7Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor

Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Seven

Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money

WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.

Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!

Chapter Seven Summary: Brainy birds are naughty!

Harry cursed at himself for his own stupidity as he dashed behind the couch where Hermione had landed. Hermione had simply wanted to see how his love based magic affected his power and Harry had complied. He concentrated on his love based magic and yet, somehow he bollixed it all up. He meant to cast a simple Cheering Charm on Hermione but instead he must have hit her with a Banishing Charm. Harry blew her off of her feet and she ended up falling behind the couch. As Harry rounded the corner of the couch in question, he expected to see the woman he loved crumpled in a heap on the floor. Bafflingly, he found nothing but the floor of the Common Room. ‘Where could she have gone?’ he thought.

Before Harry could continue his search, he heard a soft “whoosh” sound and felt a draft on ‘/Harry, Jr./’ Looking down, Harry saw that his pajama top was still on, but his pajama bottoms had mysteriously dropped down around his ankles, leaving his lower half naked and exposed.

Harry quickly bent over to re-cover himself, and to recover whatever was left of his dignity, when he felt, rather than heard, Hermione run toward him from behind. Apparently, Harry’s naked bum was too good of a target for Hermione to pass up. The wizard yelped as Hermione roughly, painfully, and quite unexpectedly smacked his left arse cheek. Before Harry could regain his wits enough to stop Hermione, she had disappeared again. He was busy rubbing his red bum when Hermione dashed out of nowhere and laid an equally painful thwack to his unprotected right cheek. Harry jumped up in pain at Hermione’s strike. Unfortunately, this jump, added with the fact that his pajama bottoms were still around his ankles, caused Harry to fall to the ground in a very unflattering position: his face was on the ground while his naked posterior was sticking up in the air. This became another opportunity that was too good for Hermione to pass up.

Harry cried out in pain as Hermione delivered powerful smacks to each of his cheeks at the same time. He finally had the common sense to roll over so that he was sitting on his now welt-covered backside. He looked up and saw Hermione swinging from the chandelier like some sort of crazed trapeze performer. How she got up there was a mystery to Harry, but the bigger mystery was how he was going to get her down. Hopefully, he could perform a levitation charm on her.

Standing holding his wand in one hand while hoisting up his bottoms, Harry was very surprised to see that Hermione had disappeared once again. He was staring at the swinging chandelier when he felt a new draft on his bits. Harry looked down to see that his pants were around his ankles again. Having learned his lesson previously, Harry decided not to temp Hermione to spank his bottom by bending over and giving her a target. He figured it be safer to use his magic to lift up his trousers. Harry had only barely pointed his wand at the fabric when he heard Hermione rushing toward him.

“Oh, shite,” Harry was able to groan out before Hermione physically tackled him by throwing her body at his back. Harry ended up on the floor in the same embarrassing position he had just gotten out of: his naked (but now red) arse sticking up in the air. This time however, Hermione was sitting on the back of his head. She was evidently pretending his backside was a set of bongos because she began to slap, smack, and spank his arse very rapidly and with increasing force.

“OW! OW! OW!” Harry cried in unison with the slaps as Hermione began to sing.

“Baba-loo!”

“OW! OW! OW!”

After several dozen paddles Hermione finally stood and commented on her work. “Wow, look at how red that is! I think it’s actually throwing off light! That is sooo cool!”

As soon as Hermione had gotten off of him, Harry once again rolled over so that he was sitting on his red and throbbing bum. Wincing slightly from the pain in his rear, Harry looked up and saw a very flushed Hermione standing him front of him. Although her eye was still red and irritated from the accidental “/ejaculate in the eye/” situation, she had a face splitting grin.

“That was fun!” Hermione declared. Harry noticed that she had very, very erect nipples; they looked as if they were going to poke holes through her blouse. “Okay, my turn!” Hermione then promptly shoved her bottom in Harry’s face and ordered “Go on, give it a good whack!”

“Hermione, I don’t -” Harry began to whine.

“Smack my arse, Potter!” Hermione commanded.

“Fine,” Harry complied and placed a gentle slap to her bottom.

“What the hell was that? Did a fly land on my bum?” Hermione mockingly asked. She lowered her slacks to reveal her milky white flesh and thin white cotton knickers to Harry. The white cotton knickers, which Harry noted, were fairly damp around Hermione’s flower. At first, Harry thought that it was just sweat, after all the witch had been running around the room. But he could have sworn he smelt the musky odor of her arousal. “When I say ‘/smack my arse/’ I mean it. Now spank me!”

“Hermione I don’t want to hurt you,” objected Harry.

“SPANK MY BOTTOM NOW!” Hermione demanded.

Spurned on by her command – and a little fearful of her wrath if he didn’t comply – Harry smacked her tender flesh with a resounding slap, his fear combined with his own sore bottom making him use a great deal more force than he intended.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes,” Hermione chanted through gritted teeth (but still grinning like a madwoman) as she hopped around Harry. “That felt sooo good!” She paused in front of Harry to lower her knickers so that her bottom was completely exposed, a sight that Harry marveled in. Right before his eyes, a hand shaped red welt rapidly developed on her naked bum. “That’s a good one, isn’t it? Now kiss it and make it better.”

Rather than argue, Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her red flesh. Her skin felt incredibly hot under his lips.

“Now rub it,” Hermione ordered.

But before Harry could happily fulfill Hermione’s wish, a soft “/ahem/” from the entrance to the Common Room drew their attention. Minerva McGonagall stood patiently by the entrance while pretending that nothing unusual was happening and she was busying herself by examining something in the corner away from Harry and Hermione.

As quickly as he could, Harry stood and pulled up his pants, covering ‘/Harry, Jr/.’. Harry turned, assuming that Hermione had done the same seeing how her bum was hanging out of her slacks. But Hermione hadn’t. In fact she wasn’t anywhere near Harry. Instead she was doing pirouettes in a circle around McGonagall like a ballerina on a sugar high. A ballerina on a sugar high who happened to have her very pretty, and very bare, arse hanging out of her slacks, mind you.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” McGonagall asked sternly as Hermione, while giggling non-stop, continued to pirouette around the Headmistress. The Headmistress scrutinized Hermione’s puffy red eye as the younger witch spun around her. “Is something wrong with your eye? Were you hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse?”

Hermione paused momentarily from her incessant spinning to answer McGonagall’s question. “Kind of, it was Harry’s own special /Cum-/junctivits Curse.” She then frantically pantomimed the cause, pointing between her eye and Harry’s crotch as if McGonagall needed a visual reference to her crude joke. Thankfully, Harry thought, judging by McGonagall’s skeptical expression, the prim Headmistress didn’t get it. At McGonagall’s questioning look, Hermione felt the need to explain her joke further. “He came in my-” Harry dashed forward and clamped his hand down on her mouth, hoping to muffle the word “eye.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” McGonagall demanded, as a grinning Hermione wrenched herself away from Harry.

“Um… we… we’re… uh experimenting…” answered Harry, ending up speaking very loudly. He had to answer loudly because the still bare-arsed Hermione was now standing on the window seat singing “/I’m a Little Teapot/” at the top of her lungs.

“I’M A LITTLE TEAPOT, SHORT AND STOUT.”

“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” stated McGonagall over Hermione’s caterwauling.

“HERE IS MY HANDLE, HERE IS MY SPOUT!”

“What was that, ma’am?” asked Harry pretending as if Hermione singing a children’s song at the top of her lungs was an everyday occurrence.

“WHEN I GET ALL STEAMED UP, HEAR ME SHOUT:”

“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” McGonagall repeated, trying her best to tune out Hermione’s less than dulcet song.

It was at this point that Hermione had decided to veer away from the traditional lyrics of “/I’m a Little Teapot/” by improvising some of her own.

“JUST PUSH ME ON THE BED AND EAT ME OUT!” Hermione also added something akin to a dance move as well; when she “/sung/” the words “… and eat me out!” she thrust her hips lewdly at Harry.

Both Harry and McGonagall stared at Hermione with stunned expressions. Ignoring the stares, Hermione hopped off of the seat and began to do wind sprints around the Room. McGonagall and Harry turned to each other and shared a look that clearly stated that neither one would ever mention Hermione’s song. Ever.

“Ron Weasley has requested to stop by in an hour or so,” McGonagall continued, speaking as if one of her favorite students was not behaving in anything less than a most responsible manner. Only her pale face, due to Hermione’s song, gave away any sort of clue as to her current mindset.

“Ron’s stopping by?” Harry asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, he said you wanted to talk to the two of you,” concluded McGonagall.

Knowing Ron, his idea of a “talk” would include him yelling and perhaps even screaming. The “talk” would also include him accusing Harry of being a glory hound and/or stealing his girl, then making Hermione cry, and then storming off.

Hermione stomped up to McGonagall, threw up her arms and cried out in an overly joyous manner, “I’m so depressed!”

Harry finally decided that it was time to lift the super-powered Cheering Charm off of Hermione. He pointed his wand at her and quickly cast a simple: “/Finite/!”

Much to both Harry and McGonagall’s surprise, Hermione’s ‘jolly’ mood did not dissipate. Instead she attempted to do a cartwheel away from the Headmistress. Her attempt failed and the brunette witch crashed to the ground. The rational part of Harry’s mind felt embarrassed for his girlfriend at her crash. However, the naughty part of Harry’s mind (the part of the brain that has control over most thought processes in most males) liked the way Hermione naked bum jiggled when it hit the floor.

Regaining his composure after being enticed by Hermione’s naked bottom, Harry looked at his wand disbelievingly as Hermione stood up, laughing. Again, he pointed his wand and said, “/Finite/!”

Apparently, the second cancellation spell worked as well as the first, seeing that Hermione still continued to laugh.

“Why isn’t it working?” McGonagall asked.

Before Harry could speculate as to the reasons, Hermione dashed at him and shouted, “Maybe because he’s using the wrong wand!” She then promptly yanked Harry’s trousers down and before he could cover himself up, she grabbed ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ and suggested, “Here, use this wand and see if it works!’

“Good grief!” McGonagall exclaimed as she tried to shield her eyes.

“Hermione,” Harry whined as he tried to push her hands away from his bits so that he could cover them.

“Fine, have it your way spoil sport,” Hermione said as she gave up and let ‘/Harry, Jr./’ go. This of course freed up her hands to do other things, like spank Harry’s naked bottom.

Harry cried out in pain as his bum was spanked once more. He recoiled away from Hermione’s hand but this led to him thrusting his bits in McGonagall’s direction. Thankfully, Harry thought, the Headmistress still had her hand over her eyes.

Hiking up his clothing once more, Harry told McGonagall it was okay to look again. But just as the elder witch lowered her hand away from her eyes, Hermione decided to lower Harry’s bottoms again.

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” McGonagall shouted.

It was at this point that Hermione decided to give the Headmistress a special puppet show, with ‘/Harry, Jr./’ being the puppet. She knelt in front of Harry and grabbed his organ once again.

“‘Hello, Professor McGonagall,'” Hermione said in a gruff voice as she held ‘/Harry, Jr./’ and made him bow in a greeting to the older witch. She was squeezing the crown of the appendage so that his urethra was opening and closing as she pretended that the slit was a mouth and it was talking. “‘I’m Harry’s Penis. How are you today?'”

Harry tried to push Hermione off of him, but Hermione held fast to his member. Because of the slight tugging going on, ‘/Harry, Jr./’ started to wake up to see what the commotion was all about.

“‘Gee, Hermione, can I come out to play?'” she ‘asked’ in her gruff voice as she continued to squeeze and tug at ‘/Harry, Jr/.’ “‘I’ve been lonely for a while. Lonely and bored. Can you help?”

“I don’t know Mr. Harry’s Penis,” she replied in her normal voice. “Your friend Harry is being a bit of a spoil sport right now…”

One can hardly blame Harry for what happened; because of all the spanking -yes it hurt, but in a good kind of way – the fact that Hermione bum was completely exposed and naked, and the fact that his girlfriend was literally and figuratively playing with his bits; Harry was starting to get aroused. This of course was mortifying because McGonagall was in the same room as he and Hermione. Harry reckoned that if the Headmistress wasn’t there, he’d let Hermione use ‘/Harry, Jr./’ as a puppet all day long. But the unfortunate fact that McGonagall was there was disturbing.

“Oh, it looks like Harry has decided to let you play after all, Mr. Harry’s Penis!” Hermione exclaimed as the organ began to swell and grow in her hand. “Would you like to play ‘/tonsil boxing/’ with me, or perhaps ‘/all hands on dick/’?”

“Ms. Granger,” McGonagall howled with her hand over her eyes. “I insist you stop this foolishness right now!”

Harry groaned as Hermione stimulated him with her hands – that and the fact that she had just used the word “/dick/,” apparently he discovered that something about Hermione talking dirty made him randy. A bit of clear pre-cum seeped out of ‘/Harry, Jr./’

“Oh, no. You poor thing. You’re crying! Why are you so sad Mr. Harry’s Penis?” asked Hermione in an overly sweetly concerned voice. “Did Professor McGonagall make you upset? Maybe you need a kiss.”

Hermione leaned in and was about to give ‘/Harry, Jr./’ a kiss when Professor McGonagall announced, “This has to stop!”

She whipped out her wand and leveled it at the kneeling witch.

“/Finite/!” the Headmistress shouted.

Hermione paused, mere centimeters away from Harry’s crown. She looked up at Harry and declared with a wink, “We’ll finish the puppet show later!’ She then jumped up and ran around the room while holding her arms out to the side and making airplane noises.

Harry and McGonagall stared at the young witch as she appeared to pretend to be a plane while running around the room. After a bit, they both shared a concerned look. Then McGonagall happened to look down.

“For heaven’s sake, Potter!” she shouted as she covered her eyes yet again. “Cover yourself up!”

Harry looked down and saw that his aroused state was still very much exposed. He quickly hiked up his pajama bottoms, completely embarrassed.

“Sorry about that Professor,” said Harry, indicating that he was now decent.

McGonagall lowered her hand and gave Harry a stern look. She proceeded to say in an austere tone “Cover yourself a little more, Potter!”

Once again, he looked down at himself in shock. He was still fairly erect and was pointing in McGonagall’s direction. It was if ‘/Harry, Jr/.’ was pointing at the Headmistress in an accusatory way and was saying “YOU! It’s your fault! I can’t play with my Hermione because you made her stop! YOU BITCH!”

As quickly as he could, Harry snatched a pillow from the nearby couch and held the fluffy accessory like a shield in front of his crotch.

“Well, at least I know you’re a true Gryffindor,” McGonagall muttered. “You ‘/dress right/’.”

Hermione had finally stopped pretending to be a plan and was now tumbling head over heels across the floor chanting “Hoop-ah!”

“What in the hell did you do to her?” demanded McGonagall as Hermione’s tumbling knocked over a small table, breaking it. Hermione muttered an “oops” and quickly performed a Repair Charm on the broken table.

“I… I just used a Cheering Charm on her,” admitted Harry.

Hermione giggled as she transfigured the table into a dozen tiny, miniscule red elephants.

“How many Cheering Charms did you use on her?” McGonagall asked incredulously.

Unable to answer McGonagall, Harry pointed his wand at Hermione, who was frantically chasing the tiny red elephants around the room.

“/Finite/!” Harry commanded.

Hermione slowed her frantic chase to a trot, but was still giggling like a school-girl.

“/Finite/!” he shouted again.

It was at this point that Hermione seemed to lose interest with the pack of puny pachyderms and started to hop like a bunny toward McGonagall, a bunny with her beautiful bare bum hanging out of her pants.

“/Finite/!”

The hop changed into a skip.

“/Finite/!”

The skip was replaced by a saunter, a saunter with a bounce to it, mind you.

“/Finite/!”

Her bouncy saunter disappeared as Hermione finally reached McGonagall. Harry could tell by the glow in Hermione’s cheeks (both sets, he thought wickedly) and the goofy grin on her face that she was still under the effects of his super-charged Cheering Charm, but he reckoned that it would be close enough.

“I’m sorry Professor,” Hermione said with a chuckle as she hiked up her slacks, covering her bum. This made Harry a tad disappointed. He rather liked seeing her bottom.

“It’s quite alright, Hermione,” replied McGonagall. “I was young and in love once, too.”

It was at this point that McGonagall focused on Harry and the message on his pajamas. She then gave Harry the same saucy smile she had given him the other day. It was like someone had dumped a very large bucket of ice water on his head.

“And speaking of love,” McGonagall said to Hermione, oblivious to Harry’s discomfort, “I thought it would be best if you had a look at today’s /Prophet/.”

The Headmistress pulled a rolled up copy of the newspaper out of her robes and handed it to Hermione.

“Is there anything wrong, Professor?” Harry asked as Hermione took the Prophet from the Headmistress. Harry noted that when she took the paper from McGonagall, Hermione was guffawing softly and he swore he heard her mutter a word that Hermione would never say. But he could have sworn he heard her mutter the word “/gimmie/.”

“Oh, not at all. The Prophet is merely reporting Harry’s declaration he made during the reception yesterday,” McGonagall answered. “I’ll leave you two alone,” with that, McGonagall left the Common Room.

Harry gasped in fear. He had totally forgotten to warn Hermione about his outburst. And now, she was going to hear about it from the /Daily Prophet/!

“What declaration?” Hermione asked as she started to read the front page.

“I’m sorry Hermione,” Harry rapidly spoke. “I kind of told Ron — and everyone else — that I’m in love with -“

“Draco,” Hermione interrupted.

“Yes – What? – NO!” Harry sputtered, stunned.

Hermione started to read the article that adorned the front page of the Daily Prophet/. Of course, since she was still under the effect of the super-charged Cheering Charm, she read it in a silly voice. “‘/The //Chosen/ One announces his forbidden love!’/

“‘/During the Delacour/Weasley wedding yesterday, Harry Potter (The Boy Who Lived, The /Chosen/ One, and Dumbledore’s Man, Through and Through) announced his undying love for novice Death Eater and all-around bad-boy, Draco Malfoy.'”/

“WHAT?” Harry screamed. He could swear that he could hear McGonagall laughing in the hall.

“‘/Stunned guests witnessed as Potter proudly stated that he was in love with the wizard who helped Death Eaters invade Hogwarts.'”/ Hermione continued to read in her giddy voice. “‘/Potter shouted “I don’t care who knows anymore, I’m in love with Draco!”‘/

“Bu… bu… bu… but I’m not gay!” Harry defended himself. “Even if I were, I could never be attracted to Draco. I don’t know where anyone would get that notion. I hate the little ferret.”

“Well, it looks like they’ve got an explanation for that,” Hermione said while trying to fight a fit of laughter. “/’Fred and George Weasley (brothers of the groom) who attended Hogwarts with Potter gave us some insight to Potter and Malfoy’s relationship: “Every time we played a Quidditch match against Slytherin, Draco and Harry would always go for each other’s throats…” Fred told us’/

“/’Yeah, everyone could tell their aggressiveness towards each other was just unresolved sexual tension,” George concluded.'”/

“I-am-going-to-kill-them!” Harry hissed.

“‘Another classmate of Potter, Dean Thomas, informed, “I swear I saw the two of them snogging in the halls last year.””

/ /”Right after I kill him,” Harry hissed again.

“Alas, does this mean we’re over Harry,” Hermione asked with overly-dramatic and obviously fake sadness and dropped the Prophet on the table. “I don’t think I could share you with another man!”

“Oh, shut it!” Harry moaned dejectedly and flopped on the couch. “How’d this happen?”

“Well, you know how this newspaper never gets anything right,” Hermione attempted to console him. Her attempt to comfort him was difficult however seeing that she was still chuckling.

“I know that,” Harry stated and Hermione sat down next to him. “But why would my friends say that about me?”

“That’s simple. As to Fred and George, they did it as a joke,” Hermione explained and then added under her breath “a bloody good one at that.” She then said “And Dean, well he probably did it because you did steal his girlfriend last year.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I deserved that last bit,” Harry said.

“The girlfriend who happened to look like your mum,” Hermione added. Harry groaned pitifully and Hermione muttered “sicko.”

Hermione pecked Harry’s cheek and announced, “We have an hour or so before Ron gets here and I have something we can do in the mean time. A deviously clever idea struck me while I was under your Cheering Charm.”

“An idea about what?” asked Harry.

“Revenge,” heralded Hermione. She then stood and declared in a very dramatic way: “Revenge against Remus and Tonks!”

Hermione spent the next twenty minutes gathering potion supplies and explaining her plan to Harry.

“I was inspired by Remus’ prank where he used a theory for one spell but used it on a different spell, causing a completely unheard of effect for the latter,” Hermione spoke very rapidly as she threw several ingredients in the simmering cauldron. “I asked myself ‘why don’t we do the same thing? Combine two different things and hit those two with it?’ So, I decided to mix two different potions, a mild Lust Potion and an Infelix Infaustus potion. The Infelix Infaustus potion does the exact opposite of the Felix Felicis, instead of giving the drinker good luck, they’re plagued with bad luck. My theory is that when we combine the Lust and Bad Luck potions, the victims -Remus and Tonks – will have bouts of lowered inhibitions at inappropriate times and places.”

“You lost me at ‘/I was inspired/…'” Harry admitted as he watched his girlfriend stir the contents of the cauldron.

“Remus and Tonks will be molesting each other, much like I did to you when I was under the influence of Ginny’s Lust Potion,” Hermione explained in simpler terms. “But they will be doing it at the most inappropriate times and places. Imagine the next Order of the Phoenix meeting; Molly will be going over the minutes from the last meeting and Tonks will mount Remus right then and there!”

“They’ll be mortified!” exclaimed Harry.

“They’ll never live it down!” proclaimed Hermione.

“They’ll never be able to show their faces in public again!” added Harry.

“Excellent!” both teens gloriously cried out.

Hermione cackled and put in the final ingredient. She carefully poured the contents of the cauldron into a glass vial. “Now all we have to do is sprinkle this over something they’ll eat or into their drinks.”

“How about we sprinkle it over their tea supply?” offered Harry.

“Wonderful! That way they’ll have to deal with the effects whenever they have tea! They will be pranked continually, and not know how!”

The sound of the portrait of the Fad Lady opening drew their attention to the entrance to the Common Room. A silent and sullen Ron Weasley walked in.

“Um, hi Ron,” Harry nervously greeted his hopefully still best mate.

“Hiya Harry… Hermione,” he responded in a quiet and apprehensive way. Hermione weakly waved at her former “we’re together” friend. And those four words, well four words and an “/Um/” sound, were the only things said for a very long minute. During that minute, the trio busied themselves in various ways; Hermione seemed to be fascinated by a strand of her own hair and inspected it closely. Ron appeared to be counting the dust specks on the chandelier above their heads (which was still swinging slightly due to Hermione impromptu impersonation of Tarzan) while Harry was literarily twiddling his thumbs trying his best not to look at anyone or anything in particular.

“Ooh, this is maddening!” announced Hermione, finally breaking the awkward silence. “I never meant to hurt you Ron, it just that…”

“I know, I know,” Ron said. “I did a lot of thinking about what Harry said, and it made sense. In the long run, I don’t think it would’ve worked out. It still hurts a little, but I think that it would’ve hurt a lot more if we had been together longer and then realize that we wouldn’t work out. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Hermione, taken back at Ron’s surprising amount of insight.

“And I reckon that it will hurt a little seeing the two of you together for a bit, but if it makes you two happy then I’m happy.” Ron concluded.

“Thanks mate, that means a lot,” Harry said, his heart feeling a little lighter.

“Besides I should’ve seen this coming, the two of you hooking up. I mean, look at all the stuff you two have done together,” Ron stated. “You both went into the Forbidden Forest in our first year while I was stuck in the Hospital Ward. Then there was the Time Turner Adventure you had in our third year where you saved Sirius and rode Buckbeak. And in our fifth, you two went into the Forest twice together and then when we split up in the Department of Mysteries, you two were still a team.”

A genuine smile appeared on both Ron and Harry’s faces as they shook hands, renewing their friendship. Hermione then hugged their tall friend. As she pulled away from him, Ron looked at her red eye and asked “Were you hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse?”

Hermione snorted in a very un-lady-like fashion and Harry’s heart sunk as he realized the awkward situation of the talk with Ron had forced Hermione to suppress the urges she was feeling from the super-charged Cheering Charm. Apparently, since the awkwardness of the talk had passed, the effects of the super-charged Cheering Charm kicked in once again.

“My eye is red because Harry came in it,” informed Hermione with a chuckle.

Harry gaped with his mouth open in shock at Ron. Hermione had just blurted out how far their relationship had progressed and Harry was fearful of Ron’s reaction. You see, Ron was prone to bouts of jealously and anger. And Harry worried that Ron would react badly because Ron was basically just told that Hermione had given Harry a hand-job. But thankfully, Ron was also prone to bouts of denseness.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, dumbfounded. “How can someone come into your eye?”

Before Harry could defuse the situation, Hermione answered Ron’s question, “Not ‘into’, in. And it’s quite simple: Bad aim, that’s how.”

Ron stared at his two best friends in bewilderment for a moment. Then slowly, understanding dawned in his eyes.

“SHE NEVER DID THAT WITH ME!”

“Pfft,” Hermione countered – if one could call a “pfft” noise a counterpoint. “I never did /any/thing with you.”

Hermione then proceeded to attempt to once more lower Harry’s pants. Luckily, Harry seized hold of his trousers before Hermione could tug them down.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Ron asked Harry.

“I hit her with a super-charged Cheering Charm,” Harry tried to inform his friend while wrestling for control of his pants with Hermione.

“You hit her with a super-charged Cheering Charm by cumming in her eye?” demanded Ron.

“No, no, no,” Harry stammered. He was beginning to lose the battle over his pants and he was quite worried that Ron was about to formally meet ‘Harry, Jr.’ “No, we performed a ritual to find the Horcruxes…”

Harry paused as he started to feel the fabric of his pants slip away.

“And you performed this ritual by cumming in her eye?” Ron asked, still trying to follow the chain of events.

“No,” Hermione answered and thankfully gave up in her quest to expose ‘Harry, Jr.’ and walked over to stand in front of Ron. “I found a ritual in a dirty little book Harry was trying to hide from me.” Of course, Hermione was speaking very rapidly. “The ritual required me to wank his willy,” Hermione paused momentarily to make a rude hand gesture to Ron, as if she needed to give the red-haired wizard a visual reference to what she was talking about. “Well, then we had an out of body experience where we found the location of all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, but the ritual ended when Harry came. Unfortunately, he cummed in my eye, duh!” She accentuated this point by leaning very close to Ron so that he could inspect the eye in question.

“And as to the reason I’m acting so strangely,” Hermione continued after she believed that Ron had inspected her red-eye enough. “Harry informed me that there was more to the prophesy concerning he and Voldemort than just ‘me against him’ and it dealt with a power Harry has that Voldemort doesn’t even know about. And apparently that power is love and so I decided to see how much his love affected simple charms and spells. So we did a little experiment with a Cheering Charm and ‘lo and behold you have a very hyper-active Hermione. Harry has tried to cancel out the charm, but what he doesn’t realized is that he had so much power in the charm that he’ll have to tap into his love-core again to cancel it completely. That or hit me with a dozen or so more ‘Finites'”

“Oh, okay. So when are we going to Godric’s Hollow and start looking for the Horcruxes?” Ron asked, abruptly changing subjects, obviously pretending that not only had he understood what Hermione had said, but that she was acting completely normal.

“How about now?” asked Harry, equally trying to pretend that Hermione’s actions were normal.

“Why not?” Ron agreed.

“Fine, but let’s stop by Remus and Tonks’ place first,” Hermione said with a knowing look in her eye – well her one good eye that is. “Just to let them know we’re going on a trip.”

“Alright, before we leave let’s go to the kitchen and get some food,” Harry said. “I’m famished.”

“Wait. First, I have some ‘f/orgive me I was such a berk/’ presents to give you two,” Ron said as he started to reach in his robes.

“Ron that’s not necessary,” Hermione said gently.

“It’s something I feel I need to do, is all,” stated Ron and he pulled out a single yellow rose and handed it to Hermione. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Of course we are,” Hermione said with tears of happiness in her eyes and she hugged Ron again. After they broke apart, Ron pulled a box out of his robes and handed it to Harry.

“Here you go Harry,” Ron said as Harry took the box. “I had it made for you this morning. I hope it fits.”

Harry opened the box to find a bright pink pullover with the words “Draco’s Little Princess” embroidered on it.

“I think Draco would like that,” Hermione said with a chuckle as she examined the shirt over Harry’s shoulder. Harry groaned and looked at Ron who appeared to on the verge of laughter.

“Ha, ha, let it out you two,” Harry said mirthlessly.

“Do you think that Harry would be the Keeper or the Chaser?” Ron asked. “I think he’d be the Keeper in the relationship.”

“Oh, yes, I can totally see that,” Hermione answered. “Draco is very aggressive, so that would make him the dominant of the pair.”

This playful ribbing continued as the trio went to the kitchens and grabbed some food. Dobby made it a point to say goodbye to Harry and if they needed anything that they shouldn’t hesitate to call on the little House-Elf. As Harry left the kitchen, he absently noted that Kreacher was no where to be seen.

After they left the castle grounds, Hermione turned to Harry and demanded “Lift this Charm off of me this instant! I refuse to go any further until I am normal. It’s taking too much effort to restrain myself right now. And I’m afraid that I’ll lose my concentration in the middle of a large crowd of people.”

“Okay, /Finite/.” Harry said after he pointed his wand at her.

“No Harry!” Hermione exclaimed gleefully. “I told you earlier you will have to hit me with a dozen more Finites or one loved powered Finite!”

“You did?” he asked.

“Yes, remember when I was explaining our situation to Ron?”

“Um, no, not really,” Harry responded honestly. In Harry’s defense, she had been speaking rather rapidly earlier.

“Well, tap into your love-core so I can be normal again,” demanded Hermione.

Harry paused and focused on how he felt for his girlfriend and muttered “/Finite.”/

With a sigh, Hermione acknowledged that she had finally returned to normal.

The trio signaled for the Knight Bus. With a loud BANG, the triple decked bus appeared in front of them. Harry, Hermione, and Ron got on and took the Knight Bus to Remus’ cottage.

“Wothcher, kids,” Tonks greeted them as she answered the door. “Come inside.”

Tonks led the group to the small front room where Remus was reading The Quibbler.

“Hello, you three,” Remus greeted. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, just wanted to stop by before we head off to Godric’s Hollow,” informed Harry.

Remus and Tonks shared a concerned look.

“Pardon me, but may I use the bathroom?” Hermione interjected.

“Of course you can, Hermione.” Tonks answered.

Hermione winked at Harry before disappearing around the corner. Harry had some difficulty controlling his joy at the thought of Remus and Tonks embarrassing themselves due to Hermione’s ingenious plan of revenge.

“Now Harry, I want to warn you about what you’ll find at Godric’s Hollow,” said Remus, the concern in his voice was obvious to anyone who was paying attention. However, Harry wasn’t paying attention. His mind was filled with images of the humiliated pair of Tonks and Remus.

“Joseph Middwood was the man Lily and James hired to be the house’s caretaker,” Remus continued and Harry nodded his head as if he understood what the older wizard had said. “And he has done… some questionable things since your parents died…”

Harry almost laughed out loud as a mental image of Remus and Tonks sitting at the dinner table at the Burrow entered his mind. He imagined Molly setting the main course in front of Remus. The werewolf then looked up at Molly and thanked her before shoving his hand down Tonks’ blouse to squeeze her tit. In Harry’s mind, Molly then gasped as Tonks whipped out Remus’ willy and started to wank him off.

“… and apparently, he thought he deserved more money…” Remus continued to speak. And Harry continued to ignore him.

Harry gleefully imagined another mortifying predicament caused by Hermione’s Bad Lust potion. In his mind’s eye, Harry saw Remus stop by the Ministry of Magic to drop off some lunch for Tonks. He imagined them talking for a bit about inconsequential things, but the moment that Tonks’ supervisor happened to stop by, all hell would break loose. Harry fought the urge to chuckle at the imagined shocked expression on Tonks’ boss’s face when Remus put his willy in-between the pink haired witch’s boobs and began to whack himself off with her mounds.

Another image suddenly popped in Harry’s mind driving the current scenario from his imagination. Instead of Remus giving Tonks a good old fashion titty-fuck, Harry saw himself in the same position, but with Hermione and her wondrous breasts being the stars. He wondered momentarily if Hermione would ever agree to such an activity. He didn’t think that she would agree to such a thing just for the pleasure of it; but remembering his sore bottom and how moist and musky her knickers were from earlier, Harry realized that his girlfriend was a touch kinky. He even considered momentarily using his super-charged Cheering Charm just to bring that naughty girl out once more, but quickly put that thought aside. He could never use Hermione. He loved her and would never intentionally force her to lower her inhibitions for his pleasure. Hopefully, he thought, a ritual would be in the ‘/special book’/ which would require him putting ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ between Hermione’s beautiful boobs. He felt ‘/Harry, Jr./’ began to stir at the thought of getting the opportunity to frolic with ‘/Carmella/’ and ‘/Natasha/’.

“… I’ve tried talking with Joseph.” Remus sighed dejectedly before continuing. “But he won’t listen to reason.”

The magnificent image of Harry giving Hermione his own special pearl necklace was sadly replaced by another vision of a “Bad Lust” attack. The image this time focused on Tonks taking Remus to visit her folks. Remus gave Mrs. Tonks a kiss as a greeting and shook Mr. Tonks’ hand like a gentleman before Remus began humping their daughter’s leg like a rabid dog – or in Remus’ case — a wolf. Granted, Harry found this image humorous, but he found the image of a naked Hermione underneath him much more preferable.

“… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now,” concluded Remus. “I just wanted to prepare you for what you’ll find there.”

“Oh, thanks Remus,” Harry responded, absentmindedly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

What he’ll keep in mind was a total mystery to Harry since he hadn’t heard a word that Remus had said.

“Sorry about that,” Hermione began as she reentered the room. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing important,” replied Harry. Hermione gave him a look that clearly told him that the mission was accomplished. Soon, very soon, Tonks would be jumping Remus’ bones and their revenge will be complete!

“All right then, I guess we should be going,” Hermione announced.

“Okay, see you three later,” Remus bid them farewell. But before Harry could turn and leave, Remus said to Tonks: “Tonks, love.”

“Yes, sweetie,” she replied.

“Remind me to throw away the tea,” Remus said as he picked up The Quibbler and started to read it once more. “Hermione spiked it while pretending to use the loo.”

“Yes dear,” Tonks replied nonchalantly as if their tea supply was often spiked and she was rather bored with the chore of throwing it away.

“Why would she spike your tea?” Ron asked.

Harry could feel his eye twitch. His dream of revenge was destroyed before it even started. Remus just killed his dream. Harry looked at Hermione and saw that her eye was twitching as well.

“Just for a prank,” Remus said to Ron.

“But… but…. But how’d you know?” stammered Hermione.

“I have wards up all over the house, and they alert me if something gets disturbed.” Remus answered. “You two will have to come up with better ideas if you want to pull a practical joke on me. Remember, I am a Marauder after all.”

“DAMN IT!” Harry cursed and stomped out of the cottage. Hermione followed, grumbling under her breath. Ron silently followed, not realizing all the trouble his friends had been through.

“Oi, Hermione,” Tonks called out from the house to the trio as Harry signaled for the Knight Bus. “Next time, turn your head. That way you avoid getting it in your eye!” Hermione shot Tonks a dirty look with her one good eye as the pink haired witch continued to taunt; “Oh, and Harry, don’t forget to give Draco a kiss for me!”

The purple bus appeared with a bang and Harry gloomily walked on.

“Godric’s Hollow,” Harry told the driver. Harry sat on a chair in the back after paying the driver and Hermione and Ron soon joined him.

“Why were you trying to prank Remus,” Ron asked.

“He pranked us first,” Harry blurted out not realizing that he would have to describe the prank to Ron. Even though Ron was being a sport concerning Harry and Hermione’s relationship, Harry didn’t want to aggravate Ron by telling him the whole “/Tonks caught me eating out Hermione while you thought you two were still a couple and then Remus pranked us by making us believe the Ministry made flyers describing the scene Tonks saw/” ordeal. So, as quickly as he could, Harry made up a prank that wouldn’t possibly rile Ron. “Remus called me a poopie head.”

Hermione slapped her head in annoyance at Harry’s poor cover-up.

“Really? A ‘/poopie-head’/?” Ron asked; thankfully Ron wasn’t the brightest person in the world. “You’d think a Marauder would come up with a better prank than that.”

Hermione slapped her head again; this time in annoyance to Ron’s stupidity.

“I mean ‘/poopie-head’/ isn’t even funny,” Ron continued, unmindful of Hermione’s vexation. “I thought the Marauders were supposed to be the best pranksters to ever attend Hogwarts. But /’poopie-head’/?” Ron concluded by shaking his head in a disappointed way. “Fred and George would be so disappointed.”

Harry began to grow concerned. Not only was his friend digging into the very unlikely excuse, but worse, Ron appeared to believe it. Harry truly wondered how Ron could be that gullible and trusting.

“But there’s something I don’t understand,” Ron said. “Why would you want to prank Remus back if he called you a ‘/poopie-head/’? I mean, why bother? You could just call him a ‘/berk’/ and be done with it.”

Worrying that his friend might finally deduce that the “poopie-head” story was just a cover-up for the “I got caught eating out Hermione,” Harry decided to divert Ron’s attention.

“Hey, we found where the Horcruxes are hidden!” announced Harry.

“That’s right!” Ron responded. “Where are they?”

“Harry!” hissed Hermione. With a tilt of her head, she indicated a group of four wizards sitting near the front of the Bus. “Do you want them to hear this conversation?”

Harry doubted that they had heard him mention the horcruxes, but he knew that Hermione was right. Discreetly pulling out his wand, Harry pointed it at the group of wizards and muttered: “Muffliato!”

The Muffliato Charm was designed to fill the ears of the people who were hit with it to have their hearing filled with unidentifiable buzzing sounds. It was a simple charm that would allow Harry and his friends to talk without being overheard. It was also a charm that wouldn’t harm anyone. Harry hated to admit it, but Snape did make some useful spells.

The Muffliato Charm wouldn’t harm anyone unless the caster had gone and unwittingly performed a power boosting ritual, much like Harry had.

“OH SWEET MERLIN!” the first wizard shouted while frantically looking around him. “ARE WE UNDER ATTACK FROM MONSTROUSLY HUGE BEES?”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” the second wizard screamed at the first.

“THE AGONY OF TINNIUS!” the third hollered while clutching his ears.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” the fourth wizard yelled.

Both Ron and Hermione shot looks at Harry as the four wizards continued to frantically scream and shout. Ron’s look told Harry that the red head was confused and didn’t understand why such a simple and harmless charm had created such havoc. However, Hermione’s look was different; it clearly told Harry that she was very upset with him.

“What’s going on?” Ron hollered as the first wizard continued to warn everyone around him at the top of his lung about the impending bee attack. “Why are they acting like that? The Muffliato shouldn’t cause that type of reaction!”

“Because Harry forgot he performed a power-boosting ritual!” yelled Hermione.

“What?” shouted Ron over the cries of the four unknown wizards.

“Harry performed a power-boosting ritual!” she yelled louder.

“WHAT?”

“HE PERFORMED A POWER-BOOSTING RITUAL!!!” screamed Hermione, her face had turned a bright red as she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, how’d you do it?” Ron asked Harry rather loudly.

Sharing a concerned look with Harry, Hermione began to sputter: “We… um… he… err… well…”

Harry noticed that Ron was trying his best to hear what Hermione was muttering but he could tell that Ron couldn’t hear anything she was saying over the shouts and screams of the four wizards. Harry shouted to Ron “NEVER MIND, IT ISN’T IMPORTANT.”

“ALRIGHT!” Ron shouted and asked “WHERE ARE THE HORCRUXES?”

Hermione must have realized that it would’ve been very difficult to tell Ron the locations of the Horcruxes over the four wizards’ screams so she pulled some parchment out of her robes along with a quill and scratched out some notes. After a moment, she showed Harry the note and shouted in his ear so that he could hear what she was asking: “Does this look right to you?”

Harry quickly read the parchment.

“Slytherin’s locket was at Borgin & Burkes, but was sold to an unknown wizard.

An unknown item is hidden under the orphanage where Riddle was raised.

Hufflepuff’s cup is at number twelve, //Grimmauld Place//. (R. A. B. was Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother)

Voldemort, the final Horcrux.”

Harry silently nodded his head in approval and handed Hermione’s note to Ron. After reading the note once (which took an abnormally long amount of time), Ron reread it again, this time, it appeared that he was counting off the Horcruxes. With a perplexed and somewhat pained look (Harry couldn’t tell if the pained expression on his face was due to the fact that he just had to read something that wasn’t homework or Quidditch related or not), Ron attempted to ask Harry and Hermione a question. Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t hear what he was saying over the four wizards who were now panicking.

“To hell with this,” Harry muttered and pointed his wand at the wizards. “/Finite/”

“Thank heaven,” the first wizard exclaimed as he sat back down. “The monstrously huge bees have called off their attack”

“I’ve been cured!” the third wizard cried out.

The other two wizards sat down and appeared to be pretending as if nothing unusual had just happened.

“What was that Ron?” asked Hermione.

“There’s only four,” Ron answered.

“So?” asked Harry.

“Well including the diary that you destroyed in second year and the ring that Dumbledore destroyed last year; that only makes six.” Ron explained. “I thought there was supposed to be seven of them?”

Harry and Hermione were taken back for two reasons; firstly, Ron was correct in the fact that they were one Horcrux short. And the second and more shocking reason; Ron was correct.

“Maybe we did the ritual wrong,” speculated Hermione. “Perhaps we should do it again.”

Harry’s heart leapt up at the thought of Hermione’s small hands wrapped around ‘Harry, Jr.’ and a goofy grin stretched across his face.

“Maybe I could do it too?” Ron asked hopefully.

The goofy grin quickly disappeared from Harry’s face and he glowered at his friend. ‘What the hell is he implying?’ Harry thought.

“Just what are you implying, Ron?” Hermione demanded, scandalized.

“What? Wait?” Ron sputtered, noticing the shocked looks of his friends. “What’s wrong with me wanting to help? Why can’t I do the ritual?”

“Ron, weren’t you listening to me back in the Common Room? Hermione asked. “I told you: Harry and I performed a… sex based ritual. That’s why ‘not you’!”

“Oh god, no, Hermione,” Ron replied quickly. “Um… No, what I mean is that no I didn’t really pay atten… that is understand you back there. But why can’t I do the ritual? Not with you Hermione. I was thinking about giving Lav-Lav another go.”

“What? Lavender Brown?” Hermione screeched, obviously upset with Ron and his choice of witches. Harry was just glad he wasn’t propositioning Hermione. He loved Ron like a brother, but he had no intention of sharing Hermione with him. “She is a bubble-headed, silly girl,” Hermione continued. “You will not date her again.”

“Why not?” asked Ron.

“Because the only thing you two had in common was over-active hormones!”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!” Hermione called out. “You cannot have a relationship built strictly on lust, you have to have a relationship, a truly deep and meaningful connection. Like Harry and I do.”

Harry tuned out his friends’ argument; ‘if you’ve hear them argue once, you’ve heard them enough’ he rationalized. His mind drifted back to Godric’s Hollow, the place where he and his family once lived. His heart was filled with anticipation and trepidation at the thought of visiting the house where he was born and where his parents were killed.

“The only way that I will allow you to even contemplate participating in any ritual,” Hermione stated with authority, “will be after Harry and I find you a proper girl you can date.

“And that is final!” Hermione concluded, ending the argument.

The Bus suddenly stopped and a witch with four young children climbed on board. “Godric’s Hollow, please,” she said to the driver.

Harry was a little more than taken back; she wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow like he did. Ever since he had first heard of Godric’s Hollow, Harry had assumed that it was the name of the house he and his parents had lived in. Harry looked over to Hermione, who appeared to be having the same quandary as he. Ron however, was still concentrating over Hermione’s dictate.

“I don’t see why I can’t have a say in who I’m allowed to date,” Ron muttered sullenly. “At least let me have some input, please Hermione?” he pleaded.

“Perhaps, if you behave yourself,” Hermione conceded, simply to stop the discussion.

Maybe, Harry thought, Godric’s Hollow was the name of the village where his parents had lived. This seemed very possible because the Bus stopped again and the people who got on also wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow. It seemed very feasible until Ron spoke up and said: “I haven’t been here since I was a kid. I know it’s kind of lame now that I’ve grown, but it’s still cool.” He then added very excitedly; “I can’t wait to ride the stairway again!”

Before Harry or Hermione could ask Ron what he had meant, the Bus came to a screeching halt and the driver announced, “Godric’s Hollow.” Harry was the first of the trio to exit the Bus, and what he saw made him almost faint.

Harry stood in front of a large grey warehouse. There were a number of wizards and witches with their children that had formed a queue waiting to get into the building. This wasn’t all that shocking, but the flashing sign hanging above the entrance to the warehouse was the thing that made Harry almost faint. The sign stated:

“Welcome to Godric’s Hollow; Home of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived! Watch Mr. and Mrs. Potter as they bravely try to fight off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Marvel at the miracle of You-Know-Who’s downfall!

Ticket Prices:

Adults: 3 knuts

Children (11 and under) 2 knuts

Seniors (80 and older) 2 knuts.”

“Excuse me, but either join the queue or get out of the way please,” a witch with three children said to Harry as she pushed her way past him. The witch then stepped in the back of a line that went from the street where Harry had stepped off of the Bus to the entrance.

From inside the warehouse, Harry could hear shouts of excitement, cries of fear, and various explosions.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Hermione asked, giving voice to Harry’s internal question.

“It’s just a tourist ride,” Ron explained, ignorant to the shock Harry was experiencing.

Harry wanted to hurt somebody. Hurt them very, very badly. He didn’t care who that somebody was; he needed someone to hurt, very, very badly. Then Ron had the misfortune to offer “Hey I know, since I didn’t get you a birthday present, how ’bout I buy you a glowing ‘/baby Harry/’?”

And the somebody that Harry needed to hurt very, very badly was going to be Ron.

To be continued.

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