J K Rowling - [Harry Potter 0X]

by Harry Potter

  “So, as you can see, this could be a trap,” Harry concluded and pointed to Draco’s unconscious form once more.

  Hermione blinked slowly as she obviously tried to catch up with Harry’s train of thought. It was clear by the expression on her face that she hadn’t realized, until Harry pointed it out, that the person who came up with the plan to attack Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore had the mental equivalent of a twelve year old on a sugar high. Either that or her expression meant she got a headache from trying to keep up with Harry’s explanation.

  “Okay, how about we Portkey him to the Ministry and let them deal with him,” Hermione offered.

  After nodding in agreement, Harry tugged off one of Draco’s shoes and placed it near the blond wizard’s hand. Hermione tapped it with her wand while incanting “Portus.”

  After the shoe had been transformed into a Portkey, Harry lifted Draco’s limp hand and dropped it on the Portkey. With a pop, Draco vanished from sight.

  “Maybe we should’ve tested how powerful you are now on him,” offered Harry. “You know, a Blasting Hex or two just to see if the ritual worked or not.”

  “Although that is a good idea and I’d love to get a chance to hurt the bastard; he deserves it how he gloated over Cedric’s death and what he did to Katie and Madam Rosmerta last year,” Hermione said. “I want him to be awake so he knows that it’s a ‘Mudblood’ kicking his bigoted butt.”

  Now that that was out of the way, the two lovers continued their way to the castle.

  They quickly went to the Headmistress’ office and knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” McGonagall called out. When Harry followed Hermione into the room, he was relieved that McGonagall was alone. The conversation was going to be hard enough without an audience.

  “Um, Professor... I...” Hermione stammered. It was obvious that she was nervous and was trying to find a more polite way of saying “Harry shagged my eyes green” to their stern Headmistress.

  But before Hermione could continue, McGonagall demanded, “Miss Granger, what happened to your eyes?”

  What followed was a very awkward conversation where Harry and Hermione informed McGonagall about the power boosting ritual - but Hermione was the one who did most of the talking because Harry still couldn’t bring himself to discuss sex in front of McGonagall. Hermione kept stammering and using vague innuendoes such as “my first blossom.” Even though Harry knew what Hermione was describing, he had difficulty following her.

  “You performed the Maidenhead Ritual,” McGonagall commented, effectively ending Hermione’s awkward description.

  “You know of it?” Hermione asked.

  “Yes, it is somewhat uncommon, but some witches still do it,” McGonagall replied. “I did it myself,” she added with one of her saucy grins. Harry quickly blocked out the image of the Headmistress’ first time. That was something he didn’t want to see.

  “But that doesn’t explain why your eyes are green,” McGonagall stated.

  “I think it has something to do with Harry,” Hermione speculated. “He’s rather... powerful.”

  McGonagall mulled over Hermione’s theory for a moment. The Headmistress turned to Dumbledore’s painting and asked, “Albus, what are your thoughts?”

  “I once heard of an American mage who theorized that pure magic was always colored green,” Dumbledore mused aloud. “But I can’t seem to remember his name. I recalled that he claimed to be some sort of a reincarnation of Merlin.”

  “Wasn’t that the fellow who had no legs?” McGonagall asked. “The one whose companion had a beard and who only had that one pullover that he constantly wore and carried some kind of glowing cricket bat all the time?” (1)

  “Yes, that’s the one.”

  “I don’t know, I ever heard his name.”

  “Well perhaps we’ll discover his name at another time.” Dumbledore continued, “But coming back to the situation at hand, I’ve always believed that Harry was powerful, as Miss Granger commented, and that his power has somehow seeped into Hermione and has altered the color of her eyes.”

  Harry blushed at Dumbledore choice of words even though he doubted that the venerable Headmaster had intended the word “seeped” to have such a double meaning.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Hermione agreed with Dumbledore. “Harry made a comment that my eyes were hazel ever since we’ve been together. I think his love based magic has been altering the color slowly and this ritual just accelerated that change. It’s probably safe to assume that my eyes will be the same color as Harry’s in a short matter of time.”

  A chill ran through Harry. His love magic was changing Hermione’s eye color to match his. Did that mean that his magic was changing Hermione into a copy of him? Would Hermione slowly turn into a copy of Harry? That was something Harry did not like in the slightest. If Hermione turned into him, she’d loose her boobs, and Harry enjoyed playing with her breasts too much for that to happen. And Harry couldn’t bear the thought of Hermione’s flower turning into a replica of ‘Harry, Jr.’

  “They do say that the eyes are the windows to the soul,” stated Dumbledore. “Harry’s love has touched your soul and it is showing that love in your eyes. Besides, I doubt that any other features will change, Miss Granger.”

  “How can you be sure, sir?” Hermione asked.

  “Because, Harry is controlling the change - on a subconscious level of course,” Dumbledore replied. “And I can safely assume that Harry doesn’t want the rest of you to change.”

  Both Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. They bid McGonagall and Dumbledore goodbye and left. But before they exited the office, Hermione turned and spoke to the Headmistress.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Professor,” Hermione began. “When Harry and I were walking on the school grounds, we found Draco Malfoy.”

  “Malfoy?” McGonagall shouted. “What the hell was he doing here?”

  “We don’t know,” Hermione replied. “He was unconscious. It was obvious that he was badly beaten and it looked like he had been in the Forbidden Forest for a few days. We created a Portkey and sent him to the Ministry.”

  “Why didn’t you come and get me?” McGonagall asked.

  “We thought it was a trap,” Harry supplied.

  “Good point,” McGonagall agreed. “If it was, they’d never expect that we’d just send him to the Ministry without healing his wounds first.”

  Harry was quite glad that McGonagall agreed with him. He didn’t want to repeat the same argument he had given Hermione earlier; just thinking of the overly contrived attack plan gave him a headache. Harry and Hermione said goodbye again and left the office.

  As Harry and Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room, they discussed Dumbledore’s revelation.

  “That was really nice what Dumbledore said about you power,” said Hermione with a bloom to her cheeks. “How you’ve touched my soul.”

  “Oh, I thought you were talking about when he said my love ‘seeped’ into you.” Harry said with a wry grin.

  “Harry James Potter,” scolded Hermione. “You have a dirty mind!”

  “It was funny,” Harry defended.

  After a moment, Hermione snorted “Well, there was a bit of seeping. But a quick Cleaning Charm took care of that.”

  The two shared a laugh at their naughty joke as they entered the Common Room. They flopped on the couch and held each other as they chuckled. Harry stopped laughing suddenly when he saw a crest-fallen Ron stumble into the Common Room.

  “Ron, are you okay?” Hermione asked after she regained her composure.

  Ron mumbled a response and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Ronald, carry me in,” Luna’s voice requested from the hallway. “It’s tradition.”

  The red haired wizard turned and walked out in the hallway. He returned a second later carrying Luna in his arms. It was fairly obvious what Ron and Luna had done judging by the way he was carrying her.

  “Ron, you didn’t,�
�� Hermione gasped. The defeated look on Ron’s face compared to the happy and glowing look on Luna’s informed both Harry and Hermione that they in fact did.

  “It wasn’t my choice,” he argued. “Mum made me do it.”

  “What do you mean?” Hermione demanded.

  “It’s an old magical tradition,” Ron began. “If two people have any type of sex; even if it’s just a blow-job or a hand-job, the parents can force the two to marry.”

  Both Harry and Hermione shared a worried look. Harry wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying Hermione, but the concept of being forced to do so was distasteful. When he married her, it would be on their terms, no on else’s. He could tell that Hermione was thinking the same thing.

  After setting Luna down, Ron sat on the couch and was lost in his thoughts. Luna eyed Harry and Hermione inquisitively before saying, “I wouldn’t worry you two; it’s only a pure-blood tradition. It was a way some families made sure their line remained pure. Besides, even if you two were pure-bloods, the tradition clearly states that at least one parent from each side must agree. Seeing that Harry’s mother and father are beyond the veil, they can’t really agree now can they?”

  A wave of relief passed over Harry and he saw his girlfriend visibly relax. Luna walked up and hugged Hermione comfortingly and said, “Congratulations on consummating your relationship.”

  Hermione’s eyes bulged in surprise at Luna’s comment.

  “Did you enjoy the sex?” Luna asked and then added, “That was directed at you Hermione, since I know Harry enjoyed it. He’s a bloke so it’s obvious that he liked it.”

  “Um... how’d you know?” Harry asked nervously.

  “What kind of silly comment is that? I’ve known you’re a man for a while Harry,” Luna replied.

  “No, no, how did you know about us making love?” Hermione corrected.

  “It was clear the way you two reacted when you thought that you would be forced to marry now,” Luna answered.

  “It’s about time, if you ask me,” Ron commented dispassionately.

  “So, how was the sex?” Luna repeated.

  “It was nice, but a touch awkward,” Hermione replied softly.

  “You should’ve done what Ronald and I did when we first made love,” Luna offered. “When you do it five consecutive times, you get past the awkwardness rather fast.”

  “Five times, I thought it was six?” Harry asked.

  “Harry, please keep up,” Luna spoke as if she was speaking with a child. “Hermione and I are discussing intercourse. Ronald and I made love a total of five times - including the accidental sodomy. Yes, Ronald did ejaculate six times, but the first time was in my hand, and that’s not true intercourse,” Luna paused and caressed her husband’s face while commenting softly, “My virile man.”

  Now that his concern was lifted, Harry turned his attention back to Ron. The red-haired wizard was so sullen looking that Harry thought he was going to cry. Harry didn’t know if he’d be able to handle being forced to marry Hermione like Ron was forced to do with Luna. Then it dawned on Harry; yes, he wanted to be married to Hermione on their own terms, but the idea of being married to her was actually very heart lifting. Harry realized that Ron should be happy. Even though it wasn’t his idea, Ron was married to a wonderful witch whom he loved and she loved him right back. In all honesty, Ron was overreacting. Harry was about to point this out to Ron when a sudden thought occurred to Harry; he hadn’t been invited to his best mate’s wedding.

  “Why the hell wasn’t I invited to your wedding?” Harry asked Ron in a jovial way. “I’m your best mate; I should’ve been your Best Wizard!”

  “What about me?” Hermione added in an equally humorous way. “I was the one who introduced the couple. I should have been at least invited.”

  “This isn’t funny you two,” Ron snapped. “I’m married.”

  “Actually, it is kind of funny,” Luna said dreamily. Where Ron was upset and in shock over the marriage, Luna was taking her new marital status in her usual easy going manner.

  “Why did Molly force you two to marry?” Hermione asked.

  “My father made us as well, don’t forget,” Luna informed and plopped down next to her husband.

  “I never met your dad, but I thought Molly wouldn’t hold to such an archaic pure-blood tradition? Why would your mum even consider doing such a thing?” Harry asked. He always thought that the Weasleys didn’t hold themselves to such beliefs.

  “I think Molly was just upset her son had his way with me,” Luna answered.

  “So, you’re saying that if Luna just stopped at giving you a hand-job on your first date, your parents could’ve still forced you to marry?” Hermione asked.

  “Only if they found out,” Ron replied giving Harry an accusing eye. “Why’d you do that? If Mum hadn’t found out, she would have never insisted that we get married.”

  “Sorry about that,” Harry said, not really believing that an apology was necessary. For one reason, the prank he and Hermione pulled on Fred and George was perfect. And the second reason, Ron should consider himself lucky to be with Luna.

  “An interesting side note;” Luna stated. “If a pure-blood fools around with a half-blood or a Muggle-born, the tradition doesn’t apply.”

  “I can’t believe it!” Ron snapped again. “How the three of you can take this so lightly?”

  “What’s the big deal?” Harry asked Ron.

  “I’m married,” Ron answered.

  “Do you love Luna?” Hermione asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So what’s the big deal?” Harry repeated. “You’re married to a beautiful witch who you love and she loves you -”

  “And a witch who loves his penis,” Luna added. “It really is wonderful; I could play with it for hours and hours.”

  “You have,” Hermione made a comment under her breath about Ron and Luna’s day-long shag-fests.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ron admitted and his worry melted away. Luna showed her appreciation for Ron’s realization by snuggling up next to him. At first Harry was happy for his friends and was about to wish them well when he saw Luna’s hand slowly inch down toward Ron’s trousers.

  Harry took Hermione’s hand and started to make their way out of the Common Room; he was positive that Luna was going to whip out Ron’s willy and Harry had no intention of watching his two friends go at it... again. A happy groan from Ron announced that Harry’s speculation was right.

  The moment the two lovers entered the hall outside the Common Room, a number of house-elves popped out of thin air.

  “Yous be a very bad wizard!” one elf shouted at Harry in a mixture of rage and sadness.

  “The bald feline done be violated,” another added.

  “The One of the Mark do be bad,” a third wailed.

  “Yous done defiled the Great One!” an elf sobbed.

  Harry was stunned; how did they find out so soon? He turned to see if Hermione was as perplexed as he was only to find his girlfriend rolling her eyes at the house-elves comments.

  “Yous will pay, One of the Mark!” one threatened.

  “Oh, just stuff it,” Hermione shouted. “I wanted the One of the Mark to ‘violate’ the bald feline. And I’m going to do it again!”

  Harry jumped in the air triumphantly at Hermione’s declaration.

  “We’s be stopping yous then,” one house-elf said defiantly.

  “Why bother,” Hermione countered. “It’s already been done! There’s no point in stopping it now.”

  Hermione took Harry’s hand and they turned to face the Fat Lady. At first, it was Harry and Hermione’s intention to reenter the Common Room and make their way up to his room to make love. But remembering that Ron and Luna started to become intimate in the Common Room and how fast they worked, Harry imagined Ron already had his new wife bent over the couch and was taking her from behind. So obviously, going through the Common Room was out of the question.

  Harry looked aroun
d desperately for another place to be intimate. Hermione had promised another go and ‘Harry, Jr.’ was already starting to wake up. If Harry didn’t find another place, ‘Harry, Jr.’ would be quite irate.

  Thankfully, Harry saw salvation. He pointed and declared, “There!”

  “A broom cupboard?” Hermione said scandalously as she eyes the small door across the hall. “You want to shag in a broom cupboard?”

  “Everybody does it. It’s practically a Hogwarts tradition,” Harry defended. “Like house rivalry, you have to shag in a cupboard.”