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Confund Us

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The heart-pounding moment still echoed in his ears the next morning as he laid in the Hospital Wing bed.

“Harry, Harry, you’re very confused, you’ve been through a dreadful ordeal,” the Minister said. “Lie back down, now, we’ve got everything under control…”

“YOU HAVEN’T!” Harry yelled. “YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!”

“Minister, listen, please,” Hermione said; she had hurried to Harry’s side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge’s face. “I saw him too. It was Ron’s rat, he’s an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and—”

“You see, Minister?” said Snape. “Confunded, both of them… Black’s done a very good job on them…”

“WE’RE NOT CONFUNDED!” Harry roared.

“Minister! Professor!” said Madam Pomfrey angrily. “I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!”

“I’m not distressed, I’m trying to tell them what happened!” Harry said furiously. “If they’d just listen—”

But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry’s mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

“Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave—”

They had managed to save Sirius, sure, but only by breaking who knows how many laws and going back in time in order to do it. Plus, Pettigrew had escaped and there was no telling where he went. Harry kind of wished that Professor Lupin had found him while he was still a werewolf and eaten him but then they’d never prove Sirius’s innocence.

He couldn’t believe it though, how could one word from Snape – Confunded – be so powerful that nothing they could say or do could fight it? He hated feeling that powerless so there was really only one thing he could do and that was exactly what Hermione would’ve done. ‘When in doubt, go to the Library,’ Ron had said of her last year and he was right; it did work though, not that he’d ever let her know it.

Harry put on his glasses and looked over at his two best friends.

The sun was just peeking into the hospital wing’s windows but they were still fast asleep in their beds, which wasn’t surprising with how eventful last night had been. He and Hermione had actually stayed awake for three hours longer than anyone else – though with how much time traveling she’d done this year that was only a guess – so he decided that she could probably use the rest. It looked like Ron’s broken leg was mended, though he had never been much of a morning person to begin with, so rather than waking them up he just let them sleep.

After a quick once-over by Madam Pomfrey, Harry made his way to the Library; the doors were open but no one was likely to be there since exams were over. Inside, he wandered about with no idea where to start looking; was Confunded a curse, a hex? Going by the how wizards liked matching the first letter of things together he thought it’d be a charm, but what kind?

That was when he turned a corner and almost walked right into the Hufflepuff Seeker that had beaten them in Quidditch this year – but only with Dementor help.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” the older boy asked from where he sat with his books as if they actually knew each other.

“Nothing,” he said quickly as he turned to walk away. “I’m just looking for something.”

“I’ll help,” the larger boy said as he got up to follow him. “I still feel bad for the Dementors ruining our match, not to mention destroying your broom. Gryffindor still managed to win the Cup but that’s not the point, is it?”

That got Harry to stop and turn around. Fred and George had said that – what was his name, Diggory? – had tried to get Madam Hooch to do a rematch but he’d had other things on his mind back then.

“You really meant it about having a do-over, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Cedric said with a look as he joined him. “Where’s the honor in winning if you have to cheat to do it?”

“Er – right,” Harry said with grudging approval. It didn’t take away the sting of the loss, but it did help.

“In fact if I had my way we’d all be playing on the same brooms, that way it’d all be about skill, not about equipment.”

Harry didn’t say anything to that because he certainly wasn’t going to volunteer to give up his Firebolt when it was the fastest broom in the world.

“So what are you looking for?” the other boy asked.

“Oh – er – I’m trying to find out what ‘Confunded’ means,” he replied.

“It means you’ve been hit with the Confundus Charm. It’s over here near the Memory Charms,” Cedric said as he led him further into the Library. “Why would you be looking for that though?”

“Snape called me Confunded but I didn’t know what it meant,” Harry replied briskly.

“Ah,” the boy said distractedly as he stopped to crouch down near the bottom row of one of the shelves.

Looking about Harry reached out to grab a book called The Confundus Among Us when Cedric popped back up with a small book of his own.

“This will probably tell you everything you could possibly want to know,” he said as he passed the book to him and looked at the one he'd been about to take down. “Oh, you should always avoid the books that're placed in easy reach, they're pretty much written for idiots who only do the bare minimum," Cedric explained. "All the really good ones are at the bottom or the very top; no one ever looks there."

"Er – thanks," he replied. Thinking that it'd be rude not to say something more than that Harry asked, "So what are you doing in here anyway? I thought finals were over."

"They are but I figured I'd check my answers to see how well I did," the older boy said with a shrug. "After all, why wait weeks to find out?"

"Good point," Harry replied, thinking that it sounded like a particularly boring and Hermione-like thing to do. "Well, I don't want to interrupt you any more than I already have, so I'll just leave you to it," he said before the boy could invite him to join him. "Er – thanks for the book."

"Not a problem," Cedric said as Harry turned to walk away. "And Harry," the boy continued quickly, drawing his attention back. "Next year we'll beat you fair and square," he said with a smile before giving a small wave and heading back to his seat.

Harry looked for a place to sit, well away from the other boy. Everyone knew that Hufflepuffs were odd but Cedric seemed barely human. He was about as un-Slytherin as anyone could possibly get.

Reaching one of the tables that he, Ron, and Hermione had used for doing homework before Harry sat down to look at what Cedric had seemed to pick for him at random. Finally seeing the title though he had to wonder just how bad wizards could get with their fondness for naming things. It was called Curious Confundus Charm Cases by Cecil Cadwallader and the title probably would've been a lot longer if this Cecil person had been able to think of any more C-starting words to cram into it.

'Confundo, the Confundus Charm,' the book started out, 'was once better known as the Confusing Curse before it entered the realm of mental healing because it's often been used to make people believe things that they absolutely know to be a lie.'

Harry could see now why Snape had claimed that they were Confunded. How better to not have to acknowledge the truth than to make the person telling it believe that the truth was a lie? He continued on.

'What the people using it in this way fail to realize though is that in forcing a person to act contrary to what they know to be true will only result in rebellion, and that rebellion resides in the target's persons own damaged mind that they're supposed to be trying to heal. This rebellion only further damages the mind for it pits the target's mind against itself and will inevitably result in increasingly strange behavior, which will eventually result in a need for the patient to return for proper treatment.'

This passage struck him as rather odd. Harry had been to the hospital wing often enough but he had never once wondered if there was any other sort of hospital or what their doctors were like. Surely the whole world couldn't rely on Madam Pomfrey for everything.

'A more proper way to treat such mind-damaged patients would be to use the Confundus Charm to reinforce a basic fact about themselves – the most innocuous the better – that the person already knows to be true. While this may not do much in itself, it can then be used to build upon – either through continued Confunding or simply through a more passive persuasive protocol, like conversation – in order to achieve the larger mental reconstruction and healing that's required to bring the patient back in line with reality.'

While this hadn't been at all like what he had been expecting, Harry had to admit that it was rather interesting. Something like what this person was suggesting, starting things small and building to a larger more natural change, was so at odds with what they usually taught them that magic did. He wondered why this wasn't taught more often before realizing that when magic could do huge changes in a second, no one would be interested in doing things in a slower but better way.

The book continued on to show how something like this could be applied to various conditions that required what they called 'mind healing' and soon became increasingly boring. And though it did contrast how the smaller-change method compared to the strange behavior that the larger-change method resulted in, it didn't give any help at all to someone trying to fight the charge of being Confunded. After all, as the book pointed out, if someone were properly and repeatedly Confunded then you could get them to think, feel, and believe anything you wanted them to.

"Harry! There you are," someone said quietly nearby and he turned to see Hermione, his wild-haired and bookish best friend. "We've been looking all over for you."

"Oh," Harry said, wondering how long he'd been reading. "Where's Ron?"

"He went to the great hall after we'd checked the dorms," she replied, her sharp eyes darting the book in his hands. "He said it was to look for you but he probably just wanted breakfast. What are you reading?" she asked somewhat suspiciously due to his lack of interest in studying.

He quickly told her how he'd hated how being called Confunded and how not knowing how to say they weren't without everyone taking it as proof that they were had ruined everything last night and Hermione was quick to agree.

"Wait–," Harry said to something she'd said. "You knew what Confunded meant?"

"Of course I did," she replied as she sat next to him and his nose twitched at some floral scent. "I came across it a few months ago when I started reading ahead. Everything just happened so fast last night that I never got to ask if there was some way they had to check and see if we were actually Confunded. That way they'd know what we were saying was true."

Harry had to give it to her, that would've been a good thing to do.

"I don't know if it would've helped," he said instead. "According to this book, if you do it several times with small Confunds– Confundeds– Confundedsus?" Harry said struggling with what the plural of it would be.

"Confunduses," Hermione supplied.

"–Right," he said quickly. "Well, if you do it right, this book says that practically no one would be able to tell at all. And they never said if there was a counter to it or not – at least not yet," Harry added since he had gotten no where near through the entire thing, even as small as it was.

"That would make things difficult," she agreed as she moved closer to examine the book herself that made the girly floral scent seem stronger to him. Had she taken a shower, he wondered? When he thought of it though he could almost remember smelling it last night when she'd been latched onto him as they were riding Buckbeak up to save Sirius.

"Oh, this is well-written," Hermione said after a moment, quickly flipping back to the beginning to scan the first pages herself. "I can see why you were reading it; it's much better than the one I'd found. Where'd you get it?" she asked.

"Cedric Diggory found it for me," Harry admitted. "He said all the best books were the ones not in easy reach, and this was on the bottom of the shelf."
Hermione scrunched her brow in thought at that.

"I hadn't noticed that before," she said to herself in a way that somehow reminded him that she was a girl. "All of the really informative books I've found had been those I'd had to work for–."

Harry tried hard not to imagine Hermione bending over or stretching up high to reach for something. His heart started pumping faster and it felt odd to be so close to her. Was it getting hot in here?

"–But I didn't think they did it on purpose," she said in a way that reminded him of his own lax studying, though in a way that was much less accusative than what Cedric did. In fact, it was almost funny.

Something tugged at the back of Harry's mind. Ron, in his most honest moments, had always called her 'brilliant, but scary' but when he really thought of it, Hermione was simply amazing. Not only was she super smart – which in itself had saved them several times – but she was an amazing friend.

True, she could get kind of naggy about schoolwork and did go to McGonagall when she thought his Firebolt could've been cursed, but that was just because she cared for them. She had faced basilisks, trolls, werewolves, and giant man-killing chess sets with him and never once even thought of backing out of it. And when he'd thought of it, she'd even gotten more lax about following the rules – she had broken several laws with him last night just to save the godfather that he had never known he had and barely bat an eye.

When it came to doing dangerous stuff, Hermione would do anything for him, and what could you call that other than amazing? And how much more amazing would she be if that was reinforced the way the book said that you could reinforce things? She'd be astounding. There wouldn't be anything that Hermione wouldn't be able to do and she wouldn't be afraid to do it if she needed to.

There was a weird squirmy feeling in his gut and a jittery feeling along his skin as he gave a few panicked thoughts about actually doing it. If she would benefit so much from it and never know it happened, how could he not do it? She could be Prefect, Head Girl, Minister of Magic, and leader of the entire wizarding world – eclipsing even Dumbledore – with just a little nudge so wouldn't the right thing to do be to do it?

Harry pulled out his wand as Hermione flipped another page. He was going to do it. For the good of his best friend, for the good of the world, he was going to give her that little nudge. He pointed the wand at her and tried to work some moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. He was going to do this.

"Confundo," he whispered, causing Hermione to stop what she was doing.

His whole body seemed to seize up and his insides turned to jelly. He'd fucked it up! There hadn't been any sort spell or light or anything, and now she'd know that he was trying to use it on her. How could he have been so stupid?

All that worry suddenly drained away though when she turned to him with a slightly confused look on her face, almost as if she'd forgotten what she was doing there.

"You would do anything for me," Harry said, feeling much more calm again as he pocketed his wand. "Wouldn't you, Hermione?"

Her confused look cleared in an instant.

"Of course, Harry," she said quietly and with a nervous little smile before she quickly moved to bury herself in the book as her cheeks turned a nice shade of pink

His stomach did a bit of a flip seeing that. Hermione was a girl but she had never acted that way before; not like a real girl. That didn't have anything to do with the spell, could it?

'No, it couldn't have,' he thought. 'I didn't mean it that way. Hermione knew that.'

Harry looked at her again to see that while her head was determinedly angled down at the book, she wasn't reading. Far too often her eyes were darting over to him and her blush wasn't going away. Did–Did this mean that she fancied him? And what did that mean when she said that she'd do anything for him? The images of Hermione bending over to reach the bottom shelf and particularly the one of her stretching out to reach a high shelf popped into his mind again. He just had to know.

"Hermione," he said as he turned and inched closer to her, putting an arm on the back of her chair. "You'd do anything for me, right?" Harry asked again, feeling hotter than before.

"You know I would, Harry," she replied as her blush deepened a bit, her hands still on the table as if her whole body had been frozen.

"Would you–," he started, now very much aware that they were in a very public place and that anyone could come up to them at any moment. "Would you show me your breasts?" he asked, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think of them.

Hermione turned to look at him then, her shyness making it all the more thrilling.

"I'd do anything for you," she said.

"Show me," he breathed, unable to believe that something like this could even happen.

Hermione looked around quickly. Although they were off on their own and had a bit of privacy, she had to be thinking about how anyone could discover them. She'd refuse to show him if there was even a chance of someone walking up to see her tits hanging out, wouldn't she?

Instead of refusing though she quickly undid the clasp to her robe and pulled out the bottom of her shirt from her skirt. Unable to think of anything else, Harry thought for a moment that she was going to take off the shirt too, but all she did was unbutton some of the lower buttons. Then, with another glance around to make sure, Hermione lifted the bottom of her shirt and sweater vest up, and even used her thumbs to lift her bra out of the way as well.

He hadn't even thought about her wearing a bra before, or how odd it'd look with her clothes bunched up around her neck, and he certainly wasn't thinking about it now either. All he could do was marvel at her breasts. She was actually showing him! He couldn't believe it.

"D–Do you like them?" Hermione asked quietly, looking at him right in the eye.

"They're amazing," he said honestly, his eyes leaving hers to return to what was on display.

Harry didn't know how big her breasts were but amazing certainly covered them, especially the center nipple part that was becoming more crinkled by the second. Her breasts moved and slightly swayed with every breath she took, and the breaths she was taking were becoming deep. It made her breasts hypnotic. He wondered what it'd be like to touch them, but maybe that would be too much. No matter what, Harry didn't want to take advantage of her. She may have been willing to do anything for him before but surely before that spell that 'anything' had had a limit. That meant it was up to him to know where to draw the line.

"Do you mind doing this?" he asked, wanting to know how she felt about it.

"Of course not," Hermione said in a breathy voice as her breasts continued to shift. "Not really," she amended as she kept an eye out for intruders. "I never thought you'd ask, to be honest – and certainly not in the library," she said incredulously.

Harry drew his eyes away from her marvelous breasts to look her in the eye again. While she may have never thought of showing him her breasts before there was something in her eyes that said that she was enjoying it. It might've been the naughtiness of it or the fact that it was in the library – and he certainly liked both of those as well – but it seemed as if what she really thought was that she'd never even considered that he could be so daring.

If it hadn't been for the spell though Harry didn't know if she would've participated at all, and that made him feel that she should stop.

"That's enough, Hermione, thanks," he said finally, his eyes darting down to get one last look at her breasts before she hid them away again.

She smiled as she dropped her shirt. What he hadn't been expecting though was how... exciting it was to see her adjust her breasts to fit into her bra properly again though. Without a thought he'd thanked her again for it, which brought another small pleased smile even if she did roll her eyes while doing it.

This had been too good not to do it again later – and she did seem to enjoy it – so that wouldn't be wrong, right? The change that the Confundus spell had done was just a small one, so there still had to be a limit to what Hermione would do because of it, right? She was still the same Hermione, wasn't she?

'She's just... a little more daring,' Harry thought, and that certainly wasn't a bad thing. 'She hadn't just blindly obeyed,' he reminded himself as she refastened her cloak and stood to tuck in her shirt – though that did distract him for a moment when he noticed how thin and attractive her figure was too. 'She had been watching for people spying on us, so surely she would've stopped if she'd so much as seen a blur of movement, right?'

"Come on," Hermione said when she was done. "Ron's got to be through eating by now but we should still find him and let him know you're okay. Besides, I'm sure you need to eat too, all you ate last night was chocolate," she said in a very Hermione-like way that dispelled all his doubts.

He stood and followed her out of the library, the book that'd made it all possible left forgotten on the table.

Out in the hall Harry couldn't help but feel that things had changed between them. He felt connected to Hermione in a way they hadn't been before. He didn't know how to explain it but she must've been feeling it too for as they walked she moved over and bumped his arm with her shoulder, drawing his attention.

He smiled at her – and couldn't help but feel his cheeks getting a bit red – while she smiled and adopted a proud and unashamed look in return. That was definitely good, Harry decided. He didn't know exactly what was going on or what it meant, but it was definitely good and a change for the better.

There had to be a way to get more of that feeling. And when he thought of it, why should he stop changing things for the best when it brought out the best in people? It was just a little persuasion when you really thought of it. Sirius hadn't Confunded them last night but if Harry had known then what he knew now then perhaps he could've convinced the Minister of the truth.

There had to be a way that everything could be alright. He wasn't going to force anyone to do something wrong, but that didn't mean that he was going to stop them from doing something right if he could help it, even if it took a bit of persuasion to get them there.

Harry returned the bump that Hermione had given him and they went on to find Ron.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Ron met them before they ever got to the great hall. He had finished eating and met them on the stairs with a stack of toast. And even though Hermione said that it wasn’t a proper breakfast she went with them so that he could eat it out by the lake while virtually the entire castle went off for another Hogsmeade weekend. Neither of them had cared to go and, proper breakfast or not, Hermione even had some of the toast herself.

It was hard not to think about Sirius as they sat there. For maybe half an hour he’d thought that he’d have a place to stay away from the Dursleys, but all of that had been taken away by the Dementors. Now here they were again, hours later in the bright sunshine and there wasn’t a sign of Dementors to be seen. Good to his word the Minister must’ve taken them with him when he’d left, so that was one less thing to worry about at least.

Even with that old worry gone it still left him with a new concern to worry about. He had Confunded Hermione to be a bit more daring – or rather he’d Confunded her to be more willing to do anything for him with that more daring bit being what he’d had in mind – but it turned out that she took that ‘anything’ as a good bit more than just a bit of daring. She had bared her breasts to him just because he’d asked.

She didn’t mind of course – if anything she’d seemed to enjoy it – but that didn’t mean that she would’ve done it otherwise. And while her breasts were great – fantastic even – and they were something he was eager to see again, Harry couldn’t help feeling that he was taking advantage of her. Surely there was a limit to what she’d do. Her agreeing to do anything for him didn’t really mean ‘anything,’ right? He had to find a way to make sure that was still the case.

She was sitting closer to him than he thought she normally would, which made him feel good in a minorly jittery sort of way. She even bumped his shoulder from time to time as if to remind him that her breasts were still there if he wanted to see them again. That made him glance over at Ron as he sat there and enjoyed the day – and that gave him an idea.

If he had really messed up, if he couldn’t trust himself to ask anything of Hermione without there being a possibility that she’d refuse, then telling her to bare her breasts again in public – where someone she knows would definitely see her – would be a way to test it. Surely she wouldn’t do that in front of Ron, right? He could no doubt make her do it by Confunding her again but he wasn’t going to do that to her.

‘Right,’ Harry grudgingly thought. ‘I’m a real gentleman,’ he berated himself. ‘I’m not going to make her act like some floozy, I’m just going to ask her to expose herself to me and see what happens when her other best friend looks on – that’s completely different.

He felt like a tosser but he couldn’t think of anything else he could do; he didn’t know how to undo it and it wasn’t like he could Confund her back the way she was. If he did that and told her that she wouldn’t do anything for him when she already believed that she would then she’d eventually start acting crazy like the book said and end up in a mental ward somewhere. Plus, without her giving them any help, how were he and Ron ever going to survive all the stuff that happens around them?

Ron was gazing out over the lake with a look like he was starting to get bored when Hermione bumped his arm again. Harry looked over at her and caught a gleam in her eye as she smiled a tight little grin that told him that told him she was still reliving what had happened in the library and he knew that he might as well get on with it. He flattened his hair and glanced at Ron again before clearing his throat.

“Hermione,” he said, turning towards her. She was now looking shy and biting her lip, perhaps afraid of what he’d say next – then again, that look could be excitement. “Can I see your breasts?”

Her face instantly went pink again right up to her hair and a blur of movement brought Ron’s head whipping around so fast it was surprising it didn’t snap off. His best mate didn’t look like he knew what to say, and Harry didn’t know what to say to him. Just like he feared though, Hermione knew exactly what to say.

“Of course, Harry.”

Ron looked at her dumbfounded for a moment before he saw his eyes drop to her chest; then his ears became decidedly pink.

“Stop that!” Hermione said crossly and now it was his turn to snap his head around to look at her. She closed her robe around her and crossed her arms in front to better hide her chest. “Ron, turn away.”

“W-what?” the ginger boy asked, no longer dumbstruck; Harry though couldn’t have been happier. Hermione could say no! She could decide things for herself still after all.

“You heard me, turn away,” she said with a shooing gesture.

“You’re gonna–,” Ron sputtered in response, now looking cross himself. “You’re gonna show him but you’re not going to show me?”

“Yes, Ron,” she said heatedly. “Now turn away.”

“Why?!” Ron said angrily in a way that threatened to turn this into a full-blown row.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Ron,” Hermione said with a rising voice herself. “You are not entitled to my body!” she whispered in a vicious hiss.

“But Harry is?” demanded Ron, his ears now solidly pink.

“Of course he is,” Hermione replied. “He’s the most important and most special person in the world.”

Harry had to put a stop to this right now. They’d already had a row this year that had lasted months, and Ron was jealous enough about ordinary things like scars and racing brooms, throw breasts into it and there’s no way he’d forgive him for not sharing – and they weren’t even his breasts to share in the first place!

What popped into his mind next made him want to scrub his mind out with soap.

Ron opened his mouth to no doubt say something particularly nasty as Harry scrambled for his wand.

“Confundo!” Hermione said, jabbing her wand at their friend; Ron wasn’t the only looking at her confusedly then.

“The three of us are friends, Ron,” she said assertively, causing the other boy’s confusion and the pink in his ears to die away instantly.

“Well – yeah,” their ginger best friend said in reply, as if wondering what that had to do with anything.

She Confunded him again.

“Friends shouldn’t fight with each other.”

Ron’s confusion cleared again and he nodded.

Hermione Confunded him again.

“Friends don’t get jealous of each other.”

This time when the confusion cleared Ron looked embarrassed.

She Confunded him yet again, which Harry thought was way too much, no matter what she had to say.

“Harry and I are–,” Hermione’s eyes darted to him quickly, “–something more than friends,”

The pink returned to Ron’s ears returned with a vengeance and she Confunded him a fifth time. Harry decided not to say anything; they may be ‘something more than friends’ but she was still her own woman. It had nothing to do with the thought that she might do the same to him, not at in the least.

“When people are something more than friends you should take it as normal that they will do things together of a physical nature that doesn’t involve you.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Ron said with a frown when he came back to himself again. “You don’t have to tell me. I was just going to say to that I’m going to go flying,” he defensively lied in the way that only Ron could.

‘Then again,’ Harry thought. ‘With all that Confunding, he might think that’s actually what happened.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at him, as if it were his fault that she was friends with him.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Ron said with a huff when he got to his feet. “Harry do you mind–,” he added quickly but Harry was already knew what he was going to ask.

“–Help yourself, Ron,” he interjected, which sent the other boy off like a shot to collect the Firebolt from their room.

A scary thought occurred to him and he turned to Hermione.

“Should he be flying after so many Confundus Charms?”

She peaked around him to see Ron race away.

“He hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet so I think it’s safe to say that nothing I did affected him in that way,” Hermione replied stiffly, as if she wouldn’t mind if the boy had fallen on his face, obviously still ruffled from the altercation. “And before you say anything, I know that I shouldn’t have done it,” she added before he had a chance to bring it up. “I’ve had it with his irrational jealousy and anger though; that’s not the way a friend is supposed to treat his friends.”

“I completely agree,” Harry agreed agreeably, still noting how tightly she held her wand. There might be something to that scary description of her after all.

“Besides, just because I’m willing to do – some things – with you doesn’t mean that I’m a piece of meat to be passed around,” she fumed. “I determine who I’m going to do things with, not him.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he rightfully replied. “But just to clarify,” he continued hesitantly, “does that mean you’re–”

Harry cut off as a shadow fell across them causing them to look up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at them.

“Know I shouldn’ feel happy, after wha’ happened las’ night,” the large hairy man said. “I mean, Black escapin’ again, an’ everythin’ – but guess what?”

“What?” they asked, pretending to look curious and anything but caught out.

“Beaky! He escaped! He’s free! Bin celebratin’ all night!” he beamed.

“That’s wonderful!” said Hermione as she finally put away her wand.

“Yeah... can’t’ve tied him up properly,” said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. “I was worried this mornin’, mind... thought he mighta met Perfessor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin said he never ate anythin’ las’ night...”

“What?” Harry asked quickly.

“Blimey, haven’ yeh heard?” said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. “Er – Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin’... Thought everyone’d know by now... Professor Lupin’s a wereworlf, see. An’ he was loose on the grounds las’ night... He’s packin’ now, o’ course.”

“He’s packing?” an alarmed Harry said as he stood. “Why?”

“Leavin’, isn’ he?” Hagrid replied, looking surprised that he’d had to ask. “Resigned firs’ thing this mornin’. Says he can’t risk it happenin’ again.”

Harry ran off to find him straight away, Hermione calling to him to wait up when he hit the stairs. He waited for her to catch up but that didn’t stop him from continuing.

“Where are you going?” she asked as she ran along beside him.

“I’m going to talk sense into him,” he replied.

“But if he’s already resigned – that doesn’t sound like there’s anything we can do,” Hermione countered.

“You can still say that after Confunding Ron?” Harry asked as he came to a stop.

“But Harry, he’s a teacher,” she said scandalized.

“So is Snape but we all still attacked him last night, remember?” he pointed out. “It’s not right that he should feel like he has to leave just for one mistake. We’re not going to fail him like we did Sirius. He’s the best Defense professor we’ve ever had.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Hermione said grimly with a sudden change of mind. “You just distract him and leave it to me.”

Hermione was getting really good at brainwashing people; she was so good that it didn’t take any time at all to convince Professor Lupin to stay. He already liked teaching and actually didn’t want to leave in truth, so all it really took was her showing him how he shouldn’t be punishing himself for trying to save their lives and how attitudes towards werewolves would never change if he’d allowed himself to be bullied into leaving. Strangely enough, after that the man had spent more time trying to convince them that Dumbledore wouldn’t hesitate in accepting his change of mind then they had convincing him to stay.

“No, I think the biggest obstacle will be Severus,” Lupin told them. “After losing the Order of Merlin last night, when he hears this he may just up and quit.”

That prospect didn’t upset Harry in the slightest, if anything it made him wonder if they could Confund the greasy git into going through with it. Probably not though; after last night they probably wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near him. Something of it must’ve shown on his face though.

“You may not miss him,” Lupin said with a smile, “but without the wolfsbane potion... I’m not so easy to control on my bad nights. Mister Filch does still keep those chains in his office, I suppose, if the worst should happen but–”

There was a knock on the door and Harry stuffed the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak that Lupin had returned to him hastily into his pocket. It was Professor Dumbledore, and he didn’t look surprised to see either of them there.

“Your carriage is at the gates, Remus,” the man said. “Unless, of course, you’d care to change your mind.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Lupin replied before glancing to them. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I might stay after all.”

“Really?” Professor Dumbledore asked before continuing. “I feel so much better then about misplacing your resignation. It was going to be uncomfortable asking you to write it out again,” he said with a smile. “Might I ask though what changed your mind?”

“Just a visit from my two favorite students,” he said, gesturing to them.

“Favorites certainly have a way of working a curious kind of magic on you when you least expect it, don’t they?” the Headmaster said as Harry’s stomach dropped and Hermione looked much the same. When he looked over at Dumbledore again though his eyes were full of twinkling mirth as he looked at them over his half-moon spectacles.

“Since we have our Defense professor back,” Dumbledore said to them when he continued. “I wonder if I may have a word with him alone concerning next year.”

He and Hermione wasted no time in leaving and Harry had no idea what he said as he mumbled his goodbyes. If he had thought they’d pushed their luck before that was nothing compared to this. Once they were a full two floors down and half the school away he slumped against the wall as Hermione leaned over a stitch in her side.

“Thought... we’d be... expelled,” she panted.

Harry just nodded and wondered if they weren’t going to be expelled anyway. It sure sounded like Professor Dumbledore knew what they did but it had also looked like he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Then again, he had to know more than they did about what the Confundus Charm could do and might have reversed the spell already.

“We’ve got to be much more careful about that – and that’s if we ever do that again,” he said.

“I can’t believe we even did it in the first place,” Hermione said, resting her forehead against the cool stone wall and closing her eyes. “Changing someone’s mind like that is bad enough, but doing it when they’ve already taken a public stand like that is madness!”

“And yet you did it,” he said with a smile of pride she didn’t see.

“I’d do anything for you, Harry.”

That gave him a squirmy feeling he both liked and didn’t. He had made sure of that she’d be willing to help with all the mad stuff he got into but it was what she might do to him that was scary. Thinking that he had to take care of this fear once and for all, Harry drew his wand, pointed it at her and whispered the incantation under his breath.

“You won’t ever try to change me the way you did Ron,” he said.

He had just hid his wand again just in time.

“Before I forget,” Hermione said, standing straight again and turning to look at him. “Some people think that a girl will want to change them, but I think that you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Harry might have put the thought in her head but it sounded really sweet when she said it like that. He even got a bit embarrassed because it was so similar to what she’d said to him years ago.

“I’m still not as good as you,” he replied with a shrug.

“Well, maybe you would be if you spent more time in the library and kept abreast of things,” she said back with something near her normal bossy tone. “You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t take a more hands-on approach in what you’re interested in.”

That got his attention.

It could’ve been the fact that she mentioned the library, or the fact that it was getting hard for him to think of anything other than her breasts, but Harry didn’t think she was talking about studying. She had said that he was “entitled to her body” earlier but he’d thought just that that was the Confundus talking. He’d never thought of her in this way before today – much less thought what she’d be like when it came to doing things with a guy she fancied – but if this was what she was really like under the bookish exterior then he supposed that he was worrying too much about what she would and wouldn’t want to do with him.

The whole thing did give him a brainwave though.

He pitched his voice low and stepped close to her to ask, “Hermione, are you trying to tell me that you want me to molest you?”

Her shocked and affronted face was at odds with how deeply she started breathing and the blush that broke out on her cheeks.

“Harry, I’m not some kind of slut,” she whispered back to him.

“I know you’re not,” he countered. “You’re a strong and independent woman who decides for herself what she will and won’t do with her body.”

Even with that though Harry could see a struggle taking place inside her, it looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. For some reason it made him feel great, powerful even. He liked the thought that she was seconds from being unable to keep her hands off him.

“Come with me,” he said with a smile as he took her hand and led her away before she could respond. Doing it in the library was one thing but for this they’d need privacy that a hallway couldn’t supply.

The abandoned classroom they found had plenty of light coming in through the windows and a mountain of desks stacked along the wall. It should be easy enough to hide on the far side of the desks and never be seen.

“Harry, what are we doing here?” Hermione whispered as if afraid to get caught even when she didn’t have her breasts bare.

“I have something I want you to do for me,” he told her, seeing the nervousness and uncertainty quickly return to Hermione’s face, followed quickly by determination as they approached the far corner.

He looked back to the door and made sure they were positioned in a spot that wasn’t visible from it. That way even if someone heard anything and came to investigate they wouldn’t be seen right away and hopefully wouldn’t able to sneak up on them before they knew they were there. Out of a sense of precaution though he withdrew the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and put it on a nearby desk in case they had to hide.

“I need you to stand right there for me,” he said with a smile. Hermione looked puzzled when he continued. “Of course you’re free to say stop whenever you want but try to keep still and quiet for as long as you feel comfortable. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” she said resolutely as if not quite sure where this was going.

Now that the time had come he felt a tingly feeling in his hands again. It made him clumsy when he tried to undo the clasp that held the top of her robe together, but he still did it on the first try. The whole time he stood close to her, unfastened it, and took the robe from her Hermione was looking directly in his eyes as if pushing him to go further, so he tossed it to another desk and went to work on the next piece of clothing.

The sweater vest really only served to diminish how big her breasts looked when it was on and while it had posed no problem to her earlier that day in the library, him taking it off her now was another matter. Hermione had to fight a grin as he struggled to get it to go up without bunching both it and the button-up underneath it up in the process, to say nothing of getting it over her breasts and head. At least she’d been helpful in raising her arms without making a fuss though.

Harry tried to flatten her hair back down as much as he could but it was still full of static afterwards. It did not make for the teasing and seductive feel that he had wanted this to have. He placed his hands on her waist and smiled along with her once he put the sweater aside and gradually he saw the humor fade and the tension of the moment return to her eyes.

He toyed for a moment with the warm, smooth skin around the top of her skirt, just under the button-up top. She fidgeted slightly as he unbuttoned the bottom button and he noticed her breathing deepen as he worked his way up, a bit more of her flat stomach becoming noticeable with each one undone. When he was done her shirt threatened to fall open on its own but the Gryffindor tie he’d left on her prevented it.

His hands moved lightly along her body as they ran along the tie but rather than make a move to remove it they darted through the gap in her clothes and roughly grabbed her breasts and bra, causing her to gasp like she couldn’t breathe. Her breasts felt better than he’d imagined and Hermione’s lips looked very red as she wet them and looked up at him, finally bringing herself to speak.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” she breathed.

“I didn’t ask,” he returned in the same breathy voice as he kneaded her breasts through her bra.

Before he knew it Harry was being thoroughly kissed and the force of it pushed him backwards. The move pushed his hands away from her breasts and around to the warmth of her back, finally opening her shirt wide. He didn’t get an instant to think about looking at her though for at that moment the backs of his legs hit something and he sat down hard on a desk chair that he didn’t even know was there.

Once her lips were off his, Hermione paused only a moment to remove her tie and shed her shirt before immediately coming over to straddle his lap and start kissing him again. Her skin was so warm it made his hands seem freezing by comparison, which contrasted them even more when her tongue invaded his mouth and made the snogging session an increasingly wet one. It wasn’t bad – not by any means – and he returned the favor.

Perhaps the best thing though was the way she moved against him and twisted her upper body so that her breast found his hand again. She moaned against his lips when that happened so he kneaded her breast like she seemed to want, not that he was complaining. Her bra was silky smooth and while her slight movements back and forth was quickly sending his region down below to a happy place, Harry really wanted to get her breasts to fly free.

He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and along the crook of her neck before doing what he could to get her wild hair away from that side so that he could see what he was doing. He knew there’s supposed to be some clasp or something in the back but knowing it’s there and using it was another thing entirely. The whole thing felt of one piece and after five seconds he was ready just to rip the damn thing off her.

‘What fucking madman designed these things?!’ Harry fumed in his head, wanting to find and pummel the idiot that was keeping him from them.

Her hands left his neck and chest and moved to a spot between her breasts. Suddenly the cups of the bra sprang apart and the breasts were loose! With a thrill of victory he eagerly pulled the thing the rest of the way off her and tossed it aside before bending down to take her nipple into his mouth as he held her tightly.

“Ah!” Hermione breathed, leaning back a bit to grant him access as she held his head against her breast.

She was moving about on his lap in a way that made him stand up and salute but rather than stop she seemed to be rubbing herself against it through his trousers. The continued movement made it difficult to kiss her constantly jiggling breasts so he had to switch to sucking on whatever part of it he could find as his lips tried to return to her nipple. To settle things down a bit, one his hands found her ass, cupping it to hold her body close to his down there while the other went to take control of the other bouncing breast.

Thankfully, this did nothing to stop her gyrations – they just made them feel better as she pressed harder against his raging rod. This change must’ve been good for her too for she started moaning softly and her nipples grew harder and more pointed with each passing second. Harry moved the hand from her ass so he could twitch her skirt up and slid that hand through the leg of her panties so he could grab the warm flesh of her rear while he kneaded and tweaked one nipple with the other hand and grazed her other one with his teeth.

That really got a reaction from her. Hermione moaned loudly and pulled his head back to her mouth so she could kiss him again as she ground her warm crotch hard into his. As nice as her ass felt he abandoned it to concentrate on her nipples since that was what she seemed to like. Hermione moaned against his lips as they kissed while he tweaked, flicked, rubbed and pulled her fleshy nubs, making her increase the pace of her grinding against him more and more.

Harry smiled as her moans became a nearly constant stream of mewling that was building higher and higher. Eager to see what happened when that building broke and crumbled, he pinched, twisted and pulled her nipples as hard as he could. Hermione seemed to seize and her head went back, her movements becoming twitchy and breaths coming in broken pants… eventually she slumped back down on top of him and rested her head on his shoulder, finally coming to a rest like she’d fallen asleep.

He ran his fingers up and down the silky smoothness of her back and that drew a shiver from her that seemed to recall her to life. She kissed his neck and nibbled his ear before kissing him again.

“That… wow,” she breathed as she put her forehead against his and closed her eyes, the ever-intelligent bookworm seemingly at a loss for words as she got her breathing back to normal.

“Have fun?” Harry asked with a smile as he massaged her back.

Hermione kissed him on the lips again with a contented moan. It was the only sound she seemed capable of making at the moment but he took it as a yes. What he didn’t expect was the high pitched mew when she was done.

Instantly the memory of her being partially transformed into a cat – complete with furry face and tail – popped into his head; was there something she wasn’t telling him? It was Hermione’s turn to whip her head around though, making him follow her gaze. He looked just in time to see the fluffy tail of Mrs. Norris disappear around the mountain of desks.

“Shit!” she hissed as she sprang off him to find her clothes. Hermione quickly flung her shirt on and tried to button it up as fast as possible as he went to where he’d left her vest and robe. “My bra?” she inquired in a whisper, sending him scrambling to find it.

“Anyone here, my sweet?” came Mr. Filch’s creepy call from the other side of the room, prompting Harry to push a collected wad of robes, vest, and bra into her arms before snatching the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it over them.

He started to lead her in a wide arc around the desks but instead she grabbed the sleeve of his robe and led him to the corner of the room that was as far away from the door as they could get. Filch and Mrs. Norris looked around and though the cat seemed to sniff around a time or two – and Harry swore she looked directly at them – they didn’t find them.

“Come on,” the caretaker said, calling his cat to follow him out.

When they were gone he pulled out the Marauder’s Map to make sure they were safe. Harry stood watch over it as she got redressed, though he did see the blasted bra get slipped into the pocket of her robes rather than put back on. Perhaps in a bid to avoid anything even remotely exciting – much less detention- or expulsion-worthy – Hermione suggested they grab a late lunch, followed by chess between him and Ron, while she studied ahead for next year.

And for once he had to agree with her. It was barely into the afternoon and they’d already had enough excitement to last them all week.

Chapter Text

Ever since that daring little adventure in the library yesterday – to say nothing of the writhing whirlwind of sex-charged snogging and groping just an hour or two after – Hermione simply couldn’t get Harry out of her head. It was like some switch had been flipped in her brain that was wired directly to her sexual organs that refused to shut off again. Even thinking of him while trying to relieve the feeling had only partially worked for in the back of her mind she knew if it were his hands doing it to her it would’ve felt better than anything she’d ever felt before.

His hands on her body yesterday had been like magic and just like with schoolwork she knew how this was going to work itself out. Sooner or later they were going to have sex, and then she’d completely be his – not that she hadn’t always been his. She’d just read in that book he’d found how powerful identifying and using one simple truth could be when Harry had spoken her inner truth out loud.

‘You would do anything for me. Wouldn’t you, Hermione?’ Harry’s voice whispered in her memory in a way that made her knees go weak, almost like she could still feel his breath on her neck.

She’d always been his friend – ever since he’d saved her from that troll on Halloween almost three years ago – but even then something within her had made her help him and follow him into mad and dangerous situations that she never would’ve considered going into before. And then there was how close he was sitting and what that said of his interest in her. She’d caught him looking a time or two – just like some of the other boys – but you could never be sure what that meant or if it meant anything at all and so she’d never thought it’d go anywhere because he’d never seemed genuinely interested until that moment.

In the context of the simple truth that he’d found and the question he’d asked she had had to quickly reevaluate things… and the result was honestly surprising. The surprising part wasn’t that she’d do anything for him because that’s all she’d ever done; what was surprising was the fact that she’d do anything for him – or particularly with him or to him – except to try to change him, of course, because he was perfect just the way he was. That realization though was actually a little scary, exciting, and intoxicating all at the same time.

She’d always respected her parents, her teachers, and the proper authorities but in that one moment she became intimately aware that Harry was her authority in a way that nothing else could compare and that her body was his domain… he just didn’t really know it yet. She’d never thought that she’d allow anyone to have that kind of power over her – the kind where they could simply crick a finger and she’d have no choice but to obey – and indeed everything about her screamed that she’d fight against a situation like that… but this was Harry who was doing it and something within her wanted him to crick that finger.

But as obvious as the endpoint was it wouldn’t do to run blindly into disastrous consequences that’d come from having sex too soon. Getting pregnant and upending everything wouldn’t be doing either of them any favors – especially not when it comes to their schooling or careers. Something like that would only cause huge problems for them and even trying to plan around them would only mitigate some of them, and then of course there’d be the societal issues and… well, the whole thing would be better off avoided, if possible.

But while precautions would have to be taken, it didn’t look as though Harry was in any particular hurry to get to that point. With a nice guy like Harry you’d think that he was just taking things slow but starting off by getting a girl topless wasn’t what you did when you were going slow. Him physically undressing her yesterday let her know that he knew exactly what kind of control he had over her but even winding her up to the point where she’d jumped on top of him hadn’t been enough to prompt him to press the advantage and go all the way, and at that moment she had really wanted him to – consequences be damned.

Perhaps it was how quickly it’d all come about that made him wait or the thought of the negative consequences of what they were doubtlessly going to do that held him back – and she was definitely going to have to do something about those – but the big thing that kept coming to her mind now was the fact that it was the end of term and they’d have months to wait before they could see each other again. Doing what they had and waiting that long would be bad enough but actually going all the way and having sex only to immediately have to turn around and not even see each other afterwards would be sheer torture!

Still, there were many other things she could do to advance things in the right direction short of going all the way and that was what she’d gotten up early to do. Standing as she was in the stairwell outside of the Third Years boys’ dorm though, now she was finding it difficult to go on with it.

‘You’re being ridiculous, Hermione. You’ve been in their room before, just go in there before someone sees you,’ she told herself as she tightened her pink bathrobe around her more snugly.

‘Yes, but that was when I was fully clothed, not when I was wearing only this and knickers,’ she answered herself. ‘What if the boys are already awake? All it takes is one and my studious reputation will be ruined forever.

‘And how long will that reputation survive if you stand out here until they wake up? Then they’ll definitely see you standing in the hallway wearing only your skivvies and a bathrobe.’ the voice of hers in her head that she had battled things out with said before bonking her with something else. ‘You’ve already been standing here so long that there’s bound to be older students up and in the common room now, so retreating back to our dorm isn’t going to happen–

Hermione suddenly felt very powerless realizing that and it didn’t have the same intoxicating feel it did when Harry asked her to do something she’d never do otherwise.

‘–That means that the only way out of this is to go in there and make out with Harry until everyone’s gone, then – once you’re finished – you can see about getting back out.

She was right, of course. Even arguing with herself she was always right. She could borrow one of Harry’s outer robes – or one of those one-piece school robes if he had one – to wear on top and then send him down ahead of her to make sure the coast was clear; and that’s if, of course, he didn’t trust her enough to use the Invisibility Cloak, which he most certainly would. Holding her breath and slowly turning the knob to avoid any hint of noise, Hermione entered the boys’ room.

The sunlight coming through the windows told her that she had been standing in the stairwell longer than she’d thought but even then thankfully the late-riser boys were all still asleep. She was amazed that any group could still be this unpacked on their last day to the extent that even if she hadn’t known which bed Harry’s was she’d still be able to easily find it. Neville’s frog, Trevor, was asleep in a shoe at the foot of one bed, Dean still had a picture of his mum on his bedside table, Seamus’s leg was sticking out from his bed curtains wearing pajamas that Harry never would, and Ron’s bed curtains were standing wide open – leaving Harry’s to be the only one in any sort of civilized state.

Tip-toeing over to Harry’s bed, she peeked in from one corner to see how he was laying. In the deep gloom she found him lying along the side closest to her with just enough room behind him for her to fit snugly. A plan forming in her head, she continued around to the other side the bed.

A grunting snore came from Ron’s bed that froze her in her tracks. Darting a look at her other friend showed that although he was smacking his lips as if he were inches from consciousness he was still content enough to continue drooling on his pillow. Heart beating a mile a minute, Hermione slowly opened Harry’s bed curtains.

The boy grunted and moaned at the intrusion of light in a way that was so cute that it made her want to make him make more of those sounds – only for a very different reason. Though she had ‘had fun’ during their make-out session yesterday Hermione didn’t know if Harry had ‘had fun’ in the same way at all but suspected not. What sort of ‘more than friend’ would she be if all the good things to come from it were so one-sided? That just wasn’t fair.

Harry turned over as she took his glasses from his bedside table; he was going to need to see for his next bit.

“Whoisit?” he blearily asked before concern for waking the others made her spring into action.

“Shh…” she told him as she bent down across the bed to kiss him to be quiet.

Harry moved back in surprise, as if he thought that anyone other than her could possibly be kissing him. Early morning or not, who did he expect it to be, Ron?

Hermione put his glasses on him and climbed the rest of the way onto the bed.

“Hermi–”

“Quiet,” she whispered to him as she turned to close the bed curtains again. They didn’t cut out all of the light; there was enough getting through the drapes and along the sides for them to see but it did bathe them in a light shadow. “Everyone else is asleep and I would prefer to keep it that way.”

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked quietly as Hermione smoothed out the sheets towards the head of the bed.

“I came to see you, of course,” she replied in the same silent whisper before lying down facing him. “The train leaves in hours,” Hermione explained as she adjusted her bathrobe. “That means that we don’t have a lot of time to spend together, so it only makes sense to put that time to good use.”

Harry looked at her in the same puzzled way he often did. Did he honestly think she had crawled into bed with him just to prod him into studying? She shifted around in an apparent move to get a little more comfortable and covertly pulled on one side of her bathrobe so that the upper part would come open a tad, exposing a bit of tabooed flesh that he’d already seen before.

Already seen or not though his look changed to same stupid one that Lavender had said that all boys get when confronted with girls and found themselves in a situation that they were nowhere near lucky enough to be in by half. Hermione had never thought she’d agree with a girl like Lavender but she began to wonder too if it ever crossed a boy’s mind that the reason they got so lucky with a girl had nothing to do with their luck at all. The other girl was right though – not that she’d ever tell her – some boys had to be pulled into their luck.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, looking at the slightly opened robe, almost as if he was afraid that mentioning out loud what she’d wanted him to think would somehow make everything she’d already planned for them crumble to the ground. Boys really were stupid sometimes but stupid or not her Harry had the courage of a lion and continued on. “Are-are you naked under that?” he asked.

Hermione put on her best scandalized look.

“Of course not, Harry, don’t be ridiculous,” she scowled, quickly untying the knot of her belt while his attention diverted back to her eyes. “As you can clearly see,” she said as she opened her bathrobe wide to show him what was there. “Obviously, I am wearing clothes.”

“You’re in your knickers,” he said dumbly, his face now very red.

“They are still clothes, aren’t they?” Hermione asked, letting the flap of her robe fall back behind her rather than covering up. She wished that she had more attractive and alluring underwear but the heat from Harry’s face told her that he knew that he was lucky to see them at all, so he wasn’t about to complain. Perhaps she could use that to achieve what she had in mind.

“They are clothes,” her stunned and gaping-mouthed ‘more than friend’ agreed when he had the brainpower to speak again; it took so long for him to do it though that she was sure all the blood he needed to get his brain to work had all rushed somewhere else.

“Do you think they’re too plain?” she asked quietly with all the mock seriousness of the fastidious bookworm she’d always been… when she wasn’t all but naked in a boy’s bed that is. She frowned and looked down to cup one hand around one bra-enclosed breast before moving on to finger the stretch of white fabric that was hugging her hip.

“Th-they’re fine,” her mop-headed ‘more than friend’ replied looking at her chest, before quickly changing it to “G-great,” when it dawned on him that ‘fine’ might not be flattering enough.

“Yes, I thought you’d like those,” Hermione said, hoping to brush aside her breasts for now. “What about my knickers though?” she asked as she played with the fabric in front in a way that drew his eye. “I’ve always gone with something workable but since you’re going to be seeing them from now on I thought I’d get your opinion,” she said in a way that he couldn’t help but get the point that she had no intention for this to be simply an end-of-term fling; he was stuck with her now because she wasn’t going back to how things were before.

“Those are… very nice,” Harry said in a way that got them no closer to doing what she wanted.

“Oh, honestly Harry,” she mildly chided as she took his hand. “You can barely even see them. Look closer,” Hermione instructed him, moving his hand to her panties as she moved closer to him.

The tips of his fingers were only an inch or so from where she wanted them – albeit on the wrong side of the underwear – but no matter how clueless a boy could be this had to be an unambiguous sign of what was supposed to happen next. She moved a little closer to his face as the same tingling sexual excitement from yesterday danced along her body from head to toe. Though Harry himself was still stunned at her audacity, the move made his fingers get even closer to their goal and she could feel the heat rise quickly there.

“So what do you think,” she breathed; her face now close to his. “They’re just plain cotton but do you like the feel?”

Harry’s face was a picture of stupefied lust that was cute enough to eat.

“I li–,” he tried to say only to be cut off with a quick kiss.

“It might be a mistake to say something definitive before you’ve fully explored,” she said meaningfully, “everything there is on the subject, wouldn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” he breathed before wrapping his other arm around her to hold her close while he kissed her. As great as that was though it couldn’t compare to the feeling of his fingers cupping her folds through her panties as if claiming them to be his.

‘FINALLY!’ Hermione cheered in her mind as she moaned against his lips, pushing her crotch ever more against his hand for him to feel.

Her tongue invaded his mouth as she felt the hand on her back start to drift downward until it grazed the clasp at the back of her bra. Forbidding him from even thinking of moving his other hand away from her pleasurable centers she tightened her legs around his fingers and started to push against them, hoping he’d get the idea.

Harry certainly got the idea alright and started to rub her pussy through her panties on his own but that didn’t mean the stubborn boy had given up on the bra for one moment. Instead, he clumsily tried to see if he could undo it one-handedly while she pretended not to notice. She may have had over three years of experience with that to the point where she could do it in her sleep but she didn’t know if letting him figure it out himself would divert him enough to keep things going longer or would divert him too much and keep him from concentrating on her.

Hermione temporarily put that issue on hold when she got fed up with Harry having so many sheets on him and wanting things to be more equal and angled herself up a bit to go for his neck and earlobe while she pulled the covers off him. The covers bunched up a bit between them but not so much as to make her plans impossible; hopefully they’d just keep things from going too far.

She was roughly dragged from this impromptu planning when his hand left the clasp of her bra, which was good, but the other one had also left her pussy – which was very very not good. She’d had no plans to get topless again today but, refusing to let this get diverted by such a stupid preoccupation, Hermione pulled back, sat up, shed her bathrobe and reached back behind her to take off her bra before letting that go too.

‘There,’ she thought primly. ‘Now we can continue.

Before she could do anything to get Harry’s hands back where they belonged – to say nothing of what she’d had planned for him – his arms were wrapped around her, pulling her down to render her thoroughly snogged. As much as she enjoyed the sensation of being on top of him with that hard bulge of his pressed against her, this was getting her no closer to her goal of having her hand wrapped around it and ensuring that he had fun.

The situation threatened to spiral even further out of control when Harry’s hands slid down her back and sides to slip beneath her panties and cup her ass. Her industrious friend also took the opportunity to use a leg to move the bunched up sheets more to the side, so there went that barrier from going too far as well. The instant he went from groping her ass to trying to covertly remove her panties though she had to divert things back to where they were supposed to be.

The gave him a pleasurable but declining moan to convey that while she did enjoy the experience and didn’t object to where it was going on principle, today that item didn’t appear to be on the menu. Afterwards she slipped off him back to her side of the bed, just so happening to remove one of his hands from her ass while pinning the other roughly where it was. Just because she had no intention of becoming completely naked today didn’t mean she had to deny him everything he wanted.

Before she could so much as open her mouth though his zeroed in on her breast like a rocket and practically began to nurse he was sucking so hard. The sensation sent electricity from her nipple straight to her vagina in the best possible way that made her want to remove her panties herself and let him have at it. Sometimes it really sucked having such a sensitive and easily targeted sexual trigger.

“Oh god, Harry,” Hermione silently moaned as she fought to rein herself in. “You’re far too overdressed,” she breathed as she brought his face back up to kiss him again.

She felt a nudge as he tried to move – probably to remove his shirt – and her body held his arm pinned where it was.

“Er – you’ve got me stuck,” the sweet dumb boy said as he played into her hands.

“I’m talking about this,” she replied as her hand found his crotch and rubbed his bulge through his pajama bottoms.

“Are you–?” he tried to ask but she silenced him with another kiss before darting her hand up under the bottom of his shirt and back down again, this time slipping under both his pajamas and underwear.

Her prize was a combination of warm and hard, soft and – strangely – gooey. Whatever natural lubrication it was that guys had must’ve already started working, not that she could say anything bad about that because the same could easily be said for her too. Hermione took it as a measure of success and interest and started doing what she’d come to do.

Though she didn’t have any experience in the practical reality of these sorts of things, she was acquainted with the technical aspects of how they were supposed to work. After all, how difficult could it really be to stimulate an erogenous organ whose anatomical purpose was to piston in and out of tight warm holes like hers? Shivering a bit at that bit of euphoria that’d no doubt come one day Hermione gripped his penis with a curved palm and started pumping it.

“What are you doing?” Harry whispered to ask as if it weren’t already completely clear.

He placed his hand on her hip in a nicely possessive way though and had changed the question he’d been intending to ask from the obvious ‘Are you sure?’ to this, but he hadn’t moved to take his dick out of her hand so it was clear that he wasn’t objecting. Harry was just letting his abundant humility and good manners get in the way again and present her with yet another opportunity to change her mind. Her mind was set though and she would not be deterred… that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a bit coy though.

“I told you, Harry, the train leaves soon,” she whispered in reply as she put more pressure on his penis. “You wouldn’t begrudge me the chance for some hands-on studying to get ready for next year, would you?”

Hermione didn’t know whether it was what she was doing or the promise of doing more of it in the future that did it but Harry’s dick seemed to swell at the thought either way.

“Absolutely not,” he breathed before kissing her once again.

She had to restrain herself from giggling as Harry’s fingers tickled her as they raced along her belly on their way back to her panties. She didn’t think laughing when he was finally going along with the plan was the right thing to do to get him to continue but it was a close run thing. Soon enough his hands were right where they were supposed to be, with one of them tenderly caressing her folds while the other kneaded her ass.

Hermione was in heaven as Harry kissed her neck while his fingers ran along the outside of her lower lips. At once she knew that if there was one thing he wouldn’t have to be schooled on when the time came for it it’d be foreplay. She didn’t know if he did it on purpose or if he was held back by the same lack of knowledge she had but the way he lightly skirted around her clit and just barely probed the entrance to her vagina was such a teasing thing to do that she couldn’t help but get even wetter because of it.

To kick things up a notch she tightened her grip on his penis and started pumping it harder. It did not get the reaction she wanted. The sharp, pained intake of breath made her stop immediately and his hand leaving her pussy again got her worried that this was doomed to failure. Was she doing it wrong? Was she hurting him? The last thing this was supposed to be was painful.

“You’re pulling skin,” Harry explained as his free hand moved to his own pajama bottoms.

Hermione thought he might pull her hand away and just call it quits but was pleasantly relieved when all he did was expose himself. It was a measure of just how far things had progressed between them that she felt happy about that because just twenty-four hours ago she would’ve been shocked and scandalized if the same had happened then and it might’ve ended their friendship.

As it was she couldn’t help but think it a bit strange how unstrange it was to look down and see it in her hand like that. That, of course, led her to wonder how his stacked up against others and whether it’d really fit inside her like it’s supposed to. The way it resembled an overlarge hotdog in the bun of her hand also gave her the sudden curiosity about what it tasted like – not that she’d ever do such a demeaning thing as to actually take it into her mouth, of course – it was just an… just an intellectual curiosity, nothing more.

“You’re gripping it too hard,” he quietly explained as his hand opened hers so that she was holding it more lightly. “You do it like this.”

Harry then moved her thumb to the other side of his penis and bent it around so that it joined up with her pointer finger to make a ring. That act in itself let her see what the flaw in her thinking was; it wasn’t stimulating the surface area that was important, it was replicating what might be the general experience of penetration that was the main thrust of a male’s masturbation. Looking at it that way she couldn’t help but think that boys got the raw end of the deal when it came to that since all they had amounted to fingering while girls also had clitoral stimulation – but then an idea came to her.

‘That’s unless boys have a biologically analogous region of the penis itself that provided the same stimulation!’ Hermione reasoned, what that area would be appearing readily in her mind. ‘But honestly,’ she thought as the mistake loomed larger again, ‘They really shouldn’t call it a tug job if you don’t do any actual tugging,’ she reprimanded the wider society that had given her the incorrect information.

“Then it’d be more like this,” she said softly as she brought the hand encircling his penis up all the way to the tip before bringing it back down again, paying special attention to the bulbous bell end to give it the most penetrative feel possible.

Harry was silent for a second, though whether out of continued shock that this was really happening or out of pleasure she couldn’t say.

“That’d – that’d be it,” he said once he could speak again.

Hermione smiled as she continued her ministrations and Harry kissed her again, his fingers brushing against her panties before he slipped them under her underwear to return to caressing her pussy. She liked the feeling of power it gave her to know that she could give him such pleasure and wondered how much more she could give before he reached his inevitable end.

Things could be even better still, she thought; since he was willing to instruct her on what he found pleasurable then it was only fitting for her to do the same. With that in mind, her other hand joined his – her fingers moving his where she wanted them to go.

“Don’t be afraid to go in depth–,” Hermione said as she maneuvered his middle finger to slip into her all the way to its second joint, “–with your studying, Harry. You’ll never learn to do the best stuff unless you do.”

She withdrew her hand from her already filled panties lest he take it as an excuse to try removing them again. Her mop-headed ‘more than friend’ didn’t appear to be thinking of it though nor appear to have a come-back for what she’d said but he took her point nonetheless. He withdrew his finger and ran it along her folds, like he had before, before inserting it inside her again. It wasn’t perfect to get her there completely but was pleasurable nonetheless, and something she’d be happy to engage in for hours on end – if only they had the time.

In an effort to inspire him to get more adventurous with her body Hermione began to speed up what she was doing to his. The way they were laying made it odd for her to do so and uncomfortable for her wrist so it necessitated her to add a little corkscrew motion towards his tip. Harry seemed to really like it though, his breathing becoming deeper and leading him to become more active with what he was doing as well.

She had just brought her free hand to her breast to tweak her nipple when she received a shock; Harry’s finger found her clit. The resulting mix of the two threatened to send her to the moon immediately and her hips reflexively pulled back. And while that brought her more into contact with the strong hold he had on her ass it was enough of a reprieve to keep her from getting off too soon.

Harry looked at her curiously though as she caught her breath; the poor boy must’ve had no idea what he’d done and probably thought she might want to stop.

“That was– a really – good spot,” she panted before leaning in to French kiss him again and get things restarted down below.

Harry didn’t seem to want her to move away again, the hand on her ass kept her close while on the whole he seemed more dedicated to exploring what she had than before. He must’ve been searching for what it was that caused her to jump though for the hand in front of her panties lingered more on the lips while he circled the one behind her lower down so he could send it between her legs and use it to probe her vagina. Eventually a finger was inside her from both in front as well as behind, which made her begin to rock her hips as her mind began to fog up with pleasure and moan against his lips as she tried to give to him the same pleasure he was giving to her.

Hermione spread her legs to give him better access as she tried to intensify what she was doing for him. She couldn’t tell if what she was doing down there was doing the job or not though for besides the same deeper breathing as before Harry gave no noticeable sign that it was working. Wrapped up in all this, and the world seeming to whirl all around her, she didn’t notice until it was too late that the persistent boy had gotten her panties below her knees until it was already too late.

There was a spike of fear and self-preservation that cleared her mind when Harry then leaned into her to turn her onto her back. She couldn’t let that happen though or she knew how it would end, and she couldn’t take that risk. In a mad bid to halt him in his tracks Hermione tightened her hold on his penis and held her ground so that he’d have to either choose to continue and get his dick mangled by his own movement or go back to where he was.

Thankfully, Harry went back to where he was and didn’t even seem to notice that he’d been cut off, let alone what ultimate goal it was that he had been seeming to pursue.

‘Good lord,’ she thought to herself as he began to snog her senseless again. ‘He can’t be this good at this and just be going on instinct, can he?’

The hand of his that was pinned behind her suddenly turned and went for the back of her head, taking control of it and angling it so that he could get to her neck while the other pushed two fingers inside her and began to pump in and out more quickly. Harry kissed his way down to her breast again as his thumb started flicking her folds below. Those delicious fingers of his curled to explore her inner wall and seemed to find something there that she hadn’t had a clue about while that thumb hit her clit like a hammer and he sucked on her nipple.

‘YES, HE’S THAT GOOD!’ Hermione wanted to yell as she shuddered in an orgasm that seemed to go on forever but at that moment her lungs were completely out of air for her to so much as moan, meaning she had to twitch in silent pleasurable agony.

Harry withdrew his fingers from her and looked at her with a knowing grin before finally looking ready to say something.

“Trevor!” Neville Longbottom exclaimed, bringing her crashing roughly back to earth.

How could she have completely forgotten about the four other boys that were in the same room?!

“What’d he do now?” Dean asked from somewhere on the other side of Harry’s bed curtains. “He piss on your robes again?”

“No, in my shoe,” the other boy complained.

“I swear he’s as bad as a dog,” Seamus commented, causing Hermione to wonder just how long they’ve been up. “You should get him a fish bowl to sleep in or something.”

“I wish my Gran would let me leave him at home but she always makes sure I have him,” Neville moaned piteously.

“You should feed him to Hermione’s cat then,” Seamus suggested before laughing at some unknown joke. “She’s got one vicious pussy that’d chew up anything, I reckon. Eh, Ron?”

‘Crookshanks didn’t eat–!’ she wanted to say, and may well would have if she hadn’t been naked and hiding. As it was though she quickly saw through what the boy thought passed for humor. ‘My pussy is very well satisfied at the moment, thank you very much,’ she said in her mind prissily. ‘But you needn’t worry about my vicious pussy; the only thing it’ll ever eat will be this,’ she thought as Harry’s dick rapidly deflated in her hand, ‘and it would never hurt Harry.

“Whassat?” a sleepy-sounding Ron asked from not far away.

'Shit!' Hermione thought as she quickly considered gathering up the covers to hide herself – or at least pulling up her panties, which were now around one ankle. The covers were all over the place now though and any sound or movement at all could draw the guys’ attention and expose them. In that case, not moving and staying exactly as they were might actually be the safer thing to do in order to get out of here.

“Hermione’s got an angry pussy, don’t cha think?”

“Nah, it just looks funny,” her ginger-headed friend said, seeming to miss how what he just said could be taken out of context and twisted into something horrible. “That was a misunderstanding anyway. You up, Harry?” he called afterwards.

“I–I’m up,” he said from within their vulnerable cocoon and giving her an unneeded quieting look. “I’ll be down in a bit,” Harry called in a bid to move them on their way. “Save me a seat, will you?”

“Yeah, alright,” Ron agreed before everyone on that side lapsed into the more muted rustling sounds of getting ready to leave.

Even if they didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger Hermione couldn’t shake the paranoid feeling that they’ve forgotten something. Harry seemed to have felt it too – or at least still felt the danger of exposure – for he put himself back in his pajamas, meaning that it was probably safe for her to move enough to retrieve hers. She had just sat up to reach her panties and put them to rights when a nagging feeling made her look around.

She couldn’t find her bra and only a tiny pink edge of her bathrobe could still be seen. They must’ve fallen off the side of the bed!

“Hey, Harry?” Ron asked from right next to them as the pink edge of the bathrobe suddenly disappeared, making her panic and try to cover herself as best as possible. “What’s–?”

The bed curtain was thrown open to show a confused Ron holding up her missing garments.

“Gah!” the wide-eyed ginger boy yelled, tossing the clothes in on top of her before shutting the curtain again.

“The hell was that?” Dean asked as Hermione scrambled to find the covers.

“It’s nothing. Nothing,” Ron protested.

“I think Ron got an eyeful of something he never wanted to see,” Seamus laughed as she hid beneath the mangled covers.

“What do you mean?” ever-innocent Neville asked.

“Finally figured out what that thing down there’s for – eh, Harry?” the infuriatingly perverted Irish boy laughed again.

“Come on, guys, let’s go,” Ron said sportingly as he began to corral the other boys out of the room. “No, Seamus. Go on, let’s give him some privacy.”

“But my shoe,” Neville objected amidst the general muttering and shuffling sounds that were moving away.

“Fix it downstairs or something. Go on.” After a moment their surprisingly helpful friend called back to them, “Alright, Harry, that’s everyone. You just – you come down later.”

With that the door closed and Hermione felt totally embarrassed. How was she ever supposed to look Ron in the eye again after that? All of her academic and moral authority was shattered now and all she’d be to him was ‘that naked bird in Harry’s bed.’

‘And what if he tells them what really happened?!’ she panicked.

“Okay, they’re really gone,” Harry’s voice said from outside of her secondary protective bubble.

“That was absolutely mortifying,” Hermione said as she poked her head back out from under the covers to see Harry peaking out of the curtains on his side.

“Could’ve been worse, I guess,” her mop-headed ‘more than friend but not quite lover’ offered by way of consolation.

“Ron saw me completely naked,” she reminded him as she sat up again to join him. “It doesn’t get much worse than that.”

“All my roommates think that I’m up here masturbating except him,” Harry countered, “and that I was doing it while they were still in the same room talking.”

“I’d still take that over our best friend seeing me naked. That was never a part of the plan and at least you were covered up.”

“Wait – you planned what was going to happen before you came up here?” he asked curiously.

“Not – not everything,” she said hedgingly, the huge flaw in her plan titled ‘getting out without being caught’ looming large in her mind again. “There were certain variables that I couldn’t account for.”

“Like being seen?” Harry asked, pulling the curtain next to him open all the way.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed in a scandalized whisper as she quickly drew the covers around her again. “Someone could come in at any time,” she scolded him. “Then we’d likely both be expelled.”

“And yet you still planned what you were going to do and came up here anyway,” Harry said with an odd look on his face. “Why?”

“To repay you for what you did yesterday, of course,” she said as if it were obvious.

“You showed me your breasts yesterday,” her ‘more than friend’ pointed out. “All I did was ask.”

“And you–,” Hermione stopped to glance over and make sure the door was still closed, “–made sure that I ‘had fun’ then, remember?”

“I seem to recall a certain wild-haired girl ‘having fun’ just fine on her own yesterday,” Harry said with a cute but cheeky smile. “It was the most I could do just to hold on and make sure you didn’t fall to the floor with the way you were bouncing about. Though I must say that I did enjoy the view,” he admitted, "you're a good kisser too."

As embarrassing as the compliment was, what he said had too much of a disturbing ring of truth for her to accept the implications of. She was not using Harry for her own sexual gratification. That was not the way proper sexual relations happened at all and she refused to have that said of her.

“And that’s why I came up here in the first place,” she said, though all that did was draw a confused look from him. “To pay you back and make sure that you ‘had fun’ like I did.”

“Who said I had to be paid back for that?” he asked.

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Hermione chided, thinking that even he couldn’t be that selfless. “There’s always reciprocity when it comes to something like this,” she explained – or at least tried to.

“What?”

“It means there’s a give and take,” she said with a little roll of the eyes.

“Right,” Harry nodded before grabbing her and flumping down to lay back on the bed again, pulling her along for the ride and causing her to shriek.

When they settled into a stable position again she was now on her back and being held down. Her attempts to find out what he was doing blocked by him kissing her and her attempts to keep a hold of the covers failing miserably since he’d somehow gotten one of her arms pinned behind him, like she’d had his earlier, and he held the other arm secure by holding her wrist with the hand whose arm had found its way back behind her neck.

Hermione didn’t know what exactly Harry had planned to do but she couldn’t imagine him forcing himself upon her, especially after what he’d just said about not needing to be repaid. In the unlikely event that happened though at least if he tried to get on top of her he’d have to free her pinned arm and she’d be in a better position to defend herself. She might’ve said that her pussy would never hurt him but her fists and knees were under no such restriction.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked when he momentarily detached from her lips as she firmly shut her legs.

“Just a little give and take,” Harry replied, his free hand going again to her breast. “I give you as much fun as I can and we’ll see how much you can take,” he said with the same cheeky smile that spelled her certain doom.

“That’s not–!”

‘–How it’s supposed to work!’ she had to finish in her head as he kissed her into silence again and immediately began his assault.

Harry forcefully pinched and twisted her nipple making her knees go weak as the accompanying pleasure raced through her once again. The clever boy used this moment of weakness to wedge her legs apart and pin them that way with his own before releasing her breast to send the hand down to attack her pussy. Fingers placed side-by-side he ruthlessly rubbed the upper part of her fold to make sure that there was no way he could miss stimulating her clit, making her feel an orgasm quickly begin to build.

In vain Hermione tried to overpower the boy that kept her restrained and struggle against the pleasure that was welling up inside her, demanding that she submit. This was not the way things were supposed to be! This wasn’t a fifty-fifty split by equals! Harry was dominating her and forcing this on her… and a primitive part of her enjoyed it.

‘I’m not some cave woman to be dragged back to the cave and fucked!’ she tried to tell herself as she tried to twitch herself away from his fingers to no effect while her breathing became labored and the orgasm threatened to break. ‘I can’t be enjoying this! This is not the way love-making is supposed to be!’

The pleasure broke and crashed, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body as Harry’s assault on her body began building another one up again.

‘This – can’t be – possible,’ Hermione thought as she moaned against his lips and thrust her tongue down his throat, perhaps struggling a little less against the bonds that held her.

He moved his lips from her mouth and she used the break to get as much air as possible so she could think enough to speak.

“Harry, this isn’t–”

What she was going to say disappeared entirely when the boy scraped his teeth on her erect nipple, biting it and sucking on it hard like he wanted to take it off. Her body convulsed as she started to cum again, the boy redoubling his frenzied jilling of her that somehow seemed to make a third orgasm build while she was still in the midst of her second. His middle finger stumbled directly onto her unhooded clit and mercilessly ground into it – that nascent third orgasm exploding to full bloom to overtake and merge with the second – and what might, in her pleasure-addled mind, be counted as a fourth – that caused her mouth to gape open in a vain attempt to get air.

“Harry – we can’t–,” Hermione breathlessly gasped as the boy’s fingers slid down her slit to enter into her again as his thumb continued the rubbing of her clit. “P-people could see.”

One – two – three fingers were inside her, pleasurably stretching her more than she’d ever been stretched before as they mercilessly sawed in and out. Harry returned to her lips to kiss her once again.

“And you’d let them watch, wouldn’t you?” he asked as another orgasm built. “You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?” Hermione teetered on the edge of bliss as her pussy spasmed around his fingers as his thumb kept flicking her clit. “You’d let Seamus, Dean, Ron, and even Neville watch as you writhed around in pleasure for me, wouldn’t you?”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move or get away – but she knew, Hermione knew that he was right.

“Yes, Harry! Yes!” she cried as her back arched, her orgasm broke and she came again.

Her mind blurred and face seemed to go numb. She was being shagged senseless and his dick wasn’t even inside her. She couldn’t understand it but she had to submit to him with the full entirety of her being; she had to. For some reason it was more important now than ever.

Her mind cleared ever so slightly when Harry somehow managed to fit a fourth finger inside her. Her legs were wide open now though still held in place by his own. She could feel his fingers going all the way inside her until they reached the beginning part of his knuckles.

‘Good God,’ she thought as he wiggled them around inside her as yet another orgasm built and built. ‘He could get his whole hand in there at this rate before he lets me go,’ she mentally moaned, though for some reason the want of release from all this was a distant and fading desire that had seemed to flee from her. ‘Why do I want this so?’

He took his fourth finger out of her again, if only so he could more rapidly thrust the remaining three repeatedly inside her as yet another orgasm approached.

“You’d writhe around like this in front of the whole of Gryffindor for me, wouldn’t you?” Harry asked as he kissed the side of her neck, making the slow progress back down to her breast.

She couldn’t help it but the image of him doing this to her in the common room to exploded in her mind. The little first years looked on in shock, others in confusion, the oldest boys with lust, and the girls were overcome with envy as she came again and again in front of them because of Harry Potter’s magical fingers. Hermione came again before she could ever answer, and again when she knew that some part of her would enjoy that fantasy becoming real – at least for that one single moment if it carried no repercussions with it.

Harry played with the tip of her nipple with his tongue and sucked it briefly; seeming to know what her answer was without her having to say it. She struggled to hold herself back from admitting what she was and waited in building pleasurable torture for what she knew would be next.

“You’d do this for me in front of the entire school, Hermione, admit it,” the boy who’d so expertly mastered her body commanded as she felt her last reserves slipping away.

“Yes, Harry,” she panted, her body aching for him to take it, to own it. “Please…,” she pleaded as she teetered on the edge of nothingness, not really knowing what it was she wanted him to do but desperately wanting him to do it.

‘Fuck me, cum inside me. Please, make me yours,’ Hermione wanted to whimper and beg but that last remaining scrap of who she was kept her from doing it. She was so close that it was almost enough to make her cry.

“Please…,” she asked again as he sucked on her breast again and she shuddered in pleasure. “Harry…”

“You’d do this for me in front of your own parents – in front of the whole world – and really let them know that you’re mine,” he said as he slipped from three fingers down to two and curled them back around to hit that mysterious spot inside her as he hit all her buttons once again.

“GOD, YES, HARRY!” Hermione cried out as she was wracked again and again by a monstrous cluster of orgasms. “I’m yours–,” shuddered breathlessly as he kept sending her to heaven over and over again. “I’m yours,” she acknowledged as stars exploded across her vision as the whole world and everything she was seemed to come undone and vanish.

An eternity and a half later some sort of something seemed to emerge from the nothingness. She could feel her breathing come in shuddering shallow breaths as she lay curled in a warm ball of her own tingling skin. She seemed to be able to feel everything around her, all the particles of air and every atom of her – all the way to the ends of her hair.

Another warm hand touched her and she had to twitch away from the pleasure of it – it was like she was one gigantic clit that simply couldn’t take any more. That involuntary movement seemed to deaden everything by grounding it in the real – whatever ‘real’ was anymore – so that the next time it touched her it didn’t overwhelm her to the point where she had to dive away for safety. A welcome and cloth-like presence settled in behind her bringing with it an arm that wrapped around her and a pair of lips that kissed her shoulder.

Hermione turned her head to see the face of her owner, her master, her god for all intents and purposes and couldn’t help but smile and feel loved.

“You have fun?” the mop-headed master of her body inquired as he returned her smile.

Fun did not begin to describe what she had felt. There were no words in any language on Earth to describe the kind of pure and unimaginable bliss that had exploded within her. She had to say something though so she went with–

“–Stars,” Hermione said, her voice still a little breathless as she wondered if she’d ever come down from the sexual high she felt. A desire to sink back into the nothingness by going to sleep seemed like a good idea but she tried to hold it off.

“You saw stars?” Harry asked as he kissed her shoulder again and held her and it was all she could do to nod and snuggle back into him, not even caring what knowing that would do to the size of the boy’s head.

They lay like that for a while until a soft knock came from the door before it opened a crack.

“Harry, you still in there?” a whispered voice asked from the cracked opening that Hermione thought was Ron’s. “It’s getting late; we need to pack.”

“Yeah, give us a second,” Harry replied before he started to get up.

Hermione had to quickly move to follow suit when she heard the door close and tried to get her brain back in its normal gear.

“Harry, can I borrow your invisibility cloak to get out of here?” she asked as bent to pick up her bathrobe from the floor.

“This from the girl who’d writhe naked in front of the whole world for me?” he asked from behind her prompting her to turn around in a huff.

“Harry, just because I’d do it doesn’t mean I’d want my reputation ruined because of it,” she scolded him in order to clarify her position – which happened to be a much more difficult thing to pull off while naked.

The boy held up his hands in surrender as he passed her her bra and panties.

“That was – just a joke,” Harry said in a way that instantly made her regret stepping all over his newfound confidence. After all, he couldn’t take her that way again if he lacked the confidence to do it.

Her underwear was soiled but they were better than nothing so she put them back on until she could change. A quick shower would definitely be needed too, though that might cause her to fall asleep standing up. Her legs were decidedly wobbly and her abdomen hurt from all the cumming she’d done – she couldn’t even remember how many times that was since she’d lost count.

If she hadn’t known that the only magic wand Harry had had was the one in his pants that’d barely factored into anything they’d done she would’ve sworn that he must’ve done magic on her. From everything she knew though that was impossible, so she had to conclude that having those massive repeating orgasms like that was a natural sexual event that she’d never been told about – and it was no wonder why. Who’d put off having sex when something like that was waiting for you?

As it was, even with the risk of childbirth it’d almost be a coin-flip decision to make. Luckily, as Harry had so successfully proven, a girl didn’t need actual penile penetration in order to reap all the benefits of sex. That didn’t make her feel any better though, in fact it only brought back the ‘she was using him’ concerns from earlier. If she could get – what, twenty? – orgasms from him in the time it took for him to have one – and it was one that he hasn’t even had yet – then there was no way that she’d ever be able to make this a fifty-fifty split like she’d so naively thought it’d be.

‘Well,’ she thought as she tightened up her bathrobe and Harry pulled the invisibility cloak out of his trunk. ‘I suppose there are privileges that come with being female after all.’ That realization though didn’t change the fact that she still wanted to get him to cum at least once before they went their separate ways for the summer, but how was she to do it?

Knocks on the door came again, more rapidly this time, so she took the cloak from him and threw it around herself. Before she pulled up the hood though she leaned in close, kissed him, and then went to whisper in his ear.

“One thing was true though Harry,” she said before nibbling on his ear and pulling back to give him a sultry look. “I do belong to you.”

The front of Harry’s pajama pants got quite a sizeable tent in it as she disappeared and a flurry of frenzied knocking came again before the door suddenly burst open. The four boys looked at their lone dorm mate curiously as they entered, though Ron looked abashed.

“Bloody hell,” their ginger friend said as he took in the almost sheetless remains of Harry’s bed, and to her shock it was only then that Hermione saw just how soaked the sheets that remained were.

“Have you been going at it all this time?” Dean asked, making his way to his own bed to pack up. “You completely missed breakfast.”

“Looks like he’s still at it,” Seamus said, pointing to Harry’s hard-on. When he looked at Harry’s bed though he exclaimed, “Bloody hell is right. You’d kill a guy like that, Harry.”

Ron looked over at the other boy curiously.

“You know – tossing off like that could kill him I mean,” he tried to correct himself but not before Ron could take a sliding step further away from him and doubts about the Irish boy’s sexuality bloomed in her mind.

“Right,” Ron agreed before he walked over to his bed too and giving Neville enough room to finally enter and do the same.

“What? Don’t look at me like that,” Seamus said defensively as he brooded towards his bed and the way was finally clear for her to make for the door.

The boys got to work throwing their things into their trunks as she slipped out and wound her way down the stairs to return to her dorm. Though she had failed in her ultimate mission her foray into sexuality was still a partial success. If she was still to get Harry to cum before the train arrived in London then desperate action would be called for, but at least the next time around she shouldn’t have to do so much convincing him to go along with it.

With that in mind Hermione started to plan what to do next.

Chapter Text

His two best friends had been acting really strange lately… Well, it wasn’t that strange but more kind of normal when you considered that they were more than friends, but it was kind of odd that they’d become more than friends in the first place. He’d never thought that Harry would’ve been interested in her.

True, they’d all been friends for years, ever since Harry had basically begged him to come along to save her from that troll that one time, really. But that would’ve just made it more likely for him to be the one to get her in the end wouldn’t it, since he was the one who’d saved her with that spell? It wasn’t like he was jealous though, he was quick to add in his head as he thought about it.

What was there to be jealous of, of him and Hermione? She might be a decent collection of individual body parts but it wasn’t like her personality was one that’d make him ever want to see those parts naked. He mentally waved off the thought as the image of her in Harry’s bed popped into his head again and he tried hard to ignore the two people across from him that were insistent on being cutesy with each other.

Ron buried himself in Quidditch Through the Ages as the train trudged on, though his eyes did pop up to glance at them from time to time. It really wasn’t odd for them to sit that close or for him to have his arm around her and almost on her ass – after all, they were more than friends. So it almost totally didn’t register at all when she put her hand in Harry’s lap and made him jump and then quickly cross his legs as if to hide the fact that they’re playing around again.

No, it wasn’t odd that his friends were doing any of that. It was kind of odd that they were doing it so suddenly though and weren’t really even talking about it or how it happened. It wasn’t like you could carry on like that without people noticing and wondering, they weren’t stupid – or at least he wasn’t.

‘Hang on,’ he thought. ‘Was it really that sudden or was it only now that I noticed because I caught them at it?’

Hermione had supposedly been taking a couple of different classes at the same time this year and disappearing at odd times only to reappear just a little bit later in ways that had never really been explained. She’d also gotten tired and out of sorts at random times only to show up later all disheveled or suddenly well rested… Had she and Harry been popping off to broom closets all year to snog and get naked and Harry was just better able to hide the fact?

Ron looked up at them just in time to see Hermione give Harry an odd look before standing and leaving the compartment without a word. His other friend followed her like a shot, almost running into Ginny in the hallway before remembering to turn back and give some excuse to leave.

“Be right back,” Harry said as if the two of them were only going down to the trolley lady.

“Yeah, alright,” he said dismissively, but not before his friend ran off to follow the girl who’d been in his bed just a couple of hours or so ago.

“That was a bit rude, wasn’t it?” Ginny asked as she came in and closed the compartment door and sat down. “The polite thing to do would be to ask if you wanted anything too.”

Ron shook his head and put down the book he’d been hiding in.

“She’s got nothing for me,” he said.

“Since when?” his sister asked. “There’s Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties – have you not got any money to pay her?”

He snorted at the thought.

“What?” Ginny asked curiously, still not getting it.

“They’re not going to the trolley lady,” Ron informed her. “They’re probably in the bathroom somewhere getting naked and snogging.”

His sister looked at him with a gaping mouth, as if shocked to realize what it was that more than friends did with each other when they were alone.

“N-naked?” she stuttered. “And snogging? You can’t be serious.”

With another little snort he thought of making a ‘No, Sirius is a big black dog’ joke but it wasn’t like she would’ve gotten it anyway.

“Yeah, they’ve been doing it for a while, I think,” he said instead as a bit of movement outside the window caught his attention and he leaned over to check it out. “I even caught them at it earlier today. She was in his bed completely starkers when I woke up.”

The movement turned out to be a tiny owl carrying a letter trying to make its way along in the train’s wake. It tumbled out of sight as he opened the window and when it next became visible he snatched it out of the air and brought it inside. The tiny owl started immediately buzzing around the compartment and it turned out the letter was for Harry.

With everything that’d happened there was really only one person that the letter could’ve been from: Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Ron glanced over at his sister but she seemed content to simply sit there looking sad for some reason and since Harry and Hermione were occupied elsewhere he opened the letter himself. Surely Harry would want to know whether his godfather had gotten away safely as soon as he came back in and wouldn’t be jealous of him reading it first; they’d all been on the adventure together and were friends after all.


She was on him almost as soon as he locked the door to the train car’s bathroom. Hermione kissed him deep, her hand finding his crotch again as she took him further from the door. Thinking that turnabout was fair play, Harry grabbed her breast and gave it a squeeze – only to be immediately pushed away.

“No,” she said as he fell back onto the toilet, banging his head against the wall and one wrist against the sink.

“Ow!” he groused as he sent his uninjured hand up to check his head. “What was that for?”

“You’re not allowed to do that right now,” Hermione said prissily before whipping out her wand and pointing it at him. “Brachium obfirmo!”

Whatever spell it was sent his hands flying back towards the nearest solid object – in this case the wall behind him and the sink to the side. He immediately tried to move them but couldn’t; they were stuck.

“Hermione, what is this? What’s going on?” Harry asked, not particularly liking being tied up for no reason and trying to square this with the girl who’d been covertly rubbing his dick through his slacks just to get him in here.

“It’s the Arm-Locker Curse,” she informed him as she put her wand aside on the sink, tantalizingly out of reach. “It’s a kind of cousin to the Leg-Locker but not used nearly so often,” Hermione lectured as she lifted her skirt a bit so that she could more easily straddle his legs and sit on his lap. “And I’d think that what this is would be fairly obvious,” she said with a scowl. “This is your punishment for what you did today.”

“Punishment?” he asked, the ridiculousness of that thought telling him that there was no way that Hermione could really be mad at him for what had happened between them. She’d been the one that went up there wearing only her knickers and had planned out what she’d wanted them to do – all he’d really done was ruin all of her plans and make them better.

“What should I be punished for?” he asked, trying to wiggle his nearest fingers to touch her leg and missing by several inches.

“Have you forgotten what you did?” Hermione asked, still in mock seriousness.

“I gave you so much fun that I made you see stars,” Harry smiled, not even pretending that he could say that without a feeling of pride. And just as nice as the ‘seeing stars’ was the curling up together afterwards was equally nice, in his mind anyway.

“You held me down and made me have so many orgasms that I blacked out,” she said as if that was supposed to make it somehow worse.

“And you’re complaining?”

“Of course I’m complaining,” Hermione continued to scowl, making him think that she might at least a little bit mad about it for some reason. “You knew that I wanted it to be split fifty-fifty but you did it to me anyway.”

“I didn’t need my fifty, and you had the time of your life,” Harry reminded her, struggling a bit against his invisible magical restraints and thinking that if he could get free he might just show her what punishment was really like.

“It doesn’t matter if I enjoyed it or not,” she informed him, “you still held me down and essentially assaulted me for your own sexual gratification.”

“Wait – for my sexual gratification? You were the one that had all the fun,” he reminded her.

“Not true,” Hermione said as primly as she could while straddling him. “I’m sure that you got a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing me writhe about and twitch like that–”

“–Not to mention how you begged me to do it or how you yelled that you belonged to me,” Harry interrupted her in order to remind her that she was in fact a very willing and eager participant in what had happened.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said as if she’d suddenly changed her mind. “We’re not going to mention that because it’s completely irrelevant. It does still underscore my point though,” she said stuffily. “Just because I belong to you doesn’t mean that you get to do that to me unless I want you to.”

“But you said yesterday that I’m entitled to your body,” he reminded her, if only because poking holes in what she was saying was the only holes of hers he was able to poke.

“And you are, but that doesn’t mean that you get to play with it however and whenever you want,” Hermione said, seeming to find some way in her head to make that seem like anything but a blatant contradiction.

‘I guess I should be happy,’ he thought as he tried to get comfortable on the toilet seat she’d trapped him on. ‘If she’s getting like this and wanting to punish me then at least I know that the Confundus didn’t turn her into a mindless sex slave that’d do whatever I want. As twisted as it is, I guess it’s better that she does it because she wants to, even if what she wants to do is imprison me.

Something about that didn’t make him think that this was any less of a set-up though.

“Well, I can see that the only way to get you to understand is to make you see how it feels to have it happen to you,” she said as her hand went to his crotch again.

She stopped, looked down at it, and then looked back at him.

“It was erect before,” Hermione she said as if he were intentionally making this difficult.

“Well, yeah,” he said exasperatedly. “But that was when I was kissing you with the prospect of touching you. You remember, back before you locked me up and scolded me for pleasuring you.”

“I was not scolding you,” she scolded him. “I was merely informing you of my opinion.”

Harry tried very hard not to say anything smart back to her because that would get him no closer to being free again.

“Well then,” he said cordially, “now that I understand your concerns will you let me up now?”

“Absolutely not,” Hermione repeated stubbornly. “If I do your hands will be all over me again and you’re not allowed to touch me at the moment; that’s your punishment. You’ve been a very bad boy,” she said in a way that started to get little Harry’s attention, “but if you decide to be a good boy and accept your punishment then perhaps you won’t have to spend the entire trip here in the bathroom.”

It was pretty clear now what she was intending to do and he had to admit that when she put it that way there was very little reason to keep fighting her on it. If there was one thing this year had proven it was that Hermione could be just as stubborn as Ron was and if he didn’t want to do something it’d take months before he was willing to change his mind. So while he wouldn’t mind skipping out on going back to the Dursleys, he didn’t want to stay chained to this toilet until the beginning of next term.

“Alright,” he said finally, trying not to let on that he saw what was in this for him, since that seemed to be what she was going for and he kind of did owe her for ruining her plans last time. “So how is this supposed to work?” he asked, wiggling his fingers at her vainly as if he were really trying to touch her.

“It’s quite simple, actually,” Hermione said with a rather cute smile as she leaned forward and brought her hands up to caress his sides and chest. “All you have to do is sit there while I’m the one that’s free to find every one of your buttons.”

“My buttons?” Harry asked curiously, wondering how the girl could not know where all of his buttons already were; they were in a row in front of her face and already neatly buttoned.

“Your sexual buttons,” she said as if he were stupid for never hearing of the term before. “You know, your turn-ons. Like the buttons you found on me and used this morning.”

“Oh,” he said as his brain quickly matched the idea to him going for her nipples and the other things she seemed to really like. “I don’t know if I have any of those.”

“Everyone must have them to some degree,” Hermione said as if even she wasn’t entirely sure about it. “If they didn’t there’d be far fewer people in the world as sex wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as you’ve shown that it can be.”

Her describing what they’ve done – and were about to do – as ‘sex’ certainly got a bit of stirring going on in the area of him she was sitting on. She noticed it and smiled, rubbing herself against it like she did in that dusty old school room a day ago, though that did send his zipper digging into his dick like it had that time.

“Well, it looks like part of you seems to enjoy the idea,” she said as she brought her lips closer to his… only to pull back at the last second and stop what she was doing. “Now, where – do – I – start?” she playfully asked as she walked her fingers up his chest towards his neck and looking at him like he was a very early Christmas present complete with pretty bow.

It was all Harry could do to sit back and not roll his eyes as he let her get into it and have her fun.

“You’ve kissed my neck a lot,” Hermione said her fingers danced along his neck, “so perhaps you’re sensitive there too?”

It felt a little odd for anyone to touch him there but it wasn’t like it was anything to get all twitchy about. He didn’t say anything since her playful inquisitiveness was rather cute and she seemed to take his lack of response as an encouragement to go further.

“Or maybe a more direct method is necessary,” she said teasingly as she leaned towards it.

Harry briefly considered quickly moving to intercept her lips with his own. In the end he didn’t because the odds were that it would’ve had him sitting there in the bathroom alone until they got to London. Hermione kissed his neck and even raked it with her teeth a bit with a little bite, but that didn’t really do anything for him like she seemed to want. It gave him an idea of what to try on her next time though.

“Or maybe this?” she whispered in his ear as she took his earlobe into her mouth to nibble and suck on it before pulling back to see how he responded.

Harry looked up at her with a patient smile while wondering when his upheld arm would fall asleep due to lack of blood flow.

“There’s got to be something,” Hermione said almost scoldingly as her hands went back to claw at his ribs through his shirt and started moving again on his lap. What she found seemed to annoy her even more – or perhaps make her desperate – because the next thing she did was dart her hands to his chest and pinch his nipples the same way she liked.

“This is so not fair!” she declared as if she’d been robbed. “Even he’s not working anymore,” she said, observing little Harry’s seeming disinterest and the way it’d gone back to sleep. “There’s got to be something,” Hermione said determinedly, folding her arms beneath her breasts in a way that nicely presented them to him.

With them pressed together like that Harry couldn’t help but imagine what they must look like under her clothes. Her breasts would be all pushed up and perky, with some very nice cleavage going on. They’d be right there in front of him, ready for him to dive into bite and suck on – and tweak if he could get his hands free, though he supposed that he could use his teeth for that.

“What the–,” Hermione asked, reflexively looking over her breasts to look down at the intrusion that had begun to poke into her from below again. Bright as she was, she quickly put two and two together. “Honestly, Harry,” she said as if he wasn’t being helpful. “You’ve got to have more that stimulates you than a pair of breasts.”

“I’ve got you,” he shrugged, hoping that it might finally earn his freedom so they could move on to more pleasant things.

“I can’t be your sexual button, Harry,” she said as if the very idea was impossible.

“Why not?” he asked with a smile and another shrug. “I like pushing your buttons.”

“I have no doubt that you do and have ample evidence to support it,” Hermione agreed with a thoughtful look. She must’ve figured something out because she suddenly smiled with an ‘I got you now’ kind of look.

“What is it?” he asked, wondering what that look meant.

“I just remembered something I heard about the largest erogenous zone,” she said as she stood up and touched him right in the middle of the forehead before moving back away from him. “It’s supposed to be for women – or so the theory goes – but I can see how it could be adapted to fit for men too,” she said slyly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, not knowing whether to be curious or insulted.

“I’ve always thought that boys’ preoccupation with a girl’s looks was rather crude and insulting,” she said by way of explanation that brought his eyes up to hers from her breasts. “After trying and failing everything readily at hand though I’m not so sure anymore,” she said curiously.

“Modern humans evolved from our most primitive ancestors to become a hunter-gatherer society,” Hermione said, looking him in the eye as she played with the top button of her blouse, thankfully having foregone with the unneeded vest since the term was over. “We then went on to found permanent settlements and become the people we are today,” she said as she unbuttoned the button.

“However,” she continued, his eyes following her hands down to the second button as more skin showed around her neck. “Since we’re a sexually dimorphic species – where men and women look very different,” she explained, “this history has left us with a differing set of attributes that had proven themselves useful in the past.”

Hermione unbuttoned the second button as Harry felt the heat start to rise on his face.

“Men, being on average both larger and physically stronger than their female counterparts,” she said as her fingers dipped down to her breasts to reach the third button. “They were more naturally inclined to being the hunters, warriors, protectors, and providers while women specialized in other spheres.”

‘Did she have to say spheres?’ Harry mentally moaned as the lack of give holding his hands told him that he was still held fast. He couldn’t help but to think about her breasts now; they were so close to being seen but even further out of reach than ever before.

“As a result, a man’s visual acuity and spatial awareness was all the more important to them,” Hermione explained as the blasted third button slowly made its way through its slit. “After all, it wasn’t just finding what they were hunting for that determined their success as men,” she said with a smile as the button was undone. “It was knowing what all they could do with it once they had it that was important,” she said leaning over slightly and causing her shirt to billow open, exposing the shapely curves of her bra-clad breasts to him.

“What do you think of that, Harry?” Hermione asked slyly.

“This is so not fair,” he said immediately, wanting more than anything to have his hands free so that he could be all over her like they were before. It wasn’t until her smile widened that he realized that he’d just given her exactly what she wanted.

“What’s not fair, Harry?” she asked coyly as she straightened up again and moved closer to him and continue to undo her buttons. “All I’m doing is getting undressed,” she said as her breasts dangled within easy arm’s reach – if only he could move his arms. “You’re the one that’s having all the fun. Do you have any idea just how many boys would consider themselves lucky to be in your position right now and see a girl do this?”

“With the way you look, all of them would consider themselves lucky to be here,” he agreed quickly. “But they’d also say that what you’re doing is–”

“–Torture?” Hermione offered as she opened her shirt wide to fully reveal her wonderful bra-clad breasts and toned and sexy stomach.

He was only blessed with that view for a moment though before she turned away from him.

“Perhaps they’d call it an exquisite and pleasurable agony that they never wanted to stop?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him as her blouse slipped down her arms to fall to the floor.

‘Damn it, even her back is sexy right now,’ Harry lamented as some feverish part of his brain briefly considered chewing his own hands off so that he could get to her. Having nothing but bloody stumps wouldn’t get him anywhere though because then he wouldn’t even be able to push her buttons even if he got to her. His eyes followed the soft curves of her back down to her skirt just in time to see that she was already at work loosening that too.

‘She’s trying to kill me,’ he thought as he wondered if there was anything else he could do to get closer to her, or at least get her closer to him. His legs were still free, so he could always use them. The problem with that though was besides toppling her over – which would accomplish nothing since he still wouldn’t be able to move – his legs were pretty much useless unless she decided to sit down again.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked as she undid the bit on the side of her skirt that held it snug. “You’ve gotten all quiet. Do you not like what I’m doing?” she asked as she bent over, slowly lowering her skirt over well-sculpted ass.

The snugness of the skirt took her panties along with it for a bit so that it lowered them just enough to show a hint of what they were hiding and it looked for a moment like her ass was a second pair of breasts that were being presented to him. With deep breaths coming through his nose and mouth Harry could smell a faint trace of whatever juices it was that Hermione’s pussy had left on his fingers hours ago, and this time he was much closer to it.

At that moment Harry wanted nothing so much as to rip those panties down and take a bite out of her ass and see what else she tasted like down there. He felt himself leaning forward but the sudden pain in his wrist that was against the wall held him back. If he went any further then he’d probably risk breaking his arm, but what a thing to break it for!

He sat back just in time for Hermione to miss that he’d moved; he didn’t want her to know that he could in case a better opportunity presented itself.

“Oops!” she said playfully as she looked back around her ass at him and pulled her panties all the way up, making them stretch so tightly that they gave no illusion as to what treasures lay hidden beneath. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

The main thing Harry could hear now was the blood pounding in his ears and his own deep breaths. The same sexual thrill he’d gotten hours before from making her writhe and moan was singing through his veins so powerfully that it made him feel more like an animal than a man; in a brief mad thought he wondered if Professor Lupin felt like this every time he saw a full moon too. His skin on his face tingled like magic was ready to burst out of him and it felt like every hair on his head standing on end.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you once I get out of this?” Harry said as he flexed his arms while she stood and turned a bit so that he could see her from the side.

“You won’t be doing anything, Harry,” Hermione said with a smile as she played with fire and leaned over to put her hands on his knees. “You seem to think that I’ll be letting you go after this,” she said as she ran her hands up his legs. “I’m of half a mind to simply take you home with me; that way I could do whatever I wanted with you,” she explained as her hands found his penis.

“Oh! It looks like someone’s been enjoying the show,” she said coquettishly before getting on her knees in front of him. “Let’s see if he wants to come out and play,” Hermione said as her hands went up to undo his slacks.

Suddenly Harry wondered if what she had planned actually went a lot further than he’d thought. Seamus had talked about blow jobs but he had never been able to come up with a reason why a girl would ever want to do something like that. Seeing that Hermione was getting off on being the world’s biggest tease though Harry didn’t have to wonder any more – or at least about why they’d start to do it. All he wondered about now was whether this teasing would ever stop.

Slacks unbuttoned and unzipped, Hermione wasn’t done – nor was she satisfied at just digging in his underwear to retrieve what she was after. Instead, she hooked her fingers around the top edge of his pants and pulled them down towards her, and took his underpants with her! Out of shock Harry lifted his butt from the toilet seat so that he was all but naked from the waist down before he’d realized what she was doing.

‘Never doubt Hermione’s ability to get what she wants,’ he thought as his dick bobbled upright between them and her hand went back along his leg to get to it.

“Here we are,” she said with a smile as her slender fingers playfully circled the tip before she wrapped her hand around it. “It looks larger in broad daylight but it feels just the same.”

“Er – thank you?” Harry said, not really sure what you were supposed to say to something like that.

His hopes for a quickly bobbing and slurping Hermione – or more likely an annoyingly coy and irritatingly teasing one – slid away as she stood up again, so he didn’t know whether to be frustrated or thankful. Hope was renewed though when she straddled his legs to regain her seat on his lap. He was convinced that she targeted what she did on purpose though because there was no way that her bumping the tip of his dick against that happy spot of hers at the front of her pussy and sliding herself down the length of his cock was an accident on her part.

‘This is so not fair,’ he thought again as he tried in vain to free himself from the sink.

His hand was so close to her ass that he wanted to smack it, or reach out and pull her even closer to his dick, the warmth of her pussy there was driving him insane. His other hand that was stuck to the wall he could’ve used to rip that bra off of her and in her shock dart around behind her to quickly yank those panties to one side, lift her up, and bring her back down to engulf his cock. Harry had felt what her pussy was like on the inside but that was with a few fingers, right now he wanted to see her moan and thrash around on his dick and could see her doing it in his mind.

“How’s that Harry?” Hermione asked as she reached the base of it and pulled him from his daydream, for which he gave her a frustrated groan that was almost a growl. “You didn’t like it?” she asked with an ever-so innocent look on her face. “Perhaps if I did it like this…” she said before forming a ring with her fingers like he’d shown her to do and used the lower three to hold his dick tight against her pussy as she raised herself up and then lowered herself back down again.

‘This is inhumane,’ he mentally moaned as she gave him a hand job directly against her pussy.

Up and down she went, her breasts swaying as she moved. Her hips slowly gyrating as she slid along his cock so there wasn’t a bit of her slit that went neglected. Harry’s blood boiled and he wanted her to go further, to stop all this playing around really fuck him if she was going to.

For one brief moment he thought that she might when she raised herself up and angled his penis so that it was right at the entrance of where only his fingers had been before. She pressed down and he felt the heat and moisture there settle on the crown of his top – now if only those blasted panties weren’t in the way he’d be there! As quickly as it happened though Hermione moved it away to slide back down it again the same as she had before.

“Oh, come on!” he cried in frustration as he leaned forward slightly to try to catch her lips with his only to have her back teasingly away.

“Come on what, Harry?” Hermione asked as she sent her other hand back behind her to undo her bra. “Surely, you don’t want to cum on me, do you?” she asked coyly as the bra slipped down her arm and her breasts were bared. “That’d make an awfully big mess, wouldn’t it?” she infuriatingly asked as new mental images bloomed in his mind and her bra joined her shirt and skirt on the floor.

“I’d let you cum elsewhere, but then we’d have all sorts of other problems,” she teased as she rode his shaft upwards again.

Her bare breasts dangling directly in front of his face and his patience at its limit, Harry had to do something. He lurched forward as quickly as he could and bit her left breast, sucking her nipple as hard as he could. It took a moment for Hermione to react and push him away, but when she did she was more than a little breathless, so he knew he’d had an effect. He could only hope this would lead to something good though.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” she said with a lusty grin. “You can’t even accept a simple punishment without trying to fight it; no wonder you end up in Detention so often. Perhaps I should leave you here alone so you can think about what you’ve done?” Hermione said with a look that said that she was only halfway serious about it.

“You don’t want to do that,” Harry told her as he used his legs and hips to move her into grinding into him.

“That’s true,” she admitted, keeping one hand on his chest while the other snaked down to tease his bell end once again. “But this isn’t about me, Harry, it’s about you. I may not be nearly as good at this as you but are you not having enough fun?” she asked as she went back to slowly jacking him off.

“We could both have a bit more,” he said, hoping that she’d get his point.

“We could,” Hermione agreed, “but this isn’t about me at all so I’m afraid that’s simply out of the question. I’ll just have to go back to getting absolutely no pleasure out of this at all,” she said as her actions on his dick began to speed up and feel better than ever.

“I-I understand what you’re trying to say now,” Harry said as his dick seemed to throb in her hand. “It was very wrong of me to make you have all the fun before,” he quickly added in a bid to get this all to end while he still had a chance to give as good as he got.

“That’s a good boy, Harry,” she whispered to him as she leaned closer to him and continued to tease him with her hand. “Now tell me how we’ll avoid this in the future,” Hermione prompted.

“I won’t hold you down anymore,” he breathed. 

“But Harry,” Hermione’s face fell in a playful pout as she jacked him faster, “as unwelcome as it was, I found that I liked being held down. You wouldn’t want to be mean to me by depriving me of that, would you? Then I might have to punish you again for not holding me down when I wanted you to.”

He gave out a frustrated growl and wanted to pull the train apart just to get free and ravish her.

“Fine!” Harry said finally, at a loss of anything else to say. “I’ll give you what you want. I’ll let you give me fun as well. Just let me go so I can touch you!”

“Hm, that may not work either,” she said with a furrowed brow as she just couldn’t decide. “But either way I can’t let you go right now, Harry,” she said with a smile as he started to reach the end of his rope. “That just wouldn’t be fair.”

“Then what do you want?” he asked as he desperately tried to hold himself back.

Hermione leaned in close before she responded.

“I want your cum,” she cooed as his will began to break. “Give me your cum, Harry. Please?” she begged, “I want it.”

Harry felt his balls tighten and it felt like something slipped loose within it as his dick began to pulse. All he could do was gasp as it started spurting out of him uncontrollably. Hermione leaned back again in surprise but there was no mistaking the splatter that marked her stomach and started leaking down as more spurts burst forth from the tip of his cock. Harry leaned back against the wall when it was done, feeling like he’d just run a marathon, but Hermione looked ecstatic.

“You have fun, Harry?” she asked with a beaming smile, in turnabout from those times he’d asked her the same thing.

He simply nodded before leaning forward to kiss her, and this time she allowed it. Afterwards, the stickiness around his groin made him look down to see his rapidly-shrinking dick deflating through her cum-covered hand. She followed his eyes down and brought her hand up as if to look at the milky-white substance that had pooled on it in the light while her other hand felt what remained on her stomach and brought it up to her nose to smell it.

“It’s kind of odd,” Hermione said studiously. “It has a faint smell but it doesn’t really smell like anything,” she declared.

She turned her attention to the pools and strands of it on her other hand and looked like she was considering something. He was going to ask her what the heck she was doing when she surprised him by suddenly bringing her hand up to her mouth and silently slurping up a large amount of his cum.

His brain seemed to shut down as an appraising look crossed her face. No matter how much of a bookworm she was, the one thing that ever-proper Hermione would never stoop to study was the taste of his cum, would she? Harry had to be dreaming.

“It’s interesting,” she said finally. “There’s a bit of an aftertaste but it’s not bad. Not nearly as salty as I’d heard or as disgusting as I thought it’d be.”

“You’re eating my cum when you thought it’d be disgusting?” Harry asked as she continued cleaning her hand by licking and sucking it up.

“Well I had to know for sure, didn’t I?” Hermione asked as if he doubted her reasoning abilities. “Since we’re going to be doing this from now on, sooner or later curiosity was bound to get the better of us. Have you never wondered what a girl tastes like?”

“Not until today, no,” he answered honestly.

“Well, perhaps if you’re good you’ll be able to find that out in the future,” she said with a smile. “Not today though because he’s already had his fun,” she said looking down at his dick, which had started poking at her again from below when he hadn’t noticed – probably as soon as she’d started cleaning her hand.

“Yes, and I don’t know how much more ‘fun’ I can take,” Harry said, gesturing to his raised and bound hand with his head. “I think that hand’s almost dead.”

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione apologized as she got off his lap, now seemingly back to her normal self as she retrieved her wand. “Finite,” she said before he felt his arms go free and he flexed his hands to get the blood pumping back into them. “Now that–!”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as Harry sprang at her, taking her by the wrists and pinning her to the bathroom wall and kissing her. She moaned a bit as he pressed against her before she turned her head to the side.

“Harry, we can’t,” she breathlessly moaned as she used her legs to trap his penis in a small gap between the tops of her thighs, nestling it up against the pussy where it belonged. “Nooo...,” she cooed as he took the opportunity to go after her earlobe as she’d tried on him earlier, only with much more success.

“Now that I know that spell – and the fact that you like this – there’s nothing stopping me from taking you now,” he whispered into her ear. “I may just make you beg for it though,” he said with a malicious grin that she didn’t see before lowering his head to give her soft bites on her neck.

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” Hermione asked helplessly as she slowly began massaging his cock with her inner thighs by moving her hips. “You were so mean to me though that I just can’t give it to you today,” she purred. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“What I understand,” Harry said with a smile as he left her neck to look at her face to face and right in the eye, “is that you like to tease.”

Hermione had a bit of a grin herself as she considered it for a moment, “Yes, I do believe I do.”

Just as quickly her demeanor dropped back to normal.

“Now you hurry up and leave,” she said as she brought her hands down and shooed him away. “What?” she asked at his curious look. “I’ve got to freshen up, and as close as we are now we’re not that close.”

It was all he could do to chuckle and pull his pants back up. The more he learned about what she was like beneath that bookish exterior the hotter, weirder, and sexier Hermione seemed to get.

‘Maybe Dean was right about the quiet ones after all.


Being able to have multiple orgasms in a single – she didn’t know what the proper word for it was… session? – was a wonderful thing. She’d always seen masturbation as a base and dirty activity but that was before Harry had flipped that sexual switch in her brain yesterday. As it was now, she’d experienced so many new things that had only been academic before – albeit in a Health/Sex Ed kind of way, which didn’t really qualify as academic in her opinion – that Hermione knew that she’d be doing a lot more of it this summer.

Once she’d gotten Harry clothed again and out of the bathroom she’d quickly moved to take care of herself. She’d gotten off once by imagining him listening to her outside and trying in vain to get back in and take her himself, the second time had been when she’d imagined herself throwing caution to the wind as she’d held him captive and really letting herself go as she rode him to completion, and the third time had been when her teasing had driven him mad and he’d somehow broken free to take her from behind as she was pressed up against the wall. She didn’t know what was going on with her, except perhaps the normal rampaging teenage hormones, but she had never felt so alive.

Once she’d cleaned herself up as much as she could and had gotten redressed, she left to find Harry waiting patiently for her a short distance away like the gentleman he was – when they weren’t sexually torturing each other in private that is. She put an arm around him as they walked back to their compartment and he did the same. It felt good – almost like they were really boyfriend and girlfriend – so perhaps if he ever managed to get permission to visit Hogsmeade they could make it official.

That good feeling didn’t last long though; they had to stop when they reached the compartment since Ginny was inside. It had been painfully obvious – at least to her – that the other girl had been harboring a crush for Harry for the last two years. It had been helped on no doubt by him killing a giant monster and literally saving her soul from being devoured by a bewitched book.

While Hermione didn’t know the other girl too well, outside the standard pleasantries and what she could glean in passing, it still wouldn’t be good form to parade the alteration of their relationship in front of her. That’d be far too cruel to do that to her and she certainly wasn’t that kind of person. Perhaps if she found a way to encourage the girl to be interested in things that didn’t specifically involve Harry then it’d be much less upsetting to her when she finds out about them later on.

The problem though was figuring out what someone you didn’t know well was interested in. She had never been good at making pleasant conversation but she’d do anything for Harry, and that included ensuring that he didn’t have to deal with uncomfortable situations like this if there was something she could do to prevent it.

With that in mind, she opened the door and went in.


Harry and the luckiest girl in the world entered the compartment as a secret couple, even their actions said it. She’d seen them walking close together as they’d approached but as soon as the door was open Hermione tried to put as much distance between them as possible. She might as well have said, “Harry just fucked me!” and it would’ve been as polite.

“Harry, you’ve got a letter,” Ron said, calling Harry over to him as the girl sat beside her.

“It’s from–,” Harry himself off quickly with a glance at her; of course she wasn’t going to be included in anything. “It’s from my godfather,” he said meaningfully.

“Did he get away alright?” the wild-haired girl asked as Ginny tried to shut herself away from the others by reading Quidditch Through the Ages.

“Yeah, he sent this feathery little git along too,” Ron said gesturing up to the cute little snitch of an owl that had finally fallen asleep. Unlike how he usually complained about things though her brother didn’t seem to really mind it for some reason. “He thought that I could do with a new pet.”

“That was thoughtful of him,” Hermione said as her squashed-faced cat jumped up into her lap.

“Yeah. Don’t need to worry about Crookshanks eating this one though,” her brother explained as the cat in question started showing its owner affection by licking her hand. “I already checked with him, he wasn’t interested.”

“Well that’s – No, Crookshanks,” the girl said for some reason before standing up to put the cat in his wicker basket.

“That’s not all, he also sent Harry–,” Ron started before the boy himself interrupted him.

“–It’s a Hogsmeade permission slip,” the boy of her dreams beamed. “That’ll be good enough for Dumbledore.”

“That’s great, Harry,” Hermione smiled as if she’d hit the thousand galleon prize.

Looking at her from the corner of her eye, it wasn’t hard to see why Harry had gone for that girl instead of her. Hermione might not be the biggest in the years around them but she had two big things up on her when it came to attracting attention, and she wasn’t talking about her beaver-like teeth. Her own breasts were small and she was beginning to doubt if they’d ever come in.

Ginny had hoped that Harry would come to like her despite that if he ever got to know her; now though it looked like she’d never get the chance. She wished she had bigger breasts, or at least some way of getting Harry to like her more. Even if he didn’t end up choosing to be with her exclusively and getting married, at least then she’d know that she’d given it her best shot, and that was better than never getting to try.

“So you like Quidditch?” Hermione asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

“What?” she asked, glancing over to see that Harry and Ron had lapsed into their own conversation about the upcoming summer.

“Your book,” the other girl prompted. “Ron’s got one like it of course but do you like the game as well?”

“Oh, um – yeah,” Ginny admitted quietly, feeling a bit awkward trying to talk with the girl without picturing her naked and in Harry’s bed. “It’s Ron’s anyway, but I like it too. I’ve always wanted to play for the Holyhead Harpies,” something within her made her admit.

If she was honest with herself she knew exactly what had made her admit it: it was part of the dream life she’d been wanting to have. Somehow or other she’d get on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (though she didn’t particularly like the thought of trying out in front of the entire house), then once she’s there she might get a bit more popular and hopefully get Harry’s attention (though exactly how was still beyond her, though she would’ve hopefully had had bigger breasts by then).

After that they’d start dating and he’d fall madly in love with her. Then they’d graduate and she’d start playing for the Harpies for a few years and make a name for herself, and then they could get married, have kids (she thought three of them would do), and she could work as a Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet. That just wasn’t going to happen now though for without there being some connection to Harry in there none of it seemed even remotely possible.

“The Holyhead Harpies?” Hermione asked when she had fallen silent. “Are they your favorite team?”

“They’re the all-witches team,” she replied, not wanting to lose that dream. “And they’re a good one too.”

She suddenly felt a little wobbly in the head. It almost felt like someone had spun her around really fast when she wasn’t looking. Confused, she looked at Hermione. Had the other girl said something?

“What you want to do with your life is a good thing and you could serve as a good role model for other girls all over the country,” the other girl said softly.

Ginny nodded; being with Harry was a good thing, even if it wasn’t exclusive – and so was going out for Quidditch.

She became confused again as how any of that would work seemed to fuzz up her brain, but again Hermione had the answer.

“If you truly want to achieve your goals then you shouldn’t be afraid to be more outgoing and take concrete steps to achieve those goals.”

The worrying fog cleared quickly after that, “You’re right.”

Everything seemed so simple now. She could be confident, especially when it came to Quidditch. She had six brothers and most of them were practically born with a broom in their hands and she was just the same. And when it came to Harry, there still had to be some way of getting his attention, even if it was through breasts. Surely there was some magical method she could use to help with that too. She can’t have been the first witch to ever worry about her bust size; there had to be a way.

“Hey, Harry,” Ginny said, the words popping out of her mouth before she realized that they were the first words that she’s spoken to him in a very, very long time. For some reason though she didn’t feel nearly as nervous about that as she would have a moment ago; still nervous, just not as much. “Have you heard anything about who’s going to be Quidditch Captain now that Wood’s gone?”

“What do you mean ‘gone?’” Harry asked.

“He just graduated, Harry,” Hermione explained. “She’s right. There’ll be a position to fill.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ron said with a smile, probably already imagining himself as Keeper.

They talked Quidditch for a good long while after that, which naturally led to the subject of the Quidditch World Cup that was being held that summer. Ron was excited to go and even went so far as to invite Harry to go too. After that it was getting pretty late in the afternoon, but they still had time for a few games of Exploding Snap before they arrived at the station.

As they arrived she couldn't help but think about how much she kind of owed Hermione. If the girl hadn't left the compartment to go snog Harry in private then she never would've entered, never would've found out what was going on between them, and never would've gotten the peptalk or included in the conversation afterwards.

If the rest of the summer kept going the way it seemed to be starting out as things might actually be looking up for her as far as her goals went. And when she thought about it, just because she was going to do what she could in order to occasionally end up naked in Harry’s bed just like Hermione did didn’t mean that the two of them couldn’t still be friends.

"If Dad's able to get tickets for the Cup then you should come too," she said to Hermione as they dragged their trunks towards the train exits. "I should warn you though, Mum is going to make you sleep in my room."


Even with all the customary noise and people that were always on the platform it was harder to watch Hermione go than he'd expected. After everything they'd done together that simple hug before she went off with her parents seemed more important than all the past orgasms combined. Having that new connection with her as something more than friends after missing out on having a Dursley-free life with Sirius really made him want to avoid going back to Privet Drive at all costs.

And as he stood there thinking about it, why should he go back? His aunt and uncle didn't want him any more than he wanted to be there and after what he'd done to Aunt Marge he'd be lucky not to get stuck back in the cupboard under the stairs again. The only other place he'd been invited to stay at though was the Burrow... was it too early to see if he could go home with them? He could always Confund them but he'd learned from Hermione that you could never really be sure how that would turn out. Still, he didn't think that it'd hurt to ask.

Bringing his trolley back around to where the Weasleys had gathered he saw Mr. Weasley at the front of the line of them disappear with Ron in one hand and his trunk in the other while Mrs. Weasley and the others looked on. Harry didn't see Ginny in the line so she must've been the first one that'd left. He'd known ever since that disastrous attempt to fly to Hogwarts in the Weasleys' car more than a year ago that they had other means to get about but he'd never seen it before besides them using the floo.

As he watched Mr. Weasley popped up again in almost the same spot and Percy walked up for with his trunk for the next trip. When they were gone Harry took his chance with Mrs. Weasley and drew the kind, motherly woman to one side.

"I know this is going to sound really odd," he started out nervously, his jumble of words telling him just how much it was that he wanted this. "And I hate to intrude, but do you think it'd be alright if I stayed with you this summer? I really don't want to have to go back to my Aunt and Uncle's."

Mrs. Weasley's face looked a little anguished for a moment before she spoke.

"Harry, dear," she started out in a way that sent his stomach plummeting to the floor. "You know that we love having you stay – you're practically a seventh son to us – so of course we'd love to have you over if we could. We even told Professor Dumbledore as much when we asked if we could take you this year instead but he says that it's very important that you spend a little time with your family each year."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked as Mr. Weasley left with Fred, leaving only George behind to come back for. If he didn't have her convinced by the time the last one left Harry didn't think he'd ever get to go. "What does he have to do with where I stay during the summer?" he asked, not following where her train of thought was taking her. 

"Well, with your parents... you know," she said quietly, trying to get around mentioning that his parents were both dead. "We weren't really sure who to contact about something like that, but since he is the Headmaster and a very important man – Well, surely he'd know what to do."

"And the best he could come up with was that I should go live with people who hate me?" he asked, wondering how that squared with the wise and all-knowing Professor Dumbledore that he knew. "I don't care if they're related to me and neither do they; they'd be glad to be rid of me. They may not even be there on the other side of the gateway to see if I turn up."

Her face looked all the more pained as her husband returned and quickly disappeared with George, leaving them both behind and him feeling very much alone.

"I'm sorry, Harry, dear, but he does think it's best," Mrs. Weasley said finally, seeming at a loss for any other reason to give him. "We'll get you out just as soon as we can though, I can promise you that."

'It can't be ending this way,' Harry thought as everything seemed to crash down around him. 'It just can't be.'

He still had the Confundus, but was it right to use it? They weren't supposed to do magic outside of school but did this qualify? Would anyone know if he'd used it? He hadn't intended to make Hermione do all those things with him, but when he looked at it it seemed like she really wanted to do that stuff with him, so he couldn't really say that the Confundus had had anything to do with it at all.

He didn't want to do it but he really didn't have a choice. After everything that's happened he didn't know how he'd survive another summer with the Dursleys. Maybe, just maybe, if he chose just the right words for it then maybe he could convince Mrs. Weasley to take him in without anything else happening because of it at all.

Harry looked beyond her to see if Mr. Weasley was going to show up again and his movement must've made her curious because she turned to look as well. Knowing it was now or never and that any trouble he got into with the Ministry of Magic would be worth it if it meant he'd never have to go back to the Dursleys' again, Harry pulled his wand and aimed it at the nice motherly woman that he felt absolutely awful for betraying.

"Confundo," he whispered, really wishing that there'd been some other way.

"If you really thought of me as an honorary member of the family–," Harry said, with his eyes watering from wanting to cry at the abandonment and shame he felt as Mrs. Weasley looked at him confusedly and he put the wand away. "–Then you wouldn't let Professor Dumbledore hold you back from helping me when I need it the most."

The matronly woman blinked a time or two before seeming to see him again.

"Oh, Harry, dear. Come here," she said as she bent down to give him a much needed hug.

It was so different than the one that Hermione had given him just moments ago. It was more welcoming and soothing, more protective and nurturing in a way that he'd never felt before. It was more... the only word he really had for it was 'motherly,' and it was now that he'd had it he knew that that was all that he'd ever really wanted.

She sniffed when she finally pulled away from him.

"Now you dry those eyes, dear," she said as she wiped a bit of water from the corner of her own. "Arthur will be getting worried that I haven't shown up yet, and you'll take a bit of explaining, but he'll see the sense of it. Still," she continued, "a boy your age won't want the boys to know that your eyes were watering before we got there."

Even if she did have to be magically encouraged to do it, Harry was immensely thankful all the same. Mrs. Weasley handed him Hedwig's cage from off the top of his trolley and took his trunk herself.

"You ready to go home, dear?" she asked once he'd scrubbed his eyes dry and had a firm hold of both her hand and the cage.

Harry didn't trust his voice to answer so he just nodded.

With a smile and a twist, the nice witch took him away.

Chapter Text

The rhythmic tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump of wheels rolling across concrete bridge slabs sent tiny jolts of movement up through the car and straight to Hermione’s crotch and for the first time she didn’t care how old the ancient Mini was or say a word of complaint about it. As long as she could sit in the back and enjoy the sensations that it and grinding against the seat could cause, she’d be a happy camper. That curious turn of phrase though quickly started her off on yet another pleasant daydream, again starring her mop-headed more-than-friend Harry.

They were on the run from escaped convicts, a corrupt Ministry, or a resurrected Voldemort. With only each other to depend on, they could be found any second; that was why they’d taken to the safety of the woods – to a romantic, secluded spot like the Forrest of Dean – where no one’d think to find them. There, with danger all around them and societal expectations a world away, they lived like vagabonds, if vagabonds had rampant sex while playing house in spacious tents that is.

In truth, while the tent would be nice, it wasn’t what she’d call required. She’d do anything for Harry, so she’d just as soon shag in a shack or lay in a lean-too as long as it was with him. And now that she’d thought of it, she could see how having sex in the openness of nature could appeal to people too, provided it had a romantic view and no one to see for miles.

Covertly tweaking her nipple as she silently increased the adventurous-yet-low-grade state of sexual excitement anyone less cultured than her might classify as ‘horny behavior,’ Hermione tried to satisfy her lust for the boy without doing anything to alert her parents. Annoyingly, her prolonged silence only prompted them to try and engage her in conversation, which only frustrated her plans, and replying with the banalities of life didn’t help.

Who cared how good their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was or how he’d turned out to be one of Harry’s parents’ old friends when there was the wonders of sex to contemplate? And honestly, when you came right down to it, learning the joys of sex was far more world-changing than anything dealing with Sirius Black, though meeting Harry’s godfather made for a more parent-friendly conversation.

Hermione briefly thought about setting out some overt hints that she and Harry were about to become involved for her parents to pick up, but in the end she decided against it. Other parents might miss the more subtle signs but hers were intelligent; they were sure to pick up on how she really only spoke about Harry and make the connection themselves. It was just the kind of fig-leaf they needed to avoid the uncomfortable and unneeded Talk for if they chose to address the subject directly and it didn’t end with the outcome they’d want, her parents would have face the fact there was no way they could control her actions anymore, and all parents avoided that like the plague.

She kept all those thoughts to herself, of course, which made for a boring ride home. Thoughts of hiding things with Harry from her parents – thereby making it seem like an illicit affair – helped to pass the time but there was really only one way this could go. As soon as she got home Hermione was going to have to take care of those urges herself.

 


If the first time her father called her from below had Hermione petrified, him calling again her when she could hear his footsteps on the stairs brought about pure panic. She sat up on her bed and looked around for something to cover her nakedness. She was in deep. What was she to do to get out of this?! It couldn’t have been an hour yet, could it? 

“Grab the trunk and drag it into the closet, quick!” the other girl whispered, already on top of things.

Hermione scrambled to comply, picking up one side of her school trunk and hauling it backwards into the dark closet on the far side of the room. Hiding might solve part of the problem but not all of it, she thought, and what would he say if he saw them? They were breaking so many rules and laws she didn’t know how many it was, but it was certainly enough to see her expelled.

“The bathrobe!” the other girl almost hissed in her attempt to stay unheard.

“Oh, of course!” Hermione breathed in reply as she threw open the trunk, wondering where her part came into this.

“Not you – me!” other girl corrected her when she began to put the robe on herself.

“Right,” she said, now more than a little confused as she threw her pink bathrobe to the girl.

“You just remember what you’re supposed to do,” the other girl said nebulously as she threw the bathrobe around herself, as if what she said was supposed to mean anything.

A glint of gold between the other girl’s bare breasts reminded Hermione of what was going on and as fast as that she began to see how everything would fit together in the end. With only a few seconds remaining, she dove back into the trunk in search of her own golden hourglass necklace. Hermione found it and put it on, giving it a turn just as the bedroom door opened. She’d traveled in time this year too many times to count, but never before had she done so naked.

Rather than the blur of color and shapes that normally accompanied use of the Time-Turner, barely anything happened from her vantage point besides the bedroom light going out and the closet door closing. It wasn’t all that surprising then that when the feeling of flying backwards stopped she found herself still in the same dark closet she’d left from, only this time it pitch black. Needing a moment to take a breath, Hermione went to sit down on the trunk– only to immediately fall further and bang her butt on the floor.

She rubbed the pain out of her behind as she mentally thumped herself for her lack of foresight. Muggle conceptions of time travel were well thought out but purely hypothetical, they’d never been put into practice before so most people who thought about such things tended to pick the timeline apart as if any time traveler would have an infallible ability to make everything match up. The truth was rather different.

Hermione hated to think after all this time she still didn’t have a full grasp on the practicalities of wizarding time travel but there had been several close calls this year when she’d forgotten the little things. She should’ve known the trunk wasn’t going to be there for her to sit on because she hadn’t brought it with her with she left and wouldn’t be arriving in the closet until she dragged it here in an hour. And even if she would’ve wanted to take it with her she wouldn’t have been able to since for it to have happened she would’ve had to have seen the trunk in the closet when she’d dragged the trunk into the closet an hour from now, and she hadn’t.

‘The other me had been right,’ Hermione decided. ‘The Time-Turner was certainly enjoyable, but it’s far more trouble than it’s worth.

She was drawn from her thoughts when she heard a sound outside: the bedroom door was being opened. Getting up to her knees, Hermione quietly turned the knob and opened the door a sliver to spy what was going on. She saw precisely what she knew she’d see.

Out in the room beyond a frizzy-haired girl, the same frizzy-hair girl she’d been an hour ago, had flicked on the lights and was dragging her school trunk into the room as if she hadn’t been masturbating the entire way from the station. Having an outside view of things, it was hard to see how she’d been deluded enough to think her obviously erect nipples from before weren’t obvious. Then again, she knew what to look for whereas her parents back then didn’t, and they hadn’t said something suspicious that hinted at anything.

Now that she found herself on this side of the situation though Hermione was having a hard time coming up with how was she supposed to start things off. Things had happened so fast time it was hard to remember. She saw her former self set down her trunk in the middle of the room and walk over to place her wand on the little work desk since it’d be useless during the summer.

That tickled something at the back of her mind she couldn’t quite place. She had certainly been foolishly resistant to the idea when she’d been the girl out there but had there been magic involved somehow? Hermione didn’t see how that could be but when you didn’t know such a crucial ‘why’ she supposed it’d be foolish to rule anything out.

A low moan drew her from her thoughts and she peeked through the cracked door to see the little younger version of herself had already closed the bedroom door and was laying back on her bed, kneading her breast through her shirt while her other hand toyed with what was under her skirt. Hermione had vaguely remembered being highly turned on with all the thoughts of Harry but seeing it from the outside made her seem much more wanton than it had seemed at the time.

‘Then again,’ Hermione reminded herself, ‘the only thing that’s happening is a normal girl engaging in a normal sexual behavior in the privacy of her own room. There’s nothing immodest or promiscuous about that, and it’s not like she’s doing such things with other people or where anyone in the world could see – not that that’s a bad thing. If that’s the way someone wishes to express their own sexuality, no one has the right to judge them and say it’s wrong. The most they can say is that it’s not for them.

Open-minded dithering aside, she knew it was time for her to do something. Unsure exactly how she was supposed to bridge this part of the loop to get to where she knew they’d get to, all that was left to her was to start moving and hope for the best. With one last calming breath, Hermione stood up and opened the closet door.

A slight creak had the other her bolt up protectively to disguise what she’d been doing.

“What – who?” the younger her quietly stammered, trying to come to grips with the intrusion.

“It’s alright,” Hermione whisperingly reassured herself. “I’m you from one hour in the future,” she said, though in truth it was a bit less than an hour now.

“Why are you naked?” her former self asked all agog.

“That’s rather irrelevant, don’t you think?” she replied.

“Not to me,” the younger Hermione retorted. “Why on Earth are you here? And why are you showing yourself? We’re not supposed to influence the past, remember?”

“I’m not influencing the past because this has already happened,” Hermione said prissily at the former her’s failure to think – that and for the first time seeing there may be some merit to her nagging too much. “This is a closed loop, a Bootstrap Paradox. An older me appeared to me when I was you, so I’ve got to appear to you now that I’m the older you. There’s no way out of this. Logically, it has to happen.”

“What has to happen?” the younger her asked dubiously.

Hermione stood up, showing her nakedness to her former self without a hint of fear, and said, “You and I are going to have sex.”

If Hermione had thought the younger her had been surprised before it was nothing to how she looked now.

“No, we’re not,” the other girl replied, seeming to argue for the sake of arguing.

“Yes, we are,” she maintained, her patience for the younger version of herself wearing very thin. “I already told you, it’s already happened.”

“Then it can just un-happen,” the obstinate younger-her replied, seemingly intent on unleashing whatever catastrophic consequences would come from a Bootstrap Paradox’s inability to repeat itself. “I’m not a lesbian.”

Suddenly Hermione had an idea and what the younger girl said gave her the perfect opportunity to use it.

“I can’t believe how homophobic and judgmental you’re being!” she said to herself harshly.

The younger girl’s eyes popped at the accusation. “I’m not homophob–,” she tried to protest but Hermione had already darted out to seize her wand and nailed her with a quick Confundus.

“You’re a properly open-minded liberal when it comes to the legal rights of people with other forms of sexuality since no one has the right to judge consenting sexual activity,” she said to the slightly younger her as the girl looked at her in a somewhat confused state.

“Confundo!”  Hermione said again, putting her past self under the spell again before placing the wand back on the desk and sitting down on the bed. “Since Harry is the only boy you’ll ever have sex with, you should open yourself to the prospect of exploring your sexuality as much as possible within that context.”

Sitting there as the gears in her past self’s mind worked to incorporate what she’d just done to it and come back to reality, it made sense now why she couldn’t remember how things had gone when she was her. While the spell raised all sorts of issues, she didn’t think she could really complain since she was both victim and perpetrator in this case. Thinking back to how things had gone, Hermione didn’t think what she’d done had changed her too much though, it’d only opened her mind to new possibilities that she would’ve written off before, and that certainly wasn’t bad.

“Now that I think about it,” the younger Hermione said drawing her from her thoughts, “I can’t find anything to object to in what you said. It must’ve just been the shock before,” the girl said as if mentally thumping herself. “What you proposed – while an unauthorized and unusual use of the Time-Turner – is technically no different than what I’d been doing when you arrived.”

“Masturbation,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

The younger her still blushed and managed to look prudish at that though all she was doing was calling a spade a spade.

“Well – yes,” the younger her agreed. “Relieving sexual tension on our own, in whatever form, still amounts to the same thing. And it really isn’t what anyone would call ‘cheating’ either, so we can still look Harry in the eye the next time we see him.”

“True, though technically you couldn’t really cheat on Harry anyway since you’re not an official couple yet,” the overly-analytical part of her mind forced her to add for clarity.

“It was certainly implied,” the other her said scandalized.

“It was implied by you that you wanted to be but Harry never said the same,” Hermione rebutted. “Are you truly prepared to turn your back on Harry if all he wants is sex? And what if sex from one of you isn’t enough? You remember what he was able to do to us, what if two Hermiones were required to satiate his appetite? And what if you two were a couple and what sparked his desire was to include another girl, would you leave him then?”

“Of course not, I’d never leave Harry,” the other girl said matter-of-factly.

“Then you’d be willing to share him if you had to?” she asked the newly open-minded girl. “You’d engage in sexual intercourse with other girls, not just grudgingly but enthusiastically? Are you prepared to have other girls touch you in ways only he has and do to them what you wish he would do to you?”

“I’d do anything for Harry,” the younger Hermione said.

“I guess now it’s time to prove it,” Hermione said with a smile, pleased she could steer events where they were predestined to go.

Her younger self moved forward and kissed her, which was a little unusual no matter which side of it she was experiencing. She had powered through it when she’d been the other girl, mainly because she’d felt she had something to prove, but now that she was in the elder position though it felt like trying to put your shoes on the wrong feet. If she was doing this with Harry and another girl it might be different, but as it was…

Another thing that made it odd was her slightly-larger-than-normal front teeth. How were you supposed to kiss the other person properly if your teeth were banging into each other out of sheer unwieldiness? Harry hadn’t said anything about it but Hermione filed the problem away for later solving. She’d do anything for Harry and if it meant altering the less-than-optimal cosmetic bits of her appearance for better sexual compatibility then so be it, and what society would say of that be damned.

She was so distracted by these thoughts for the first several seconds she hadn’t even noticed the younger her had already taken the sexually aggressive position with her and she was the one leaning backwards. Hermione put a hand on the other girl’s chest and pushed her back a bit to break the kiss. The other girl looked at her questioningly for being drawn up short.

“But I thought–,” the younger Hermione said in an ‘I don’t understand how this answer could be wrong’ kind of way. The logical progression of how the other girl thought events should go was written so plainly on her face that even without the help of having experienced her perspective only an hour ago would’ve told her everything the younger her was thinking. Fortunately, for that girl’s perspective, that wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“A bad choice of words on my part,” Hermione explained as she leaned forward and pushed the other girl further until the younger her was the one that was in the submissive position. “In order to give you must first receive,” she said, smiling at her own cleverness.

Hermione knew the theoretical importance when it came to foreplay but she doubted whether kissing and groping herself would ever feel completely normal in this kind of context. While it could be argued it amounted to nothing more than a bit of lesbianic incest, that would only hold if you thought of them as monozygotic twins rather than the same person living the same hour over again. It wasn’t like they’d been raised as twins though and knew the other was an independent person, that could be seen as an expression and extension of sisterly love rather than the baser self-love she now saw this as.

The whole thing made her feel that what she was doing to undress and stimulate the other girl was more workmanlike than she deserved but she couldn’t make the feeling go away. It did lessen a bit though when she reminded herself that she hadn’t had any complaints when she’d been the one on the receiving end and had then been preoccupied with the fact that this was her first female-female sexual experience, didn’t know what to expect, wondered what Harry would think of it if he found out, and attributed any uncomfortableness to the fact the older her would be working her way through it too.

That momentarily dizzying bit of self-reflection made her wish she could be a bit less cerebral when the time called for it.

Despite knowing exactly how well it would be received, Hermione still found herself somewhat reluctant to get things started… down there. Masturbating was one thing, what this required her to do was something else entirely and it was a big black hole in her knowledge she wasn’t comfortable confronting. Getting her past self naked had created a moderately more comfortable zone for her though, being able to get away from the girl’s face as she moved down her body let her treat the other girl’s body as simply another girl’s body and imagine it as some other girl.

It seemed strange to her that it was more comfortable to imagine herself kissing and teasing her way down the body of Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, or any of the other girls she tangentially knew than it was to acknowledge the reality of what she was doing but supposed there was a limit to what even her newly self-Confunded open-minded sexuality would allow her to get used to. After a bit of over-the-panties preparatory rubbing of the genitals, eventually she’d made her way down far enough for it to be past time for the panties to be gone. The girl beneath her seemed eager to comply and so Hermione finally found herself face-to-bush with what she knew she had to do.

Steeling herself, she dove through her fears to attack the pussy directly.

There was a distinct taste the aroused smell hadn’t quite prepared her for but what distracted her from all of it was the hair. Hermione had always discarded the thought of “manicuring” what went on down there as the height of vanity but now she was forced to see the practical side of things. It was hard enough to go down on what you tried to imagine being another girl, but it was even more so when ‘down there’ wasn’t as appealing as it could be.

She’d definitely be grooming herself down there from now on, she decided. It needed a severe trimming if she ever hoped to have Harry do this to her. Perhaps she’d look for some way to shave the area entirely, though she didn’t like the thought of taking a razor to it. Regardless, she’d do anything for Harry and if the future-her’s hypotheticals she’d just passed on to her former-self ever came to pass and Harry wanted to add another girl or use the Time-Turner in their sex life, then she was going to do what she could to be prepared, and including ‘down there.’

What she had instinctually begun to do to the area before her drew approving sounds from the other girl, which helped combat her lack of confidence. Newly reassured in this, Hermione began branching out, adding things that Harry’d done to her earlier in order to replicate it and figure out what had made it so good. It became rather easy then to construct a routine, and with the routine a lack of need to analyze what was going on.

With each new thing she did and the longer things went on, Hermione found herself able to sympathize with Harry’s impulse to hold her down and pleasure her until she blacked out. There was very little work in it on her part and the growing response she got from it was more than enough to make her want to continue. She did have to warn her past self about the rising noise level more than once, but fortunately it wasn’t something that a pillow over the face couldn’t cure.

With a bit of involuntary shaking and abdominal tensing, the other girl finally slumped on the bed and Hermione decided that it was time to stop. She rose back up to her knees as she wiped the juices from her mouth and chin, nudging her other self to move to one side so she could lay down as well. It was far more comfortable position to be in, laying naked beside her younger self, than it had been before the whole thing began, but she reckoned having your fingers in someone’s pussy, and their pussy in your mouth, for the last thirty minutes or so could do that.

“Oh,” the younger her said in an exhausted huff as they enjoyed the post-sex afterglow. “I must admit, I never thought of using the Time-Turner that way. And to think I was going to turn it in to Professor McGonagall!”

 “As novel and enjoyable as it may’ve been,” the older Hermione said to her younger self’s jest, “we’re definitely going to need to hand it back. You can’t really say Muggle Studies isn’t a soft option for people raised in muggle households and dropping it would let us have a normal year. If we have another year like this one we’ll go mad, especially if it includes more temporal loops like this.”

“I can see what you mean,” the younger version of her agreed. “Still, I don’t suppose there’s any rush to hand it in yet,” the other girl said curiously. “After all, it’s really useful.”

The strange look on the girl’s face and how she said that took a moment to register in her mind but when it did… there was really no other alternative. The younger her was flirting with her! Hermione tried to remember if she had flirted with the older her when she’d been that girl, but while she did recall saying something similar she didn’t think she’d intended to flirt, so if it was there it must’ve been subconscious. It looked as though some part of her had enjoyed the pseudo-masturbatory lesbianic sex they’d just had and didn’t want to foreclose on the possibility of more.

Thinking on it now, while it had made for an awkward beginning, that beginning was behind her now and it had been almost as much fun to give as it was to receive. Plus, it would fill the free time she’d have until she could see Harry again. And, by then, she’d probably know her own body and buttons better than he did, perhaps even discovering more. It was something to think about at least, though if she did she’d either be thinking about Harry or another girl – unfortunately though, she’d never had any girl crushes before.

“Well,” the younger girl said when she didn’t say anything, “I think it’d be bad form if I didn’t bring up reciprocity. You’ve done for me, so now it’d be your turn.”

‘Yep,’ she thought, ‘I had definitely liked receiving.

“While I’m all for reciprocity,” Hermione said in lieu of voicing her thoughts, “You’ve forgotten who I am. Technically speaking, it was my turn before I arrived, back when I was you,” she informed her younger self as a sinking feeling began creeping up on her. “So, when it comes to reciprocity–”

“Hermione?” her father called from below, cutting off the conversation and leaving them both petrified. Now she knew what that sinking feeling had been about: time was up. Footsteps on the stairs accompanied her father’s next call, but that went unanswered as well. Her younger self looked panicked but she knew what to do.

“Grab the trunk and drag it into the closet, quick!” she instructed the other girl in a whisper, sending her scrambling to comply. The younger her picked up one side of her school trunk and hauled it backwards into the dark closet on the far side of the room as she wracked her brain to remember what was next before it was too late.

“The bathrobe!” Hermione hissed as soon as she’d remembered.

“Oh, of course!” the other girl breathed in reply as she threw open the trunk and extracted it, though she did try to put it on herself.

“Not you – me!” she corrected other girl.

“Right,” the younger girl said, somewhat confusedly before she threw her the bathrobe.

“You just remember what you’re supposed to do,” Hermione quickly reminded her as she threw the bathrobe around herself and tucked the Time-Turner into the robe and hurried to synch up the belt before time ran out. She chanced a look over to the closet in time to see the younger her wrap her Time-Turner around her neck and disappear just as the bedroom door opened.

“Dad!” she said in a scandalized voice as she pulled the bath robe around her more tightly. “Don’t you know how to knock?! I could’ve been naked!”

The frizzy-haired, middle-aged dentist looked at her bewilderingly for a moment before asking, “Why would you have been naked? What were you doing in here?”

“It’s been a long day, I was about to go take a shower,” Hermione lied, the scenario seeming far more relatable than what had actually transpired.

“Oh – er – sorry about that,” her father said before getting to the reason he was there. “Your mother and I just got one of those owls from the Ministry of Magic. The letter said you’ve been doing magic outside of school.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said automatically, though if it hadn’t been for her time travel it really wouldn’t have made sense – or happened in the first place. “Let me see that,” she prompted, hoping to buy more time as she thought of a way out of this.

The letter was certainly very official-looking, so she couldn’t say it was a prank. It looked as though the Ministry had an automated system for detecting such magic too since they listed the spell she’d done and the times at which she’d cast it. Having such a prompt and detailed response though made her wonder how it operated and how it could tell the difference between what she’d done and accidental blow-ups like the one Harry had last summer.

“There must be some sort of mistake,” Hermione said as she pretended to scrutinize the letter more than she had. “That spell they mention, all it does is confuse someone, and I certainly wasn’t up here confusing myself. What would be the point of undoing everything I’d just spent the whole year learning?” 

“Oh,” her father said with a confused look. “That does seem rather silly, doesn’t it? You think we should send a reply?” he asked, buying the lie she’d told. “I wouldn’t want them to get the wrong impression of you.”

“That’s a good idea, but I think it might be better coming from me,” she replied. “I’d be able to explain all the reasons why I never would’ve done such a thing in the first place. I’m sure they’ll understand,” Hermione said, already wondering if the Ministry would be fooled if she presented it to them as an accidental bit of magic brought on by a fight with her parents.

“Ah, well, I guess I’ll leave it to you then,” her father said smilingly as he made his way back to the door. “Oh, and try not to take too long in the shower, dinner will be ready soon.”

“Will do,” she agreed as she followed him to the door and closed it behind him.

When she heard his footsteps going down the stairs again she slumped against the bedroom door breathing a sigh of relief. Once the excitement died down and her heartbeat returned to normal, Hermione set the letter on her desk and went to the trunk in the closet to pull out her bathroom things and clothes to change into. She was just about to leave the room when she heard her trunk slam shut and a muttered curse.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, wondering if she could make it to her wand on the other side of the room.

“It’s me, of course,” her own voice replied before another girl looking just like her, only with a snow white owl on her arm and wearing the clothes she’d picked out to change into, entered the room from the closet. “Do we really have to ask that question every time? Can’t we take it as a given that whenever someone comes out of the closet looking exactly like us, it’ll be a future version of ourselves?”

“I don’t see why not,” Hermione agreed. “Is that really Hedwig?” she asked, the owl in question swiveling its head to examine them both as if something funny was going on.

“Of course it is,” the other her replied, giving the owl a soothing pet. “Harry’s letter arrived just before I left, two hours from now. I was going to work on and send replies to him and the Ministry while you’re out of the room.”

“What did the letter say?” she asked, eager for any word from him.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to read it yet,” the older her said as if impatient to get on with it. “The one thing I do know is that he must’ve invited us over sooner than expected because you’re supposed to ask our parents if you can go to the Quidditch World Cup early if the Weasleys can get the tickets.”

“And what will they say?” Hermione asked.

“That you’ll have to find out on your own,” the future-her said with a bit of annoyance, “but be prepared to do a lot of persuading. Now, if you don’t mind,” the other girl said as she crossed to her desk, “I’m going to get started. Please remember to be quiet when you come back in to leave, I’ll be asleep by then.”

Time travel was certainly becoming annoying when there was no way to get straightforward answers out of herself. Inwardly grumbling about what a snooty little princess she can be, Hermione left the room to complete her part of the loop.


Harry had proved to be an unexpected, but no less welcome, addition to the Burrow. Her father hadn’t expected her mum to drag the boy home with her but in the end agreed with her reasoning. Why should they leave Harry with his horrible muggle relatives? Just because Dumbledore thought it was a good idea? That was a silly reason to do anything, really.

Somehow Harry had managed to do the impossible in getting that to happen, which only made Ginny even more determined to get just as close to him as Hermione was. Surely with him being there for the summer she’d be able to do that. So when she thought about it, why should she care how it’d happened when the important part was what came next?

Of course, with Harry there the boys became even more engrossed with the Quidditch World Cup than they had been on the train, spurred on by the twins’ better knowledge on the subject and their father mentioning that the qualifying round had finally come to an end. With the sixteen teams finally selected it’d only be a month until the First Round started and five more ‘til the Finals. Ministry-discounted seats were still hard to find, unless you were willing to pay dearly for them, but their dad said he still had a favor or two he could trade for them.

Things were instantly turned upside down again though when Harry offered not only to pay for the tickets, as a thanks for letting him stay here, but to pay for them to go early so they could see the whole thing! Their dad was shocked and their mum tried to say it wasn’t necessary, but something about the combined weight of all their pleading and whatever it was that made their mother want to make Harry’s life enjoyable caused her to relent. After that there was nothing left to say other than they promised to be on their best behavior while they were there.

Harry then wolfed down the rest of his dinner and excused himself, no doubt to let Hermione know about it straight away. If they were going to the Cup early, and Hermione was going with them, then she’d only have a month – probably less – to get Harry to like her like he did Hermione. But maybe the other girl wouldn’t be able to come, or if she did, only to the Final? It seemed rather unfair to exclude her but who knew if Harry would pay attention to her at all if Hermione was around for most of the summer?

“No, I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” her father said to something her mum had said. “Perkins – that old warlock in my office, you remember – he said we could use his tent and I’m sure I can find another for the girls somewhere.”

Once again Ginny had to mentally grumble at the extra complications he was adding. If she was sharing a tent with Hermione, how was she supposed to be alone and naked with Harry? She supposed that she and the other girl could split the time or share him equally, if Harry the other girl were willing, but with them having their own tent her dad was sure to notice if Harry was slipping in and out of it.

“I still don’t like the idea of you all being on your own for so long,” her mother said. “How are you supposed to fend for yourselves for five weeks? You all might be able to come and go, I suppose, but–”

“Well, why don’t you come along with us?” her father asked as everyone else got quiet and picked at their plates. Only the most horrible of people would argue to exclude their own mother, no matter how much less fun the trip will be with her.

“With you?” their mum asked dubiously.

“Why not? You don’t have to be a Quidditch fan to enjoy the experience,” he said with a smile. “There’s no telling who you’ll see there and you don’t need a ticket to hang around the tent and see the merchants.”

After that Ginny stopped listening; she knew her mother would agree eventually and now she had bigger concerns on her mind. With her mum coming along with them, it meant she was no longer going to be sharing a tent with just Hermione but with Hermione and her mum. With their dad watching over the boys in one tent and mum hovering over them in theirs, how was she ever supposed to be naked with Harry?

The whole thing was like one great big knot that refused to come undone because the more you tried to untangle it the more tangled it’d get.

Ginny mentally shoved it aside though because all the Quidditch World Cup problems depended on getting Harry interested in her before they left. Now that she looked at it, a month wasn’t that long, especially if the other girl that’s getting naked with him would be showing up sooner than expected too. Taking one step at a time she knew she’d have to do something big to get Harry’s attention, and for that she’d need two things: Quidditch and bigger breasts.

The Quidditch part was easy. Her brothers were eager to have anything to talk about besides their mother ruining all their Quidditch World Cup fun so suggesting that they play against each other in a Weasley World Cup was a welcome surprise. It drew strange looks at first, sure, and then they tried to sideline her completely because she was a girl, but justice was restored when her mother bullied them into letting her play or they wouldn’t be going to the Quidditch World Cup at all.

Every once in a while it paid to be a girl. Her mum may not like having a tomboy for a daughter but she wasn’t about to let them get away with something like that. In the end the boys twisted things around so that it was their idea to have her play, reckoning it wouldn’t be much of a Weasley World Cup if there were only two teams that didn’t change between matches. Sometimes boys were really stupid.

With the boys busy making plans for Quidditch, she was left with the more sensitive topic to deal with. As big as her mother’s were, breasts weren’t something you could ask a parent about at the dinner table, much less ask her what she could do to make them bigger. Still, Ginny thought there might be a way though, if what she thought about her mother was right at least.

With her dinner done and a plan in place, she went up to her room as everyone started to break up to do the same. She didn’t go to sleep like the others though, instead she waited in her dark room until she was sure everyone else was asleep and snuck her way back down to the living room in the middle of the night.

It was hard to find what she wanted in the darkness but eventually she found the bookshelves. Her mother may know everything when it came to homemaking and child-rearing and the like, but even she had to learn it from somewhere. She had just gotten her eyes used to the darkness enough so that she could squint and begin making out the words on book bindings when she heard a faint creak behind her.

Spinning around, Ginny saw a light coming down the stairs! Dropping down low, she scurried into a dark corner beside the couch to try and hide from her mother as the light came closer and closer. In the stillness of the quiet house every muffled step loomed large, and as the living room lightened Ginny couldn’t help but peek over the arm of the couch to see her approach.

Strangely, it wasn’t her mother. It was her brothers: Fred and George.

‘What are they doing at this time of night?’ she thought as the hid in her corner as they slunk through the living room. ‘And how are they doing magic outside of school?’

No matter how rebellious and prone to pranks they were Ginny didn’t think even they would get away with something like that. Her mum and dad – and everyone else, really – they all said the Ministry would know in a heartbeat if you did magic at home. Then you’d get a warning and… Well, she didn’t know what. But still, Ginny didn’t know why nothing was happening, unless–

‘They’re lying,’ she thought wondrously. ‘The Ministry can’t tell when you’re doing magic at all. Hogwarts just lets us think they can!’ Ginny had to give it to them, making the whole country think something was true when it wasn’t was a pretty good prank, and it said a lot about the twins that they could see through it. ‘Then again,’ she thought, ‘Dad might’ve told them by accident.

Fred and George made their way through the dining room and into the kitchen. Curious about what they were up to, Ginny crawled after them. Making sure to stay low, she found another hiding place on the far side of the table where she could see what they were doing by peeking through the forest of chair legs. They had what she had always thought was a blank wooden panel standing open when she arrived and something about her passage must’ve caught their attention because they quickly closed it again and cut off their light as the nearest one turned back to look for intruders.

Time passed in silence as the three of them sat there in darkness, each of them barely breathing. Finally, the one who’d went to check the living room lit their wand for one good look before he returned to the other. With a few taps of a wand the other twin, who Ginny thought was George, had the panel open again.

She looked on but whatever the twins were doing, they were doing it in whispers. Ginny did manage to catch a few words through, like belladonna, bitterroot, and something that sounded like ‘alihotsy’, though she hadn’t heard of that before. Either way, she knew what they were doing now. It had become fairly commonplace for little explosions and strange smells to waft their way out of their room but she hadn’t thought her brothers had been raiding their mother’s secret stash of potion ingredients to make it happen.

Eventually the boys slunk back to their room with their ill-gotten booty, but Ginny waited a full five minutes before she moved again. When she did move though it was with a lit wand, which made scanning book titles so much easier. The things she could see were pretty much useless, just homemaking stuff like charming your own cheese, like anyone would ever need that. The book shelf was stacked three rows deep though and eventually she found what she was looking for… or so she thought.

Ginny really didn’t know what else it could be though. It was called Changing Your Body, or Your Changing Body. It was hard to tell since the wording itself kept changing around. It was exactly what she was looking for though, judging on the picture on the cover. The plain woman it showed went from being almost as flat as she was to the same girl, only with bigger breasts and hips, and finally to the same girl yet again, only this time with slightly larger breasts and very happy about being very obviously pregnant. The pregnant part would get in the way of her pursuing a Quidditch career, but the rest was exactly what she wanted.

Quickly stacking the other books back on the shelves, Ginny went into the kitchen so she could flip through the book with in a bit more safety. The book had ointments for rashes and solutions for stretchy skin, it even had shaving salves that were supposed to get rid of hair and prevent it from growing back, though why anyone would want to be bald was beyond her. Finally, she found what the front of the book had promised: a potion guaranteed to enhance her breasts.

‘While a good deal of breast development is done during puberty,’ she read as she skimmed the introductory paragraph, ‘a woman’s breasts won’t actually fully develop until after pregnancy. The ‘Mother Knows Breast’ Potion will give you the enhancement you’re looking for, without the complications of pregnancy.

Ginny skipped the rest to get to the potion itself. Most of the ingredients looked to be same that came in their potions kit for school but there was one or two she knew she didn’t have. Luckily, she knew another place to look and a few taps on a certain panel got her everything she’d need.

‘This is going to be a great summer,’ Ginny thought as she crept back to her room with a smile on her face. Harry wasn’t going to know what hit him.