded Great Hall. “Just like Stripped-Kildrickles during mating session!”
“Luna, would you mind casting a Silencing Charm on Hermione?” requested Harry as his lover closed her eyes in near ecstasy. “You know how much of a screamer she is.”
“Oh, poo,” bemoaned Luna with an exaggerated pout. “Hermione’s boisterous cries of passion are very entertaining. Not hearing her scream out ‘Sweet Baby Maeve’ every so often would be a dreadful disappointment for me.”
“We’ll make it up to you later,” Hermione groaned out.
“I want arse-to-mouth,” demanded the blonde dreamily. “That’s how you can make it up to me. I get to watch Harry bugger you, Hermione, then he has to cum in your mouth and you must swallow like the dirty witch you are.”
“Luna!” Harry said in shock and scandal.
“”Fine, just have a mouth-cleansing charm ready for me afterwards,” Hermione said. Clearly she was not shocked or scandalized in the slightest over this demand. In fact, her eyes darkened even more. Obviously, Hermione was keen to try this new and naughty activity. Harry eyed his girlfriend appreciatively: would there ever be a time where he wouldn’t be amazed at just how kinky Hermione could be?
Having gotten her way, Luna giggled triumphantly before twirling her wand and casting the Silencing Charm on Harry and Hermione. The timing of this charm was impeccable, for Hermione cried out a mere second after it was cast. Judging by how much she flowed into his hand, Harry guessed that her scream would’ve echoed off the walls.
If the charm was not in place, Harry knew that loud squelching sounds would be emanating from Hermione. Her honey dripped off of his fingers as he continued to pump and rub away. Of course, Harry was not one to point fingers – even if those fingers weren’t busy stimulating his lover. He, too, was making wet squelching sounds. Thanks to his girlfriend’s firm and loving touch, sizable amounts of pre-cum dripped out of ‘Harry, Jr.’s eye.
While he stimulated Hermione and she him, Harry scanned his fellow students gathered in the Great Hall. Once in a while, someone would look in Harry and Hermione’s direction. Thankfully, these people seemed not to notice what the couple was doing despite their bright red and sweat covered faces. Everyone was too caught up in their own dealings to have noticed the impromptu hand-job session occurring at the Gryffindor table.
Luna had her elbows on the table and chin perched on her hands and she watched Harry and Hermione happily. There was a joyous twinkle in her eyes and a pleased grin on her face. It was clear that Luna had openly embraced her new voyeur leanings. When Hermione’s second climax struck, the blonde witch complimented Harry at his task; “Harry, you’re doing a splendid job.”
Obviously, both Ron and Luna were enjoying the show. However, whereas Luna was merrily content to watch, Ron looked as if he was having difficulty not masturbating himself right there and then. The wizard’s hands kept clenching into fists while beads of sweat blossomed all over his face.
Noticing her husband’s discomfort, Luna said in a soothing voice, “That erection of yours must be terribly uncomfortable, dear. Your penis is confined in your trousers, all scrunched up, throbbing away, and begging for release. I, too, am aching just watching. But since you and I aren’t as adventurous as Harry and Hermione, we can’t take care of our urges here in public. Once they finish, I’ll take you to a cupboard and we’ll fix our problems.”
Finally, Harry shot his load down his trouser leg. Being the naughty witch that she was, Hermione made a show of licking her fingers.
Harry was about to make a comment regarding how lucky he was to have Hermione as a lover when he noticed something he had not seen before. From his seat at the Slytherin table, Draco had his grey eyes firmly locked on Harry. The blond wizard had a coy, impish smile while he winked theatrically at Harry.
“Um, we have to talk to Courtney and see how things went with Malfoy,” Harry gulped.
“You just got wanked by your girlfriend and the first thought you have is about Malfoy?” Ron asked snidely. “You can’t be that interested in that git’s love life, can you?”
“If it will save me from being buggered, then yes, I am interested.”
SoG SoG SoG
After explaining that they were leaving the castle for an important, yet ambiguous, errand, Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Ron used McGonagall’s fireplace to floo-travel to the Lovegood home.
Taking Luna’s odd intricacies into account, Harry was expecting that the Lovegood home would be unique to say the least and attempted to prepare himself for this. Despite this preparation, what Harry saw while picking himself off the floor after he gracelessly tumbled out of the floo shocked him.
Doilies.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of round lace and linen doilies of every size and design littered the house. There were doilies carefully placed under each foot of every piece of furniture. Instead of throw pillows, frilly doilies lovingly graced the squashy chairs and couch. Dozen were placed on top of books as dust covers and some small doilies were placed in several books as page-markers. Scores were hung from the walls like fine pieces of art. Some of the larger cloth circles were placed strategically like stepping stones on the floor to guide guest to the kitchen and loo.
“Daddy has a penchant for doilies. He’s collected quite a number of them,” informed Luna conversationally as if everyone had such a peculiar hobby.
“I… I can see that,” Harry said in wide-eyed wonder.
A wizard with a touch of grey in his blond hair came bounding out of the hallway. The wizard, obviously Luna’s father appeared perfectly normal and sane. But the doily that he wore at a jaunty angle on top of his head in lieu of a hat shattered this appearance.
“Luna, my darling daughter!” he greeted the blonde witch with an affectionate hug.
“Hello, Daddy!” she returned and kissed his cheek.
“Now, dear, I’ve made the necessary adjustments to the printer so that it will make books instead of my highly informative and entertaining newspaper,” stated Mr. Lovegood. “But I can’t stay around and help you out. There’s a wonderful doily convention in Berlin that I simply must attend. They’ll be displaying the new Smithenhoff pattern today and I can’t miss that!”
“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll handle everything,” Luna said cheerfully.
“Brilliant! Well, then, I’m off!” Mr. Lovegood said before dashing to the fireplace. He threw a pinch of floo into the flames and shouted “The Berlin Convention Centre!” before disappearing.
“The printer is this way,” stated Luna, leading the others down into the house’s cellar. Of course, the steps leading down to the cellar were covered with doilies, much like the rest of the house.
A massive contraption made out of wood, iron, and rock with steam-pipes, bells, knobs, dials, and leavers dominated the cellar. On one end of the device was a small drawer and the opposite side had a hole that opened onto a conveyor belt.
“It’s fairly simple to operate; you put the source material into this drawer,” said Luna, pointing to the drawer. “Then the patented Lovegood Publishing Apparatus will copy, print, and bind the material. The finished product will come out on the conveyor belt.
“Is the book ready? Everything is in order the way you want it?” Luna asked Hermione.
“Yes,” Hermione replied. The brunette witch pulled the large, neat, and orderly stack of parchment that she had worked so tirelessly on out of her bag and handed it to Luna. “But I haven’t made a book cover yet.”
“Oh that’s simple; the patented Lovegood Publishing Apparatus will make one for us,” the blonde replied and took the stack of parchment from Hermione and set it in the drawer. She turned back to Hermione and asked, “How does a nice faux-leather cover dyed light red sound to you?”
“That would be lovely,” Hermione answered with a smile.
Luna pulled out her wand and tapped the machine several times in a seemingly random pattern for several seconds. Then the machine began to make a groaning noise that reminded Harry of the sounds that would emanate from Dudley’s stomach when the obese boy had not eaten his weight in bacon for a period of longer than four hours. The drawer closed on its own and the groaning grew louder and louder. The machine began to vibrate and shake violently. In a matter of moments, the machine made a loud, wet, belching sound and a large red book dropped out of the opening and landed on the conveyor belt.
With a noticeable tremble in her hands, Hermione carefully picked up the freshly printed book. Lovingly, she caressed its face which bore in elegant, gold lettering; “Books of Love Magic, Volume One by Mona Puckle with Tim Hunter, Neil Gaiman, and Perky Weatherby.” With her eyes shimmering, she looked at Harry and euphorically announced, “I’m an author!”
Directly after this proclamation, Hermione had an orgasm so powerful that her knees gave way. Hermione loved books so much that holding one that she actually wrote was enough to send her to the heights of physical rapture. The machine belched again and another book was deposited on the conveyor belt. And Hermione groaned even louder. Harry watched intently as his lover moaned and trembled while clutching the book to her breast. And needless to say, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was urgently suggesting that they should go over there, pull Hermione’s knickers down, and help with her orgasms. This seemed like a novel idea to Harry; after all, he was Hermione’s boyfriend and it was his right as such to participate and share in her orgasms.
When the fourth book was printed – corresponding with Hermione’s fourth orgasm – Luna advised, “Perhaps we should take Hermione out of here? It seems that she’s having a climax every time a book is printed. Not that I don’t enjoy watching her ecstasy – which I truly do – but I think that Hermione may be in danger of dying of dehydration. This is a likely outcome since we’re going to print eight hundred copies in this initial run.” Luna’s stating of the projected number of copies triggered yet another body jarring climax for Hermione.
After scooping her up in his arms, Harry carried Hermione out of the cellar. While they walked up the stairs, Hermione continuously shivered and muttered, “I’m an author! – OH! – I’m an author! – OH!”
SoG SoG SoG
Once Hermione recovered – which included a quick yet completely shattering shag where she had clutched her book to her bosom and had wrapped her legs around Harry as he pounded away at her and the brunette shouted “I’M AN AUTHOR!” continuously, then a shower – the two couples made their way to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. Instead of the standard bell chiming when the door open, a loud, obnoxious, pants-staining fart sounded as the four friends walked into the shop.
Much like every other store in Diagon Alley, the twins’ shop was devoid of customers. The threat of Voldemort and his minions had scared everyone into hiding in their homes.
Obviously drawn to the sound of the unique door “chime,” Fred came strolling around the corner.
“Welcome to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes!” he greeted the two couples.
“Fred, why are you wearing a blindfold?” asked Harry curiously.
“Ah, it’s you, Harry,” stated Fred without removing his blindfold. “Are there any witches of… ahem, advanced age with you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just me, Hermione, Ron, and Luna,” Harry informed.
“Brilliant! George, it’s safe to come out!” Fred called out while tugging off his blindfold. He blinked as his eyes became accustomed to the light.
“What’s with you two?” demanded Ron.
“It’s bloody Remus,” Fred began hotly as his twin took his place at his side.
“He pranked us back at Ginny’s birthday,” added George with an equal amount of anger to his voice.
“Ever since then, we’ve been forced to see through old witches’ clothing.”
“Do you have any idea of how much tits sag on a ninety year-old witch?” asked Fred.
“We do regrettably,” answered George, and both twins shivered in disgust.
Harry and Hermione shared a guilty look. It appeared that the little prank they pulled on Fred and George months ago was still in effect. Perhaps Harry’s power-boost had an unforeseen result, extending the length of the short-term spell.
“And the worst part is that Remus claims he had nothing to do with it,” continued Fred.
“Yeah, says he couldn’t have done it cause he wasn’t even there that night,” George stated.
“But we know he’s a Marauder. Little things like that wouldn’t stop him from pulling a prank.”
“So you two answer the door to your shop with blindfolds on, just in case your customer is an old witch?” asked Luna.
“It’s a necessary precaution in order not to see drooping and sagging bits and pieces,” answered George sagely.
An idea popped up in Harry’s head. He gave Hermione a look that told her to play along. But this look also asked Hermione to remain silent because Harry was about to lie. And since his lover was such a horrible liar, he knew that if she tried to help Harry, she’d give everything away and ruin his plan. The black haired wizard turned back to the twins and offered, “What if we convinced Remus to lift the curse?”
“That would be bloody fantastic!” cheered Fred.
“Too right, we’d owe you so much if you could do that,” George said.
“That’s great because we need a favor from you two,” stated Harry.
“If you got Remus to end this horrific and penis-shriveling prank, I’ll convince Fred to go down on you,” offered George. To which Fred nodded his head enthusiastically. Clearly, the continual shock of seeing every elderly witch naked had taken its toll on the twins; they were willing to do anything in order for it to end.
“Well, instead of sickening sexual favors, how about you two just promote a book for me?” Harry asked.
“What kind of a book?” one of the twins asked.
“A book on sex magic,” answered Harry as he handed Fred one of the copies.
Fred thumbed through the book with George looking over his shoulder. “Merlin, we heard about the Pensieves you two passed around Hogwarts, but we didn’t realize that you had grown so bloody kinky,” said George as he eyed one of the many photos in the book.
“That’s not us,” objected Hermione. “They’re friends of ours. You wouldn’t know them.”
As stated previously, Hermione was a poor liar. One might easily argue that the witch was a pathetic fibber. Her voice, which was warbling noticeably, was much higher than normal and her face burned a bright red as she denied George’s assumptions. Of course, this only served to confirm said assumption.
“Cor, Hermione, you’re a nimble minx,” commented Fred after turning another page.
“I swear this will help us get over the trauma of seeing naked decrepit witches,” added George while looking at one of the pictures with wide, impressed eyes.
“SWEET BUGGERING MORGAN LA FEY!” exclaimed Fred after he turned further into the book. “It’s always the smart witches, isn’t it?”
With a proud smile on his lips and in his eyes, George walked to Harry and hugged him. George said with naked pride, “Hang on to her, my boy. Don’t let her go.”
“Getting back to the matter at hand,” Hermione interrupted. Fred turned the book on its edge so that he could get a better angle on one of the photos. “Any suggestions as to how you two can promote this book?”
“Oh, we have some – SHE SWALLOWS?” cried out Fred. Once again, George pulled Harry into a tight embrace and spoke softly and earnestly, “Do not ever let her go. Every bloke should cherish a bird that does anal and swallows.”
“Hey, so does Luna!” Ron offered, clearly hoping to earn some of his brothers’ praise.
“She does?” George asked in awe.
“Where the hell do you two find such magnificently adventurous and open minded witches?” Fred asked Ron and Harry. “And can you find a set for George and me?”
“The last time we asked a bird if we could bugger her, she slapped us in the face and we never heard from her again,” explained George.
“Wait, ‘we’ and ‘us’?” Harry asked. “Don’t tell me both of you were asking the same girl at the same time?”
“Why not?”
“We’re twins.”
“We do everything together.”
“Even the same witch.”
“Yeah, they’ve got three holes after all and there are two of us.”
“Plenty of entry points, if you ask us.”
“Course we’ve only had access to two of those holes and, unlike Harry and our dear brother, have been denied the third, and most prized, hole.”
“How are you going to promote it?” interrupted Hermione, hoping not to hear any more on how much the twins shared.
“We’ll think of something,” replied the twins in unison.
“Where do you plan on selling this?” asked Fred. “It’s not like Flourish and Blotts will carry this.”
“We were thinking about Franklin’s of Cardiff,” answered Harry. “Alicia works there.”
“Speaking of which, we better head over there and see if she’ll even sell the book before you two start making plans on how to hype it,” Hermione said to the twins.
“Oh, don’t worry. We won’t be thinking of any plans today,” George said.
“Yeah, we’ll be wanking like mad over this book for the next few hours or so,” added Fred.
“Hey, you do realize that one of the blokes in those pictures is me, right?” Ron asked, shaken over the notion that his brothers were planning on pleasuring themselves over photos that depicted him.
“Don’t worry, dear brother,” assured Fred. “We won’t wank while looking at you.”
“We will, however, gladly and unreservedly wank while ogling your wife,” offered George.
“She’s got wonderful knockers,” complimented Fred.
“Epic, they are,” added George.
“Why, that’s so sweet,” Luna said sincerely while blushing at Fred and George’s crude compliments. “I’d pop open my blouse and give you a live viewing of them out of appreciation of your kind words. But as you’re Ronald’s brothers, that’d be inappropriate to do.”
Before the twins could voice a protest, Harry asked the top-heavy blonde, “If you don’t mind, could I take a gander?”
“Of course I don’t mind, Harry. Don’t even hesitate to ask,” Luna said with a genuine smile. “Once we’re out of view of the twins, I’ll open my blouse and you can look to your heart’s content.”
“Wait a tick, Harry and Ron are best friends,” Fred began to argue.
“They’re practically brothers,” continued George.
“And we need to see a set of young breasts…”
“… especially after being forced to see ancient witches’ sagging tits for months.”
“I’m sorry to say there’s a whole world of difference between ‘like a brother’ and ‘is a brother’,” Luna pointed out, denying the twins’ request yet again.
“I say you show ‘em,” offered Ron. “Just so they can see just what I get to play with every night.”
“And every morning,” corrected Luna, “as well as most afternoons. But since you’ve given me permission to expose myself to your brothers, I’ll gladly do it. After all, I do so love letting my breasts out in the open air.”
“Prepare to be amazed,” Harry told the twins.
Luna presented her covered chest to Fred and George and theatrically threw her blouse open. The twins’ eyes bounced in time with Luna’s own “twins” as her giant orbs sprang free.
“Oh, those are…” Fred muttered.
“Spectacular,” stated George.
“Now remember, look but don’t touch,” Ron warned. “As her husband, I’m the only one who can touch her titties.”
“Besides me that is,” announce Hermione, as she stepped up behind Luna. The brunette wrapped her arms around Luna’s sizable chest and playfully pinched both of her large nipples for everyone to see. This action caused Luna to giggle, which in turn caused her to jiggle.
The twins and Ron’s faces went white as sheets as every ounce of blood raced to their respective organs to reinforce their rapidly growing erections caused by the sight of one witch playing with another’s boobs. Harry knew this was happening to the Weasley brothers because the exact same thing was happening to him.
“Um, okay, we’ll get started on ideas to promote your book,” George said in a very small voice.
“That is after we’ve wanked ourselves raw,” Fred, whose voice was equally small, adjusted.
“That goes without saying,” concluded his twin.
“While you two are doing that, we’ll take our witches into a dark alley and have them take care of our erections,” teased Harry.
“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Fred said with a touch of envy.
“That’s a wonderful idea!” cheered Hermione. “I’ll have Harry cum on my bottom and he can rub it in.”
The twins were about to make a witty retort, but another of Hermione’s frolicsome pinches of Luna’s nipples took their breath away.
“Enjoy masturbating,” teased Harry as he led his lover and their friends out of the shop.
“We will,” replied Fred and George.
SoG SoG SoG
At Franklin’s of Cardiff, Harry told Alicia about the book while Hermione, Luna, and Ron browsed the toy section of the sex shop. Every once in a while, Harry could hear Hermione giggle excitedly – presumably she would do this over some new sex toy or product.
“You two are certainly kinky aren’t you?” Alicia asked while scanning through the book.
Realizing that denying the truth would be pointless, Harry forged ahead and asked, “Do you think you could sell the book here?”
“Sure, little good it will do,” she replied. “I haven’t had a customer in days. And the last one only bought a pair of discounted knickers and nothing else. Most days, it doesn’t pay to even open the doors.”
“We’ve got Fred and George on marketing,” informed Harry. “Hopefully they’ll be able to raise interest.”
“That should be interesting. Knowing those two, it should be something big and spectacular,” Alicia commented. The witch paused on one page in particular and her eyes bulged. She held it up so Harry could see the picture, and asked, “Didn’t this hurt?”
“You have to stretch up a bit before you try it. There are a few exercises in the first chapter so that you and your boyfriend can do it without hurting yourselves,” Harry informed, not bothered in the slightest about giving hints on sexual positions to his former Quidditch teammate.
Hermione finally came running up to the counter and deposited an armful of toys and gadgets.
“Looks like you’re going to be busy tonight, Harry,” Alicia commented as she tallied up all of Hermione’s toys. The witch paused and held up a rubber plug and announced “From what I’ve heard and what I’ve seen in this book, I’m positive you’ll like this one.”
After Harry paid for Hermione’s toys, Alicia sniffed the air and asked “Why do you lot smell of sex?”
“That’s because Ronald and I, as well as Harry and Hermione, had sex in the alley just before we came in,” explained Luna. “Harry came on Hermione’s bottom.”
“Ah, that’s why the odor is so potent,” Alicia said with a smile.
SoG SoG SoG
After stopping in their chambers, where Harry stuffed one of Hermione’s new toys – a ribbed, pink, bum-plug – up her bottom, the young couple made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. As they walked… well, as Harry walked and Hermione limped – he proudly commented, “You are such a kinky girl.”
“And you love it,” Hermione said with a smile.
“Oh God, yes.”
“Then you better heed the twins’ suggestion: ‘Never let me go,’” she said with no shame as the plug wriggled in her bottom with each step.
“Oh, I’ll never let that happen,” Harry said and placed an affectionate kiss on her cheek. Jokingly, he added, “It would be downright stupid of me to let a girl who likes to swallow leave.”
“And don’t forget buggering,” offered a familiar voice. Courtney strolled around the corner and clarified, “Never let a girl go who likes to get bum-shagged. They’re definitely a keeper.”
“Very true,” Hermione said with a nod.
“Speaking of buggery; is that why you’re walking with a limp?” Courtney asked as she fell in step with the teen lovers. “Did Harry roger you so hard that he hobbled you?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I have a rather large and exceedingly pleasant plug up my bottom,” Hermione answered. Brazenly, the brunette added; “Although, after supper, Harry’s going to spank me silly, pop the plug out, and then shag me so hard that I’ll be limping even without the plug.”
“Both of you are so wildly naughty,” Courtney congratulated. “Even if Draco and I had sex in every cupboard in the castle – which we’re trying to do before term is up, it’s important to set goals – we’ll never reach the lofty heights you two have set.”
Harry stopped walking and asked in a serious, but nervous tone, “Ah, Courtney, about Draco. He’s still giving me the ‘eye.’”
“Oh, that,” Courtney said with a cute blush to her cheeks. “I wasn’t completely correct when I said Draco wasn’t a poofter. After some ‘probing,’” she said the word knowingly, “I’ve changed my assessment – Draco’s mostly not-gay. I’d say he’s about twenty to thirty percent light in the loafers. This makes him mostly straight, I’m more than happy to say.”
Harry gulped fearful over the notion that Malfoy was gay – even if it was only twenty or thirty percent.
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Hermione asked. She, too, was fearful over this development. Of course she wasn’t as worried as Harry. But then again, she wasn’t the one Malfoy wanted to bugger.
“Well, have you ever heard of pegging?” the Auror in training asked.
“No,” Harry and Hermione both replied.
“Well, then, I can’t tell you what it is, because it’ll probably give Hermione some ideas,” Courtney informed. She explained “But, pegging doesn’t make a bloke gay, necessarily. However, the words and phrases of encouragement that Draco was saying – or rather shouting at the top of his lungs – kind of told me he still craves some stiff man-meat. A rather specific man’s meat, if you follow my meaning. If you don’t, I’m referring to Harry’s meat.”
Again, Harry gulped. This time, he swallowed a mouthful of hot bile that had been threatening to escape.
“Don’t worry, sugar,” Courtney said comfortingly. “I’m just the girl to keep him from trying to hump you.” She patted Harry on the shoulder and said cheerfully; “Speaking of which – I’m off to go shag my blond-boy-toy! There’s a bunch of cupboards on the third floor we haven’t fucked in yet!”
With a happy trot, Courtney left Harry and Hermione to go fetch Draco.
“I think I lost my appetite,” announced Hermione who had a green tinge to her face.
Harry, who assumed that his complexion was a shade that would of put Hermione’s green tinge to shame, just nodded his head in agreement. As a pair, the two turned and headed back to their chambers in silence. Harry was so lost in thoughts of Draco still pining away for him that he had forgotten about Hermione’s bum-plug and subsequent plan of spankings and shag.
However, Harry’s fears over the threat of Draco were chased from his head when he and Hermione entered their chambers to find a brilliant, silver doe waiting for them.
To Be Continued

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