by Harry Potter
“Tell me about it,” agreed Harry as he unsuccessfully tried to repress a shudder.
“Hey, I’m standing right here!” Ginny shouted.
“But that doesn’t matter,” Ron continued, obviously getting over his shock of finally noticing that Harry and Ginny’s relationship was sick and twistedly wrong. “Hermione’s still my girl!”
“How can that be Ron?” asked Harry. “You find her boring and a nag. She finds you lazy and pig-headed. She loves to learn and read; the last thing you read that wasn’t assigned to read for a class was a Quidditch Playbook. Even then you didn’t really read it, you merely looked at the pictures. The only thing you two have in common is your constant bickering!”
“But isn’t squabbling a sign of a good relationship?” Ron asked.
“Sure it is,” replied Harry, dripping in scorn. “In poorly written Muggle comedic films - not in real life! In real life, at best it’s a sign of an impending break-up. At worst, it’s nothing more than emotional abuse. Because of the arguments you both have, it’s obvious you two don’t respect each other. Damn it, respect is the best foundation for a good relationship, not fighting! Hermione and I respect each other. We also have more in common than you ever did with her.”
“But that isn’t fair,” Ron continued. “You get everything, Harry! Fame, fortune, and now you want the girl, too?”
“Wait a tic,” interrupted Harry, his anger growing. “Do I have to point out to you that the only reason I have ‘fame and fortune’ is because a very mean man murdered my family simply because he was trying to kill me?”
“Oh, well, yeah, but...” Ron answered dumbly. “You’ve got me there...”
“And do I also have to point out that because of that ‘killing my family’ thing I grew up in an abusive household? And because of that ‘mean man trying to kill me’ thing, I’ve been pursued and attacked by every bad guy in the British Isles?”
“But that doesn’t mean you can get the girl...”
“Yes, it does!” Harry yelled. “After all the pain and crap I’ve gone through, I deserve a little happiness! Besides, I’m the hero - that entitles me to the girl!”
“What does that make me then?” Ron spat. “The side kick?”
“Um...” Harry hesitated before answering, “...well, yeah, kind of.”
Ron bellowed out a curse and he stormed off toward the row of trees behind the Burrow.
“If you’re the ‘hero’ and Ron’s the ‘side kick’,” Ginny seethed, her anger flowing off of her skin. “What does that make me?”
“I don’t know, Ginny,” stated Harry. “Right now, based on your actions, I’d have to say you’re nothing more than a crazed stalker!”
Ginny huffed angrily and promptly followed Ron to the trees.
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley calmly said trying to diffuse the sticky situation. “I think it’s best if you leave for now. Just let them calm down for a while.”
Harry knew he was right; this was not the time to try to mend his friendship with Ron. Hopefully, he would be able to do it later.
Dejectedly, Harry headed to the Burrow where he found Tonks and Lupin waiting for him.
“Do you know where Hermione went?” asked Harry.
“She was a bit... distraught when she came in here,” Tonks stated.
“So we made her a Portkey to take her back to the Gryffindor Common Room,” Remus concluded.
Harry paused lost in his thoughts. He was torn between either running to Hermione to see if she was okay or leaving her alone for a bit so that she could think this through. He really didn’t know what to do; he had never been in a situation like this before. He knew Hermione was hurting, but he didn’t know if or how he could help her. He then thought of Remus, surely he had been through something like this. Maybe he could give Harry some advice on what to do. Harry turned to Remus, but before he could ask the older wizard for advice, Remus spoke up.
“And we happened to make a similar Portkey for you as well,” Remus said while pointing to an old shoe lying on the table next to Harry.
“Thank you,” Harry said and shook Remus’ hand.
“Good luck, Harry,” said Tonks.
Harry touched the Portkey and a second later, he crashed onto the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room. Brushing himself off as he stood up, Harry looked around the room in a fruitless attempt to find Hermione.
“Hermione!” he called out but no one answered. He then tried again, “HERMIONE!”
After a moment or two, Harry finally heard a muffled response coming from the girls’ dormitory. “Go away, Harry. I want to be left alone.”
Somehow, Harry knew that even though she had said she had wanted to be alone, she wanted desperately to be held by him. But he couldn’t go up the stairs leading to her room because of that pesky “No boys allowed” rule that the founders placed on the stairs. He knew that the moment he placed a foot on the stairs, they would magically change into a slide and an alarm would sound, making it impossible for him to climb them. So the only way Harry could get up to Hermione is if he flew.
Luckily, it only took Harry a mere three minutes to remember that he had his broom up in his room (this realization came after he had unsuccessfully tried to Transfigure himself into a bird - twice). He rushed to his room and pulled his Firebolt out of his trunk. Hopping on the broom, Harry rocketed out of his room, down the stairs, through the Common Room, and over the stairs leading to the girls’ rooms. Of course he didn’t know which room was Hermione’s because he had never been there before. So Harry listened for the muffled cries of Hermione. He heard her sobs coming from the third door on the right. Harry softly knocked on the door before entering.
He found her curled up on her bed. Hermione slowly looked up and into Harry’s face. Tears had stained her cheeks, but she had a determined look in her eyes.
“H-Harry, I don’t think we should be together any more...” Hermione forced herself to say.
“What? Why?” Harry stammered, shocked at Hermione’s revelation.
“Because I’m afraid what we... have, it isn’t real,” explained Hermione. “Ginny spiked my tea before I came to visit you the other day and I practically molested you because of it.”
“So what?” Harry retorted.
“So, the Lust Potion obviously affected me and my actions...”
“How long would the effects last?” asked Harry.
“It depends,” answered Hermione, falling back into her safe routine of being the one with the answers. “Usually only a few hours...”
“So you were under the influence of the Potion when you...” Harry began and paused slightly at the memory of Hermione giving ‘Harry, Jr.’ a hand shake. “When you jumped me?”
“Yes,” replied Hermione.
“What about later that night when we were in the library?”
“Probably not, but there is still a chance I was still under its effects.”
“Even if you were, what about later? Were you still affected by the potion when you gave me my... err... birthday present? That was two days after you got the potion.”
“That isn’t the point, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Why not?”
“Because, I wouldn’t have done that thing the first time without being under the effects of the potion,” she said and looked guiltily at her hand. “And even though the Lust Potion was out of my system after that, I don’t think I would’ve done those... things with you if I hadn’t... molested you first.”
“So what you’re saying is that Ginny unintentionally got us together.” Harry surmised.
“Yes... what... no?” responded Hermione, obviously confused with Harry’s train of thought.
“Listen,” Harry began and he walked over to where Hermione was still laying. “Ginny gave you that potion so you’d relax your inhibitions and get together with Ron. But before its effects kicked in, I had Owled you for help. You came over to help me, so the effects of the potion kicked in when you and I were
talking.”
“Yes, that’s my point!” Hermione announced.
“Let me ask you a question,” Harry continued. “If I hadn’t Owled you, and you ended up doing... things with Ron, would you have continued to be intimate with him after the potion wore off?”
“It’s impossible to say now,” answered Hermione. “I can’t tell you what I would’ve done if the situation was different.”
“Yes, you can,” Harry interrupted. “Do you honestly believe that you would’ve stayed with Ron, bearing in mind that you two argue constantly and have absolutely nothing in common?
“No, probably not,” Hermione replied honestly.
“And yet you’ve stayed with me,” Harry continued. “Why is that?”
Hermione hesitated as she looked deep into Harry’s eyes, obviously afraid to answer.
“Let me tell you why,” Harry stated. “It’s because you and I have something special, something that goes beyond lust. Remember, according to Slughorn, the potion only lowered your inhibitions. It wouldn’t have made you do anything that you weren’t already wanting, if only subconsciously wanting it. If you had felt nothing for me, there’s no way Ginny’s Lust Potion would have created these feelings. The end result is just that you acted on your impulses rather than trying to make up excuses as to why you shouldn’t have done anything. And I thank God that you did make that first move; I was too afraid of scaring you away. I wouldn’t be the same person if you weren’t there for me. And I don’t think I ever want to try not having you with me.”
Taking her hands in his, Harry gently guided Hermione off the bed so that she was standing in front of her. Harry let go of her hands and softly cupped her face in his hands.
“I can honestly say Hermione,” Harry began and leaned in close to her so that his mouth hovered over her delicate lips, “that I am deeply and sincerely in love with you.”
Harry let Hermione gasp in surprise before sealing his lips over hers. He poured all of his love, all of his being, into the kiss. He had hoped it was the type of kiss that would make Hermione’s toes curl. Apparently, Harry’s tactic had worked because Hermione moaned into his mouth and she threw her arms around his neck. His hands slid from her face, his left arm wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him. He ran his right hand through her hair so that he could cradle her head.
After what seemed like hours, the two pulled away from each others’ mouths and rested their foreheads against one another.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “How could I have doubted what we have?”
“Just don’t let it happen again, love.” Harry said, attempting at injecting a touch of humor.
“I love you too Harry,” breathed Hermione. “And I love your hands on my bottom,” Hermione giggled. She said the word “bottom” like it was a dirty naughty thing that deserved to be spanked. Harry thought it was a request for him to squeeze her bum, but before he could comply, he was stopped when Hermione literarily purred and said, “Yes, just like that. Do it again, Harry.”
‘Again?’ This puzzled the young wizard, since his hands were nowhere near her bum. In fact, his left arm was still wrapped around her body and his right was somewhat tangled in her bushy hair. Harry looked down at Hermione’s backside (something that he discovered that he enjoyed doing) and saw that an old, wrinkly, and somewhat transparent hand was firmly attached to his girlfriend’s bum. Harry’s eyes slowly followed up the transparent arm and into the smiling face of Godric Gryffindor.
“What Cheer, Harry?” the ghost greeted Harry and promptly gave another squeeze to Hermione’s pert bottom. “Thought you needed a hand.” Chapter Six Summary: The Scavenger Hunt... err... the search for the Horcruxes begins! In order to locate the Horcruxes, Harry and Hermione use their inner-eye, that and Hermione gets something in her eye.
An ungodly scream erupted from Hermione as she discovered that it wasn’t Harry fondling her arse, but instead, the ghost of Godric Gryffindor. In a combination of disgust and panic, Hermione tried to flee from the ancient and lecherous ghost. Unfortunately for Hermione’s impromptu escape plan, Harry’s right hand was still tangled in her bushy hair which forced her to unwillingly attempt to drag him along with her. More unfortunately though, Harry was much heavier than she was. With a resounding crash, Harry and Hermione crumpled to the floor. The couple landed in an unnatural and uncomfortable pile, with Harry on top of Hermione. Thankfully though, this led to Harry’s hand becoming untangled from her hair.
“Ooh,” Gryffindor exclaimed. “That had to hurt.”
Groaning, Hermione tried to wriggle free from Harry’s body and tangled limbs. However, she did a little too good of a job wriggling. Because of their awkward positions and that pesky thing called gravity, Harry’s crotch was firmly pressed against Hermione’s shapely bottom. Hermione’s squirming motions caused ‘Harry, Jr.’ to wake up, and very quickly at that. Hermione obviously felt Harry poking her in the bum, for she growled, “Not now, Harry!”
Harry didn’t care about the uncomfortable position they were in or even the fact that Gryffindor was watching them. All Harry wanted at that moment in time was for Hermione to wriggle her bum against ‘Harry, Jr.’ some more. He loved how it felt to have ‘Harry, Jr.’ pressed in-between Hermione’s cheeks.
“Harry!” barked Hermione.
Harry begrudgingly obliged and untangled himself from Hermione’s body. Realizing that he needed to get back on Hermione’s good side, he gallantly assisted her in regaining her feet. The now-erect... um, upright couple glared at the ghost. Hermione took a deep breath and was about to verbally attack Gryffindor when the ghost pointed at Harry’s groin and declared, “You are a true Gryffindor. You ‘dress right,’ just like me!”
“Why are you here?” Hermione demanded, ignoring Gryffindor’s comment on Harry’s state.
“I was checking up on your search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes,” explained the ghost. “So, how’s it going?”
“If you must know, we haven’t begun yet,” said Hermione.
“Why not?” questioned Godric.
“We were working on a plan for when Harry faces Voldemort,” Hermione answered. “Voldemort has decades of experience more than Harry does. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Voldemort has gone through power-boosting rituals as well. Harry has to train, to learn more skills and somehow become more powerful. Otherwise he won’t stand a chance. It won’t matter if Harry has destroyed all of the Horcruxes if he can’t defeat Voldemort.”
“You think too much,” retorted Gryffindor.
“Oh, what would you suggest we do then?” Harry asked, finally joining the argument.
“It’s not really difficult. You sneak up behind him and stab him with the sword,” exclaimed Godric.
“Oh,” said Harry, taken back a bit at the simplicity of the plan.
“It’s not that easy,” argued Hermione. “How would Harry get past all of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, and any defensive wards he may have around him, and still be able to sneak up on him?”
“Easy,” replied the ghost. “You flash ‘em your titties.” The ghost then lowered his head so that his eyes were level with ‘Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ and said, “Alright, whip ‘em out and lets see if they are ‘distraction’ worthy.”
“You disgusting...” Hermione seethed, as she defensively crossed her arms over her chest.
“Alright, I can tell I’ve upset you,” Gryffindor apologized. “So I reckon we need to compromise with each other. To make it easier on you, you’ll only have to show me one of your boobs then. Alright? Let’s see the right one.”
“Get out!” Hermione commanded, pointing to the door. With a disappointed huff, the specter marched to the door.
“Fine, but you two better get cracking,” began Gryffindor and he stepped out into the hall. “People are getting hurt out there. And according to the prophesy, Harry’s the only one who can defeat Voldemort.”
“He’s right you know,” sighed Hermione.
Harry was stunned: she agreed with Gryffindor’s plan? Harry imagined Hermione standing on a hill in front of Voldemort with her blouse open and jiggling her lovely boobs at the snake-like villain. Now, Harry rather liked Hermione’s boobs, and he could easily get distracted by them himself, but he doubted that Voldemort would have the same problem. After all, there weren’t all that many female Death Eaters, were there? Which might lead some people to question Voldemort’s “orientation”? He did exclusively hang around Wormtail for a year, and people do have needs. Harry just hoped that he’d never have to find out what Voldemort and Wormtail did for that year to pass the time.
“People are getting hurt,” Hermione concluded.
“Oh, that,” Harry said aloud. A part of him was upset that she wasn’t talking about flashing her boobs.
“We still need advanced training, but we can search for the Horcruxes at the same time,” Hermione announced. She abruptly changed subjects by ordering, “Now give me the book.”
“Um... book? What book do you mean?” asked Harry, attempting to play ignorant, even though he knew she was referring to his ‘special book.’
“I assume it’s in your room,” stated Hermione, not falling for Harry’s weak ploy.
Harry gave up and nodded his head. Hopping on his Firebolt, Harry hovered next to Hermione as they left her room and headed to his. As soon as the pair reached his room, Harry retrieved the book from his trunk and reluctantly handed it to Hermione.
“The Magic of Making Love: By Thos. Antric,” Hermione read aloud. “Is this a joke? ‘Thomas Antric’?” she asked rhetorically. “A man named ‘T. Antric’ wrote a book on Tantric Magic?”
“What’s the big deal? I don’t get it,” Harry responded to Hermione’s question, not realizing it was rhetorical.
“Tantric Magic is magic through sex; this book is about magic and sex. The author’s name is obviously meant to be a humorous pseudonym.”