by Harry Potter
“You know, I’ll have to find a ritual that has you give me pleasure,” stated Hermione as she stood up.
Harry closed his eyes and imagined a snake before saying in Parsletongue, “I thought I already found one?”
Hermione shivered at Harry’s hissing words. She composed herself and conceded, “Well, there is that one.”
Harry held out his hand and Hermione took it. But before they could head off to a secluded area, Hedwig flew into the Great Hall.
“Oh, here comes Luna’s reply,” Hermione said as Hedwig landed in front of Harry. “Do you mind if we read this before we do the ritual?”
“No... not at all,” Harry responded, forcing the little voice in his head that demanded “HAND- JOB NOW!” to the back of his mind. “Knowing Ron, he’ll be on the Firebolt until dinner.”
Hermione smiled at Harry and removed the post from Hedwig’s leg and read aloud.
“Dear Hermione,
I would so love to meet with you. I will be at my father’s printing press shop (the barn behind our house) later today. Please stop by whenever you can. Just use the floo and say The Quibbler.
Luna”
“That’s great,” announced Harry. “We’ll head there right after the han... ritual,” Harry had to fight to say “ritual” instead of “hand-job.”
“I’m certain all you care about is using the ritual to locate the Horcruxes,” joked Hermione. It was obvious that she knew what Harry’s slip truly meant.
“Of course I am,” Harry said. “If there was another way to find the locations of the Horcruxes besides the han... the ritual, I would do it.”
“That’s good, because I found another ritual the other day that doesn’t require us to get naked or even touch each other. It was in an innocent book in the library,” Hermione said and began to stroll out of the Great Hall.
It was like someone had slapped Harry hard in the face. Here he was, all happy about getting a hand-job, he had even devised a plan to get Ron out of the way, but now he wasn’t going to get it. Harry felt very, very sad. He looked after his girlfriend with his mouth opening and closing mutely, as he tried to force himself to tell her that he wasn’t serious about doing any other ritual besides the one that included a hand-job. But he was too sad to even speak.
“I’m just kidding, you know,” Hermione said with a naughty grin.
Harry was offended; how could she do this to him! Tempt him with a hand-job and then take it away, then to claim that she was joking. He had half a mind to give a good talking to her about teasing him...
Then, for the third time in Harry’s memory, Hermione licked her hand, and that same half of a mind that wanted to chastise her suddenly started making very faint mewing sounds.
“Here, boy, do you wanna play?” Hermione playfully asked. Apparently, she too thought that Harry had treated Ron like a dog and decided to give Harry a taste of his own medicine. “Do you want little Hermione to give you a hand-job? Do you?” she mocked.
Of course, Harry really didn’t care that his girlfriend was pretending that he was a dog. All he cared about was the offered hand-job. He skipped like a little school boy over to Hermione. She gently patted his groin with her now damp hand and said, “You do want one don’t you?”
“Damn right I do,” Harry replied with absolutely no shame.
“Have you been a good boy?” she asked. Harry detected a hint of “naughty-Hermione” in both her tone and her eyes, so he figured that he would reply in a manner that “naughty-Hermione” should appreciate.
“Hell no,” he breathed. “I’ve been bad.”
“Really? Just how bad?” Hermione inquired and began to rub ‘Harry, Jr.’ through his trousers.
“V-v-very,” Harry answered while simultaneously gulping and squeaking.
Hermione got up on her toes and took Harry’s lower lip between her teeth and growled as she playfully tugged at his mouth and gave his crotch a proper squeeze. ‘Harry, Jr.’ sprang to life and begged Harry to do the han... the ritual right there at the Gryffindor table so that it could play right now.
Stroking his length through his trousers, Hermione let go of Harry’s lip and purred; “You are a bad boy, aren’t you?” The mixed look of love, lust, and desire in her eyes made Harry almost climax right there in his boxers.
Harry considered agreeing to ‘Harry, Jr.’ and do the han... the ritual right at the Gryffindor table, but he realized that even though Ron was preoccupied, many other people could walk in on them (including McGonagall, who had already witnessed the pre-show a few days before due to Hermione’s behavior under the effects of the super-Cheering Charm). So Harry had to force himself to wait just a little longer for the han... the ritual. But that didn’t mean he had to walk slowly to his room. No, he had every intention of grabbing Hermione’s hand and running, much like Ron had, out of the Great Hall. Though he planned on not tripping as much as Ron did.
The fully aroused wizard grabbed the naughty witch’s hand (her free one mind you; the one rubbing ‘Harry, Jr.’ could stay right where it was) and turned to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. The pressure in his trousers and the need to have Hermione’s hands on his naked flesh was intense that he didn’t think he could wait for the time it took to make it to the Common Room; so he opted to head toward a nearby broom closet.
Readying himself for his run, Harry took two steps and stopped when he saw a flock of owls fly in. Nearly a dozen owls, all different shapes, sizes, and colors swooped in and landed all around Harry and Hermione (except for one; one of the smallest owls Harry had ever seen - even smaller than Pigwidgeon - landed on his trouser-encased erect organ like a perch). This was not the time to have a bunch of owls land around Harry; he needed to get the han... the ritual. Not that he cared about finding the Horcruxes. To hell with that! He wanted to cum... and hopefully it wouldn’t get in Hermione’s eyes this time. Harry was about to jump over the ring of birds (and knock the one off of ‘Harry, Jr.’) and drag Hermione behind him when all the owls stuck a leg out at Harry; offering him the different posts. Every one of the envelopes and scrolls was addressed to him.
“What the hell?” Harry asked no one in particular. He had never gotten this much post at one time in his whole life and here was ten letters just for him. Each one was written in a different hand, two or three looked feminine while the others were definitely masculine. Hermione reached for the post attached to the small owl on Harry (after she retrieved the letter, she shooed the bird off of Harry’s organ and he could’ve sworn he heard his girlfriend mutter to the owl “Get off of that; it’s mine!”). She unfolded the letter, which Harry assumed was from a woman judging by the style of the handwriting, and began to read aloud;
“My Lovely Potter,
I went there to kill you, for your actions against my lord and master. I had hated you but you showed me nothing but love. When I’m released from this prison, I shall find you and repay you with the most tender and loving of kisses.
With eternal Love;
Persephone Cucumber-Smythe”
“What the hell is this?” Hermione exclaimed and tossed the paper away. “It’s a love letter.”
“So?” replied Harry. He wasn’t really paying attention to the letters; no, his main focus was the soon to be occurring han... ritual.
“It’s a love letter from one of the Death Eaters who attacked us,” explained Hermione as she reached down and grabbed another post. This one was obviously written by a man. It was still elegantly written, but it definitely lacked the woman’s touch;
“Dearest Potter,
I know you only have eyes for Draco...” Hermione began to read aloud.
“Hey!” objected Harry.
“...but perhaps, just maybe, you’ll be able to find a place in your heart for another dark wizard.
I want to feel your breath on my-”
Then Hermione abruptly stopped, turned very pale, and silently crumpled the parchment up. Harry had no idea what the next word in the lett
er was but he knew by Hermione’s reaction that it was bad. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was also starting to get scared; that is to say the raging hard-on that had been threatening to rip Harry’s trousers open subsided slightly.
But curiosity got the better of our hero and Harry grabbed another post. This time, Harry could tell it was from a rather uneducated man because, whereas the previous letters were written with elegant joined letters, this one was written by an obvious brute of a man. It looked like he had held the quill in his fist much like a toddler would hold a crayon. With more than a little difficulty, Harry was able to read it;
“Potter,
I want to plow into you bum. Make you my wizard.
Edgars.”
Harry dropped the offending piece of parchment and completely lost the last remains of his erection. “How... what... why... to me?” Harry babbled incoherently.
“It must be your love-based magic,” stated a still pale faced Hermione. “When you hit them with your super-Stunner, they must’ve felt love, just like Ron said.”
Bile crept up Harry’s throat; he had no idea that his powers could affect people in such a way. Would every single Death Eater that Harry fought fall in love with him? If so, how could he fight his enemies without them coming on to him later? Those thoughts made his head spin and his body cold. He felt as if he was about to faint - he’d been doing that a lot lately.
But, the moment that Harry started to get tunnel vision, the posts began to change color. They changed from their off-white parchment to the familiar bright red of a Howler. Faster than Harry could react, all the now red posts blew up and the thunderous laughter of two people filled the Great Hall. While Hermione and Harry vainly tried to block out the loud laughter, Harry was able to recognize one of the two voices emanating from the Howlers. He wasn’t able to recognize the male at first, but he was able to guess to whom it belonged if only because he could tell that the female voice belonged to a certain pink haired witch.
“Remus and Tonks,” Harry growled.
The laughter ended and the male voice started to speak;
“I wish I could be there to see the look on you face Harry,” Remus Lupin’s voice sounded. “I’m sure it’s very similar to the way Hermione looked when she read that pamphlet at the reception.”
“Love power,” Tonks snorted in the background. Harry suddenly remembered that she had been in McGonagall’s office the day before. She must have overheard their discussion on whether or not the Death Eaters that Harry had stunned had felt love.
“Now, we’ll be waiting for your retaliation,” taunted Remus’ voice. “But I’ll have to warn you; the two of you - or three if you include Ron - will have to step it up and come up with a better idea than ‘let’s spike their tea’. I’m a Marauder after all.”
And with that, the voice of Remus and the laughter of Tonks ended.
Harry could feel a vein in his temple throb with rage and he could see Hermione’s eye twitch angrily. It was bad enough that Remus and Tonks had made him think that a number of burly Death Eaters wanted to bugger him, but what really bothered him was that there would be no way now that Hermione was going to be in the mood to give Harry a hand-job. She was obviously too angry to do it anymore (Harry was upset as well, but he was a teenaged wizard and he, by nature of being a teenaged wizard, was always up for any form of activity where he got to be nude with his girlfriend, regardless of his mood). So, not only did Remus and Tonks make him believe that he would lose his virtue to a big, hairy Death Eater (other than Bellatrix), they, and this was the most important fact in Harry’s mind, took away an opportunity for a hand-job.
For that, they would pay!
***
Having lost the desire to give ‘Harry, Jr.’ a nice long handshake, Hermione suggested that she and Harry go to Luna’s and see if she’d be willing to go on a date with Ron. As Harry and Hermione made their way to the Headmistress’ office to use the floo, a thought occurred to Harry. He found it very ironic that he and his girlfriend were trying to hook Ron up on a date with Luna when he and Hermione had never actually gone on a date themselves. He voiced his observations to Hermione who paused.
“Well then we’ll just have to treat this as a double date,” Hermione concluded after a second of thinking. “A first date for both couples.”
Hermione walked up the moving staircase and entered the office with Harry right behind her. She moved to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in. After stepping in, she announced “The Quibbler!” and disappeared.
Harry followed Hermione through the floo... and promptly crashed onto the floor. Hermione had learned from Ron’s mistake of trying to catch Harry and had wisely decided to step out of Harry’s path.
“Hullo,” Luna greeted them while Harry stood and brushed the soot off of his robes. “Welcome to the Quibbler.”
“Hello Luna,” both Harry and Hermione returned the greeting.
“I’m sorry I can’t show you the printing press at work,” Luna said and gestured to a large contraption behind her that had a number of bells and whistles on it - literally. The press had dozens of bells of various sizes and several steam whistles, whatever purposes they served, Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But Daddy and Neville are off on a fact finding mission in Burma, and the press is down until they come back.”
“Your father and Neville?” Harry asked with a bit of apprehension. He remembered that Luna and Neville had spent a good amount of time together last year. Harry was now wondering just how close the two of them had gotten.
“Oh yes,” Luna glowed. “Neville’s so knowledgeable about plants. He went along to find out what kinds of vegetation Snorkacks eat.”
“Really?” Hermione asked with fake sincerity. She, too, just realized that their plan to get Luna to date Ron may be moot, because it was starting to look like she was already with Neville. “Um... tell me, Luna, um... are you, well, seeing anyone?” Hermione asked nervously.
Luna stared at Hermione with her big blue eyes for a full second then blinked slowly and stared at her again for another two seconds before she answered. “I’m sorry, Hermione, but I’m not a lesbian,” Luna said. Harry and Hermione stared at the blonde witch in shock. Apparently, Luna misinterpreted Hermione’s question as a come on; Luna thought that Hermione was hitting on her. “But if I did play for the other team, you’d be the third or fourth witch I’d want to bed,” Luna concluded.
“That’s not what I meant,” Hermione blurted out, her shock apparent on her face. But then, as if someone had flicked a switch, Hermione’s expression changed from shock to outrage. “‘Third or fourth’?” Hermione screeched in offence. She began to examine herself as if there was something wrong with the way she looked. Harry could’ve told her that wasn’t the case, seeing as she was absolutely perfect in his eyes. “It’s my tits, isn’t it?” she asked nervously. “They’re too small...”
“Personally, I love them,” Harry whispered in her ear. He was very tempted to show her how much he loved her boobs right then and there in front of Luna by giving them a squeeze.
“I figure that if I were gay, I’d be a big butch fan,” admitted Luna. “I’d reckon that mullets would be attractive.” After a moment of internal musing, Luna concluded, “Yes, I imagine that if I were indeed gay, that my lovers would have to have mullets; it’s such a unique hairstyle after all.”
Hermione pouted and Harry wondered who the two or three other witches were that Luna had placed before Hermione.
“You misunderstood me,” Hermione began again, forcing herself past the awkward situation and to focus on the task at hand. “I was wondering if you and Neville were an item.”
“No,” Luna replied simply and continued to stare at Hermione for a good three seconds before continuing. “But why would you like to know that? Oh, you want to set me up for a date. Did you want to set me up on a date with Harry?” she asked as if Harry wasn’t standing right behind Hermione.
“No,” Hermione said defensively, p
lacing her hand on Harry’s hip as if to say he was her property - which was the case. “We were wondering if you would be interested in going on a date with Ron.”
Harry could tell that Luna was in fact very interested. Her entire face lit up, a cute little smile graced her lips, and her eyes twinkled. She shyly pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and said, “Yes, I would like that. Very much.”
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Hermione. “Would you mind if Harry and I go on a double date with the two of you? It’ll be the first date for all of us.”
“That would be nice,” Luna said with a glow to her cheeks.
“Now, I have to warn you,” Hermione stated. “Ron has had some problems lately...”
“What kind of problems?” Luna asked with genuine concern.
“Scary girl problems,” Harry said cryptically and shuddered at the memory of Bellatrix’s incredibly hairiness, the off handed comment Mrs. Weasley made regarding how to aim, and the nude wrestling match featuring his sister, Gin Gin the Erection Killer.
“Oh,” the blonde witch muttered.
“But I have a plan that’ll help Ron forget his problems,” Hermione added. “We just wanted you to know, in case he acts a little strange at first.”
“I happen to like strange,” Luna said and her cute little smile grew.
“How about meeting at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow night, around five in the evening?” suggested Hermione.
“I’ll see you then,” Luna said and skipped away happily.
***
The next day, Hermione had shut herself in her room for the better part of the morning and afternoon. While Harry and Ron passed the time with a brutal game of chess (brutal for Harry that is) a pungent smell wafted down from the girl’s wing.
“What’s she doing up there?” inquired Ron after his Queen decided to show how superior it was by violating one of Harry’s Knights instead of simply smashing it. As the horse-piece whinnied in abject submission (and a little fear), Harry idly thought that Ron’s Queen must have believed herself to be Catherine the Great.