Harry Potter and the Chat-Up Potion
Being an account of Harry Potter's attempt at coming up with a Cunning Plan to woo his One True Love and the Unfortunate Outcome to the aforementioned Plan.
The Players:
Mr. Harry Potter
Miss Hermione Granger
Miss Ginerva Weasley
Miss Susan Bones
Mr. Draco Malfoy (and friends)
Together with a generous and splendiferous supporting cast culled from the Best at Hogwarts School For The Magically Gifted, including: Messrs Longbottom, Weasley (R), MacMillan and Thomas, together with Miss's Parkinson, Patil (Padma), Bulstrode and Spinnet and special guest appearances from Miss's Chang and Lovegood.
The Humble Writer would like to thank: Poppy the Seal Coloured Cat for sitting, at Frequent Intervals, on the Muggle TypeWriterThingummyWorkingMachine keyboard and Deleting Great Things, Tesco's All Night Emporium (The Purveyors of Fine Wine), and one wonderful Ann, who by the wonders of Muggle Technology has Fearlessly Dissected this Disgraceful Missive and Turned It Into A Thing Of Rare Beauty.
Merlin Be Praised.
Let the Show Begin!
Act The First.
Hermione Granger tucked her hair behind one ear and turned the page of her book. It was the only sound in the near deserted library. The fine spring weather had sent everyone else out into the grounds. She, however, was far more conscientious. She was, after all, Head Girl. The door creaked behind her and she heard footsteps.
"Hermione?"
She turned at Harry's voice.
"Hallo Harry," she smiled at him, "no Quidditch practice?"
"No, you know there isn't."
She noticed the book in his hand.
"And voluntarily reading a book, are you feverish?"
"Ha ha, Hermione," he paused and adjusted his glasses, "I've got something I want you to help me with."
"Yes..."
"I'm getting desperate as the words always come out wrong."
"Yess ...."
"And life is passing me by."
"Yeesss ..."
"And only you can help me..."
"Yyeeesss ..?"
"So..." he cleared his throat, "will you help me make a chat-up potion?"
Hermione felt curiously deflated, not that she ever expected Him to ask her out. Head Girl or no. They were just Good Friends. Good Friends.
"Show me," she said rather shortly.
He hefted the book onto the table and opened it at a pre-marked page.
"I want it so I can chat someone up."
"Really, who?"
She looked at him with a strange feeling in her stomach.
He smiled his winning smile.
"Hermione, that's a secret."
They turned to the book, Harry leaning over her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her neck and cursed the grey pleated skirt and matching baggy jumper she wore.
Surreptitiously she drew up the hem of her skirt, daringly exposing an inch or two of thigh.
"'Sprecanus Amour Soir' she read, "'the Chat-Up Potion of Winsome Proudly-Standing, guaranteed to bring to you your hearts desire or any other witch or wizard you wish to seduce.'" She glanced at Harry, their noses an inch apart.
Her finger traced the spell ingredients as she read it out;
"'Strawberry from a southside field,
some orange and a pippin peel,
a blue fly wing and essence of bat,
a mandrake seed and hair of cat,
a Plummer mushroom from the midnight moon,
mix all these with a wooden spoon.
Stir left at daybreak one dozen counts,
stir right at midday twenty four amounts.
Add Tallis tree flowers pink or white,
say the spell below and you'll get it right.
Drink this before you see your dream
speak with her and she'll soon be keen'...
How corny," said Hermione pausing.
Harry's following finger collided with hers over the 'keen'.
A small thrill passed through the girl. She turned her head to look up into his face.
"'To kiss you like you've never been and continue to the bedroom scene,'" Harry finished hoarsely.
"It's the only spell I could find."
He felt his face go red.
There was a long pause.
They looked at each other...
"So you want to chat this girl up so you get to kiss her and then she goes to bed with you?" Hermione challenged him crossly, turning back to the book to read the words of the spell itself.
Her sense of timing was once again unerringly inaccurate.
"Well, no … Yes ...Umm ... No. The kissing'll do fine. Then the other bit depends on whether she'd want to with me, which knowing her, she probably won't. A bit prim that way, I think. But that wouldn't matter anyway, I just want her to be my girlfriend," he blurted in some confusion.
"It's a lot of trouble for a kiss."
"Hopefully more than one kiss, Hermione. I've fancied her for ages, simply ages."
"Really?"
"Oh yes and she doesn't know it."
"Really?"
"So, will you help me? I'm no good at potions and I can't ask anyone else and besides that you're my best friend, apart from Ron but I don't think he'd understand" Harry burbled on.
She considered a brief moment.
"Of course. Tomorrow's Saturday. I'll make a list and we'll go out after lunch."
"Great!" Harry's face lit up, "Hermione, you're a brick!" he landed a big wet kiss on her unsuspecting lips.
"Harry!" she said, abruptly.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." He turned and fled.
"Bugger," said Hermione with feeling, "bloody bugger sod it damn and blast."
Hermione sat at the dressing table, the various pots of unguents floating at eye level for her.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
She lived by rules and a rather large amount of bookism and logic.
She categorized her thoughts.
Why don't I look like Cho?
Why can't I be like Ginny?
Why doesn't Harry love me?
Why does he want to get off with someone else?
Her thoughts drifted to a dusty part of her brain where a filing cabinet marked 'sex' lingered, scarcely visited.
Hogwarts didn't teach sex education. Hermione felt there must be a reason for that but she had yet to discover it.
Notwithstanding that omission, she had researched the subject; not with her usual thoroughness, sex being a side issue when compared to OWLS or NEWTS but she had a fair grasp of the fundamentals. She opened the top drawer of the mental cabinet.
Eyes closed; soft music played, she felt Harry's weight upon her and his mouth kissing hers. She was kissing him. They were lying on her bed (is that significant?) Somehow they weren't wearing any clothes. (I wonder what it's like to be undressed by a man, could he cope with a bra. Would I need to wash my feet?) Bare flesh met bare flesh, (would he like my breasts, they might be a bit large), she could feel his heartbeat and something hot further down.....
"Hermione?"
She jerked, pulling her hand from down between her thighs.
"Ginny?"
She turned. Ginny was red haired and red faced with excitement.
"So you're going to do the potion for Harry?"
"How do you know?" she demanded at the unexpected statement.
"Cause Harry asked me if I thought you would do it for him and I said yes," replied Ginny in a single breath.
"Oh..." though she was cross, Hermione could hardly have a row with Ginny.
"And you know who he's after?" Hermione asked.
Ginny laughed.
"Don't you? He gets so tongue tied I thought it was obvious."
"No I don't, go on Ginny, give us a clue."
"She's a bit prim."
And with that she was gone.
That set Hermione thinking.
Ginny
Cho
Susan Bones
Parvati
Lavender
Well Ginny was unlikely seeing as he'd asked her about the potion,
Cho was seeing thingy,
Susan, maybe.
Parvati, too flighty.
Lavender, not his type.
Who else.
Who did he get tongue tied talking to?
Me.
Me?
Me!
Maybe it's his way of chatting me up!
Hermione's eyes widened.
Act The Second.
Harry sat on a stone bench outside the main entrance, contemplating his plan.
He wasn't much for plans but this was a good one. He thought so, Ginny thought so and he was sure Hermione would think so as well.
"Harry?"
It was Hermione.e.e.e.
Oh my god…
Harry stared.
She carried a wicker basket.
And wore a short muggle dress, blue, with buttons up the front.
Hermione had knees.
And thighs.
Rather nice thighs.
"Ready then?" she asked gaily.
"Course," Harry was on his feet and next to her in a moment, wondering whether he should have tried a bit better in the wardrobe department.
"Come along then" she said briskly.
Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose and stepped after her.
"I thought if we went to the southside field first" she suggested.
"Good idea," Harry agreed, "umm, is there a southside field?"
"This is Hogwarts Harry," came the enigmatic reply, "and I've got the blue fly wings, essence of bat and hair of a cat."
"Crookshanks?"
"Course not, he's a cross breed, remember, I've got another one off of Millicent Bulstrode's cat."
They both laughed at the thought of Millicent Bulstrode's cat. And the Polyjuice Potion.
Hermione knelt to pick the strawberry.
Harry stared at the taut hem high across her thigh and swallowed.
She held out her hand.
"Help me up."
He took her hand. It was cool on his. He helped her up and squeezed it. She squeezed it back.
He let go.
Damn damn.
Hermione suddenly realised she had no idea how to chat anyone up either. Not only that, but the idea had never crossed her mind.
Hermione, you are pathetic.
The Unseasonal Greenhouse yielded the orange and pippin.
They crossed the grounds toward the forest, passing other groups of students sat on the grass. A sizeable group kicked a football, encouraged by Dean Thomas, the West Ham fan.
Ron nudged Neville.
"Looks like Hermione's after Harry."
"D'you think so?" Neville stared after them.
"Have you ever seen her in a dress that short before?"
"No..."
"Well then. By the way, how's it going with Candice?"
Neville went pink.
"Umm…well … er ... ok, ok, good … yes … good … very good ... fantastic ... brilliant!" Neville finished, flushed.
"Ok, ok, I get the picture." Ron wished he'd never asked. Since he'd been dumped by Padma, he'd not had a lot of success.
Padma lay on her stomach on the grass next to Ernie MacMillan, a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of them.
"Ernie!" she nudged him with a hiss.
"What?"
"Looook, Hermione's going for Harry."
He followed her gaze.
"She's got legs," he remarked, "not at all bad either."
"Ernie, not as good as mine I hope."
"No dear, especially when yours are wrapped about me."
Padma giggled.
"I hope that's a proper compliment."
"Of course it is. Come on, let's go and make love" he said formally.
Padma giggled again.
"I love it when you say that, it's so romantic" she giggled for a third time.
A lot of people found Padma's giggle annoying. For Ernie it sent a pleasant shiver through him.
She rolled over and sat up, gathering her books. With the short skirt she wore it made a very pleasant view for Ernie.
"Come on then Ernie MacMillan, come and make love to Padma."
"Look at that mudblood Granger." Goyle nudged Malfoy who was staring up at the sky, dreaming of Yiselda Blowhorn and her long blonde hair.
"What?" he rolled over.
"She's off with Potter."
"Well, well, so our mudblood's feeling randy."
"It would be like taking a book to bed and a boring one at that" said Crabbe.
Draco chuckled. "Very good Crabbe. Yeah, lots of small print and no action."
He watched her go.
"I wouldn't mind being her first, show her a bit of Slytherin mastery."
"But she's a mudblood," pointed out Goyle.
"So? Hopefully she'd get up the stick, be expelled and then I'd have her and the baby committed to St Mungo's."
They all laughed.
The Slytherin laughter followed them down the hill toward the forest.
"It's much more fun when it's not for lessons." said Harry as they neared the forest edge.
"Is it?" asked Hermione.
"I think it is."
Damn damn damn blast, Hermione shouted at herself.
I should have said 'it is, isn't it Harry, 'specially with you helping'.
They reached the edge of the wood and wandered in.
Of course, things can happen when your minds are on something else. Harry and Hermione's clearly were as neither had bothered to draw a wand. They trekked through the undergrowth, Hermione wondering vaguely whether a short dress was the ideal clothing for such a task.
A Knargle suddenly reared up in front of them, its razor sharp claws at the ready, and its body armour proof against most spells. Mouth wide; showing its three rows of serrated teeth, it screeched its war cry.
Hermione screamed.
Harry grabbed his wand. "Endus Internium Knargle!"
He blasted the creature with the single spell and it exploded in a mass of skin, armour, bone and green blood, splattering everything in the area, including themselves.
"Yeuchh!"
Hermione found herself grabbing Harry.
"Well blasted!"
"Luck."
She pressed her head to his shoulder, ignoring the gore.
"Still, well done."
Harry found his arm about his friend's waist whilst he gazed vacantly at the tree filtered sun.
Maybe ….
"Where did you learn that spell?" asked Hermione, "Knargles are impervious against most magic."
"Hmm? Err ... Hagrid."
Blast, bother, bother, bugger it. Why didn't I say 'you smell nice my hero'?
They moved apart.
"Ughh, we're all messy," Hermione drew her wand, "Scourgify!"
They were instantly clean once more.
"I really must learn that one, it could save me hours," he commented.
"Pop to my room one night and I'll teach it you, it's in the movement of the wrist," she volunteered.
That's better! More of that!
"I'll remember that" he grinned.
Bother remembering Harry! Come and knock on my door!
"Maybe we should move further down the hill, closer to Hagrid's hut," suggested Harry.
Hermione readily agreed and they backtracked rather rapidly to the forest edge and then walked slowly further down the slope, allowing pounding hearts to subside.
For a second time they ventured into the wood, demonstrating exaggerated caution.
"There's one!" Hermione pointed up into a tree at a growth of flowers.
Tallis flowers grow mainly on the trunk and bough rather than bud with the leaves.
"Great, it's twelve feet up." Harry grunted, "I'll have to climb."
There was a short pause.
"I am not stopping down here whilst you climb a tree," Hermione informed him, "It's your potion. You can take on the Doxys and Knargles."
Harry gave her a leg up to the first branch. Her body brushed over him, chest, waist, dress, bare leg. He stared straight ahead, determined not to look up. It wouldn't be gentlemanly.
"Harry?"
He looked up.
Oh my God! Her legs go all the way to her bottom and she's wearing light blue knickers. Oh my, think of Potions lessons with Snape!
"Yes?"
"Pink or white?"
"Blue."
"Pardon?"
Harry shook his head.
"Pink."
"Right."
Hermione picked the flowers, balanced on a branch and well aware of the view she was offering Harry.
I hope he likes it. Prim, huh! I bet I can flaunt it as well as the next girl. Well, provided she isn't a tart or a slapper or a Slytherin.
She descended carefully.
"Catch me then," she said.
Harry positioned himself.
"Go on then."
She jumped and he caught her, swinging round to take her momentum. They both laughed, her arm about his neck, his arm under bare thigh.
I am going to kiss her.
"Let me down, your shirt's rough on my leg" Hermione instructed him.
"Sorry."
He let her down.
Hermione you are pathetic, 'let me down, your shirt's rough...' why not 'Harry, what strong arms you've got'...
With the ingredients (bar one) collected, they walked back across the dreamy field.
"Whaddya reckon?" asked Crabbe.
"Couldn't get it up," Draco told him, "Either that or he had to write an essay on five magical uses for the penis first."
They laughed, loudly.
Hermione and Harry didn't notice; they were too wrapped up in each other to notice anything.
This is a brilliant plan. Harry thought.
Please Harry, ask me. Hermione dreamed.
"So, that's everything bar the mushrooms?" asked Harry, engrossed in his cunning plan.
Bother.
"Yep, we need to do that at midnight." Hermione walked as close as she could as they made their way back toward the main school.
They met in the Common Room. Just in case, Harry had his map and the Invisibility Cloak.
"What is a Plummer Mushroom?" he asked.
She sighed.
"It stands six to nine inches tall, has a purple head and a pinkish white stem," she recited.
"I only asked."
"You'll never get top marks in Herbology if you don't pay attention to detail. You need to be able to spot it, know how to treat it and pick it so it doesn't wilt before you've used it," Hermione lectured him, "what's the time?"
"Ten past eleven."
"We'd better get on with it."
He shook out the Cloak. Arms about each other, they made their way through the school and out into the night air. As they made their way across the lawns, careful in the dark, Harry was conscious that Hermione smelt rather nice. In fact she smelt very nice. Very nice indeed.
"You smell nice." he whispered.
"Do I?" she was secretly pleased. It was a muggle perfume, 'L'Air du Temps'. A present from her ever hopeful mother.
"Yes."
"Thanks."
Is that the best I can do? Why didn't I say, 'And you smell great as you are.'
Short of grabbing and kissing him, there was little else she could come up with.
She stumbled on a small tussock.
Harry tightened his grip, dragging her up, turning her so that they were face to face.
"Careful 'Mione."
On impulse she kissed him swiftly on the cheek.
"Thanks Harry."
He went to kiss her back but she turned away.
"We could do with a bit of light."
Bloody hell Hermione, stand still!
"It's too risky, even with the cloak."
She put her arm about him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Mind you, this is quite romantic."
"I suppose it is," he squeezed her tight about the shoulder; "we've never done this before like this."
We've never done anything before except stare at each other. They both thought at the same time.
Harry pulled off the cloak.
"Lumos," he said softly and his wand lit up the Strange-Herb Garden in a soft white light. The light gave Hermione an ethereal look.
"Hermione."
"Yes?"
"You look nice." he managed, taking in for the first time the tight, cream roll neck woollen jumper and equally tight black slacks, finishing in a slight flare. Given Hermione's curves her choice of clothes made her look all woman.
Blooming nice, In fact bloody fantastic.
He felt a surge in his groin.
She noticed his look and felt her stomach tighten.
Those eyes.
"Thanks," she replied.
Harry stared at her chest, her excitement and interest showing if he had but understood the signs.
Nipples! Oh wow, they look…I want to ... I'm going to explode! Say something!
"Really nice."
"Thanks I… there's one!" Hermione spotted one behind him as he raised his wand higher.
Idiot, idiot bloody silly damn blast and sod it.
"Well done!" Harry cried out in relief.
They studied the strange upright mushroom.
"Odd shape." said Harry.
"I think it's rather… interesting." Hermione told him.
"How do you pick it?"
"Well, it seems a girl is best suited to pick it, it's less likely to wilt."
Harry watched as his Best Friend's fingers ran gently up and down the stalk of the mushroom three times. It seemed to shudder. Her hand reached the dew touched grass and suddenly jerked upward.
Harry winced. His interest had suddenly run to hide.
The mushroom came out in her hand as the Great Clock chimed twelve.
"Yeuchh!" spat Hermione, "my hand's all wet and sticky."
Act The Third
It was Sunday.
Harry was up early, eager to progress the potion.
Hermione was in the Common Room, looking tired but exhilarated.
She wore a pretty green skirt with an Oxford collar white blouse and a blossom from a Vanda orchid in her hair. The small cauldron sat bubbling, giving off a very pleasant aroma. The Tallis flowers lay next to it.
"Sorry I'm late," he started.
God you look nice. I love the flower.
His eyes strayed to her blouse as he wondered if…
"I've done it" she smiled at him, "a potion mixed and stirred at daybreak."
"Great! So what's next?"
"We wait until midday, stir it again and then cast the spell over it. It'll be ready to go by half twelve."
"Brill Hermione, brill."
I like this plan.
"Shall we go for a walk, it's a nice day."
Say yes.
"That'd be great. Haven't you any reading to catch up on?"
"No, no. I thought it would be nice for you and me to go for a walk together."
Hooray!!!! I said it.
"Great!" Harry was enthusiastic, "you can tell me all about Mad Tiberius Korke and the bid to populate Uranus."
"Harry!"
"Only joking 'Mione."
Yesssssss ….
They walked out into the sun. There were few about this early, only the early risers and the late-going-back-to-the-dormers.
They walked across the grounds, chatting at a rather inane level, heading to the Stoned Garden.
Had they noticed, they were not alone.
Susan Bones was sitting on a limestone lintelled bench, reading The Daily Prophet.
She glanced up at their self absorbed approach. Her face split into a big smile.
"Morning, Harry, Hermione" said the Hufflepuff, catching them off guard.
"Oh, hi," Hermione replied.
She spotted the look of hero worship she gave Harry.
And frowned.
I wonder.
"Hi Sue" Harry greeted her warmly, "umm, err, nice day."
At his stumbled words The Green Eyed Goddess peered out of Hermione's eyes.
All of her angst ridden fears reared up in glorious technicolour.
It's her, the Hufflepuff bitch. Why was I so stupid! She's prim and boring and and and!
Hermione's insecurity overrode her intelligence.
I'll sort Him out, see if I don't. It won't take much to alter the spell.
The rest of the walk was made in a strange silence.
Harry poured the potion into a measure glass. It smoked a sort of purple colour.
"It's ok?" he asked.
"Harry!" Hermione sounded cross, "since when?"
"Here we go!" he drained the potion.
"Hmm, I can taste the strawber ..." he burped. A small cloud of green smoke issued from his mouth, "'scuse me."
Hermione smiled.
Good, this'll teach you.
God, I feel weird.
Harry found himself heading out of the building.
Why he didn't know, since it was Hermione he wanted to chat up. The trouble was he was being driven by a magical imperative he wasn't party to.
There's Alicia Spinnet, God she looks a right tart in that skirt, just what I want.
He lurched across the lawn toward the unsuspecting girl dressed in a short black skirt and white smock top, tight across her chest.
"Hi!"
She turned.
"Harry!" she smiled.
"You look a right tart in that gear, fancy coming with me and giving my wand an outing?"
"What did you say!" her face narrowed.
"Let me into your knickers and I'll slip you a couple of Galleons."
Smack! Smack!
"Well! You've been drinking!"
She stormed off, leaving Harry nursing a well slapped face.
That didn't work right, mind you 'let me in your knickers' was a bit tame. Maybe I should have offered ten Galleons.
He looked about. A lot of the students, like Alicia, weren't wearing robes but the usual mixture of wizard and muggle fashion.
He spotted Luna Lovegood.
Looney'll give it up for me, with her looks she must be desperate.
He weaved determinedly toward her.
Hermione appeared at the main door.
"That friend of yours, Potter!" snapped Alicia walking past her angrily.
"What?"
"He called me a tart and then asked me to drop my knickers for two Galleons"
She stormed off.
Hermione watched her go.
Look in the mirror dearie.
Still, it's working.
She moved into the sunlight to see Harry lurch up to Luna.
"Hi there Luna, how yer goin'?" he asked.
"Fine Harry, contemplating Green Fanged Haggagebandlars" she replied airily.
"Why don't you contemplate my wand, it's pleased to see you."
"You what?"
"That's a nice pair of knees you got there, how about I get down between them and see you shagged?"
"You what!!" her eyes were like saucers.
"It's the best offer you'll get, with looks like that your best chance is with a Green Fanged Haggagebandlar."
Luna kneed Harry very firmly in the balls.
"Well really!" she snapped.
Harry was too busy kneeling on the grass to watch her go.
Hermione hid her laugh behind her hand.
Ginny Weasley slipped into Hermione's room.
There sat the Chat-Up Potion.
She scribbled a note for Hermione.
Just had to try it, Ginny xx
"Yes" she told the walls and swallowed a measure.
"Strawberry... 'scuse me." She belched pink smoke and grabbed the table top.
"Bloody Nora."
She shook her head. The room went away and came back again.
Why am I wearing this crap dress if I'm on the pull? I need to get changed.
Harry picked himself up, driven by a compulsion. He spotted Susan Bones, sitting on a bench. He staggered to her.
"Harry!" Her face spread into a welcoming smile.
"I've a rock hard wand I want to bury in your snitch" he declared.
Her smile faded.
"Pardon?"
"Let's go upstairs and let me fuck you rigid."
Slosh, smack! Harry was lifted off his feet.
She backhanded him twice, once with each hand. She wasn't in Hufflepuff's Quidditch team for nothing
Hermione snorted with laughter.
That sorted that out.
Harry wandered purposefully, looking for his next target.
Cho!
Look at her, tight traditional dress, whinging about Cedric instead of going about the business of satisfying the male of the species.
"Cho!"
"Harry darling" she smiled.
If anything here needs stuffing, it's her.
"Hi babe, fancy riding my broomstick to ecstasy and back?"
"Harry?"
There was worry in her almond eyes.
"Your face is all red Harry."
"I fancy some red hot action in your knickers Cho!"
He grabbed her at the hips.
She shrieked and her nails raked across his face.
"Harry, you're drunk!"
Hermione nearly wet herself and ignored the alarm bells at the back of her head.
Harry shook his head and spotted Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and a bunch of other entirely unattractive Slytherins.
Yes, I'll have the lot!
He moved in range.
"Potter?" sneered Pansy.
"Your tits are like pillows I want to bury my head in."
"Oh yeah?"
"Your arse is a valley for me to plough."
"Huh?"
"I reckon I could have the whole lot of you and still have time for Ginny Weasley, she's class."
"Get the fucker!" shouted Pansy
Hermione watched in horror as they fell upon Harry.
She took a deep breath and turned away.
Still, he deserved it.
She absolved herself.
Ginny approached Draco Malfoy.
"Hi Slythy Malfy..." she breathed.
"Talking to me?" Draco, taken aback, lost his edge. Apart from her manner, it was the tight black dress with the split to the thigh that caught his eye.
Is that a bloody stocking top? Weasley in stockings?
She adopted an appalling American accent that was entirely lost on Malfoy (who thought America was a muggle brand of coffee.)
"Is that a wand in your pants or are you pleased to see me?"
"You what?"
Crabbe and Goyle stood up, ready to protect their hero from this predatory female.
Ginny tried again.
"Is it true what they say about Slytherin men?"
"What's that?" he demanded.
"Their snake is always a bit soft?"
"You what!" his eyes narrowed. Crabbe and Goyle stepped closer.
"Are you there with Gryffindor men, who can keep it up all night?"
Malfoy worked out what she was getting at.
"Are you questioning our prowess Weasley?"
"Ginny, Draco, Ginny to you. Yes I am. Have you got the meat and two veg to take me on?"
"Me?"
"Yes you, I like some brains with my men, so your two gorillas don't make it."
Draco looked at her strangely.
She sighed and grabbed him in the crotch.
"Something in there for a little girl to play with if you've got the balls, Draco."
"I've got the balls, and I've got the room, W ... Ginny," Draco replied. He wasn't going to miss a chance to have her even if she had been drinking, chewing dried mandrake sticks or whatever.
"You two get lost," he told his bodyguards.
Harry made it back to the bathroom and shoved some tissue up his nose to quench the bleeding. He inspected his black eye; he'd have to get Hermione to repair his glasses.
So much for great ideas and subtle plans. He checked the sides of his face. There was a nice set of red marks from the fingernail rake Cho had given him. He sighed and filled the sink.
Draco helped Ginny's top off and took in her breasts, held in a bra that demanded to be released.
How can any girl look so good?
To his surprise his hand made only a tentative move to touch her lace encased chest.
"Draco …" she whispered.
Draco had a problem.
She's beautiful, she really is. What the hell do I do?
"Draco?"
"We … sorry, Ginny?"
"Are you going to have me or is it back to Gryffindor Tower?"
Oh Merlin.
"Ginerva, I am going to have you, as hard as it needs to be."
"Thank Merlin for that."
They suddenly crushed together.
"Blimey We ...Ginny, that's good." Draco managed.
Ginny couldn't answer the compliment as she currently held Draco Malfoy's elegant ivory pole in her mouth, her tongue causing him pleasurable grief, whilst her red painted nails carefully pressed into its base.
"Merlin's tits We... Ginny, where did you learn that?"
"Mmnff mm mnn hhmphh..." she replied, giving Draco a subtle nibble.
He groaned.
"You witch" he said, truthfully.
"Mmnnhh." she replied.
This is good, this is bloody good. Hopefully Weasley won't cry out 'Praise the Dark Lord' either, as Pansy does at the moment of triumph, it's so bloody disconcerting.
Draco grunted, feeling her fingers delicately tease the root of his tree. His lap was a sea of flame red hair and his groin had become one big pleasure park. His heart was pounding strangely.
Oh Merlin, she is something else, and a Pureblood, those eyes, that hair.
She pulled her head back and looked up.
"So, what do you think to a Gryffindor witch?"
She glimpsed his eyes and was surprised at what she saw.
"Draco?" she asked.
"He pushed her head back to his quivering part.
"Ginny, please" he rasped thickly. "Don't stop!" his fingers twined into her flame red hair and he groaned.
She didn't, a cat waiting for cream.
The cream arrived as did a sudden velvet wave that rolled over her.
A satisfied cat. Or was that lion?
Act The Fourth.
Hermione sat on the settee, hugging her knees; feet perched on the cushion edge.
"You ok?" asked Ginny.
"Ginny!" Hermione was off of the sofa in an instant.
Ginny moved somewhat stiffly.
"You're alright?" asked Hermione.
What the hell's she wearing?
"Yes, fine, that potion was a bit strange though..."
"A bit strange Ginny, it was all wrong!"
"Pardon."
"I sabotaged it Ginny!"
"Sabotaged it, why?"
"I didn't want Harry chatting up some other girl rather than me!"
Ginny frowned.
"But that was what it was for, so he could chat you up."
There was a long pause as a penny dropped.
Clunk.
"Me!" squeaked Hermione, "but he said it wasn't me."
"That was all part of the plan! Harry made a plan, like you do."
"Oh no!" wailed Hermione, "what have I done! And I want to go out with him more than anything in the world."
Ginny stared at her.
"I dropped you a hint as well."
"Did you?"
"Prim."
"Me! Prim?"
Ginny nodded.
"You, prim. Believe me."
"I'm not prim! Studious, serious but not prim. I kissed Victor."
Ginny showed an amount of exasperation. She looked at the carpet and then into Hermione's worried face. She took a deep breath.
"Hermione, are all muggles like you and Harry?"
"What do you mean, in what respect?"
"Do-you-not-have-sex-before-you-get-married?" Ginny asked and waited a moment, "there, I've said it."
Hermione managed a passable impression of a goldfish.
"Of course we do!"
"Well, what's wrong with you then? This is the time of our lives! No parents, no worries..."
Another penny dropped.
"Have you ...done it?" Hermione managed, in disbelief.
Little Ginny?
Ginny had the grace to redden slightly.
"Yes, frequently" she tossed her head, hair swishing.
"Ohhh, this is too much." Hermione slumped back onto the sofa.
"With Harry?" she asked faintly.
"Didn't you listen?" snapped Ginny. "I think half of the girls in this school would let Harry, but he only has eyes for you."
"Cho? What about her?"
"That was more like a brief infatuation borne out of Cedric's death."
Hermione rubbed her eyes with her hands.
"Ginny?"
"Yes?"
"I don't know."
There was a long silence that ventured into the awkward.
"Harry is going to kill me."
"Figuratively, not literally." Ginny reminded her.
"I suppose I am prim, bookish and boring and a know it all" she said tiredly.
"But you're clever, loyal and dependable."
There was a pause.
"Great. Here lies Hermione Granger, clever loyal and unloved. Huh." The sarcasm was evident.
"Pardon?"
"It's an epitaph," she sighed, her thoughts in the future, "when you die they write it on your gravestone."
"Oh, right," Ginny didn't really understand, "so, what happened to Harry?"
"He tried to chat up half of Hogwarts girls, including Pansy Parkinson and a load of Slytherins and got bashed up for his pains."
"I suppose he's ok." Ginny asked, concerned.
"Well he's walking. I haven't dared find out." Hermione sounded flat.
"I think you should."
"I can't."
"Yes you can, you can tell him the truth and say sorry."
"And that'll sort it. You know Harry."
"I thought you did. Better than I." Ginny pointed out.
"I do, I suppose…. anyway, what happened to you?" Hermione changed the subject to give her mind a breather.
"It was really odd; I drank the potion so I could chat up Michael."
"Ginny?"
She shrugged. "I'm a sucker for big eyes."
"And?"
"Well first of all I was wearing a pretty dress, the floral one that I know he likes. Then all of a sudden I had this urge to change it for stockings and well, this. Then, I found myself chatting up Garth Fellowes!"
"You can't stand him!"
"And then Vince Tollerton."
"Yeuchh, Ginny."
"And then, well, let's just say it was interesting. I think I've found the love interest in my life."
Though next time he casts 'Erecto Perpetualis' I'm using 'Vulvus Continuum'. That'll show him.
"Go on!"
"No, not today. Maybe when you come and tell me all about you and Harry doing it."
Fat chance.
"Spoilsport."
Hermione held out her hand.
"You can slap my wrist."
"Me? I think that's Harry's job."
"Harry smack me, I don't think so."
"I don't see why not so, you did get him beaten up."
"Ginny, being smacked is demeaning."
"I thought that was the general idea Hermione. You do something wrong and get smacked."
Hermione studied her wrist.
"I've never been smacked."
Ginny's eyes widened.
"Never?"
"Not ever."
"Well you are a goody goody then aren't you?"
Hermione winced at the emphasis. She realised there was an element of contempt in Ginny's voice.
I can't help it if I don't do naughty things; it doesn't make me boring, does it?
"I suppose you have then."
"Of course, on a fair few occasions."
"I can't imagine your dad..."
"..try mum."
"Molly?!"
Hermione considered. Molly certainly had a temper.
"I don't mean we're always being smacked, but there are a lot of us and we are..."
"..a handful," interrupted Hermione with a sudden grin.
"And me being the only girl." Ginny lowered her voice, not that there was anyone else in the room.
"I've had three proper spankings, y'know, where you..." she saw Hermione's blank look, "you don't know do you..." she trailed, "well the first was for bullying Ron."
"Bullying Ron!"
"I used to hit him all the time and he wouldn't hit me back cause I was a girl. So mum did it for him, across her knee, on my bare bottom with a hairbrush. I shouted the house down it stung so much …and it was just so embarrassing."
Bare bottom! Hairbrush! I can't imagine it.
"I bet."
"It was. The second was for mixing two potions and drinking them..."
"..Ginny, you didn't!"
"I did. I was told not to do such a thing so I did. Unfortunately one was granddad's medicine that had cost three Galleons from Gruntingthorpe and Chalmers and the other was mum's anti-baby potion. As there weren't any side effects, I had an alternative side effect demonstrated," she finished ruefully, "and that one did hurt. I'd managed to pick mum and dad's wedding anniversary."
Even Hermione could work that one out.
"Whoops."
If someone did that to me, could I sit down for a week?
Ginny nodded. "Whoops. I couldn't sit down for a week."
"And the third?"
Ginny reddened.
"No... that's enough. Wait 'til you've been spanked."
"I've no intention of being..." Hermione trailed off.
She considered, pulling at a curl of her ever exploding hair.
"So if Harry spanked me that would be retribution for me getting him beaten up?" she spoke slowly, going over the implications.
"Yes, I mean it's not as if he'd enjoy it." Ginny scored high for naiveté, "probably not anyway. I can't see Harry enjoying making you cry, not really," She trailed off thoughtfully, "not Harry."
"Cry?" Hermione whispered.
Cry, because of the pain or the humiliation or both?
Her imagination failed her again.
There was a long pause, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire.
Hermione cleared her throat that seemed to have gotten rather dry during her furious thinking.
"Ginny?"
"Hmm?"
"So, I get him to sit down, and then I bend over his knee and get him to smack my bottom with a hairbrush?"
Easy isn't it, once you work it out.
Ginny considered.
"So you're going to let Harry lift your skirt and pull down your underwear?"
"Certainly not!" Hermione snapped, "he isn't touching my underwear."
"Why ever not? Don't you want to sleep with him?"
"Well, I," Hermione stopped. She had not really got that far. The filing cabinet drawer had never been fully opened.
Sleep with him, have him lying on top of me and pushing his thingie into me. It's my body, do I want that? Do I?
Oh God.
There was another silence. A smile played across Ginny's face.
I do don't I. I really do, I'm just not prepared to admit it.
"…Ahh," she started to speak, "umm …"
"You've gone bright red."
"Ginny, this isn't easy. It is my virginity we're talking about."
"You're just making it difficult. Somehow I can't see you or Harry putting it about. It is him you want, isn't it?"
"Yes." Hermione spoke softly into the pause.
"Well then. Get on with it" she gestured, "come here."
Hermione did as she was told.
"Try over my knee."
"Well, I suppose you deserve to smack me as well."
Ginny laughed.
"I'm not smacking you; you'd probably give me detention."
Hermione giggled.
"That would look good in the Report Book."
How do you bend over someone's knee with a modicum of grace?
She knelt at Ginny's side.
No, that doesn't work.
She stood up.
"Put your hand on my knee and lower yourself over." Ginny suggested.
"So where does my bottom go?"
"In the middle, sticking up."
Oh God, this is not going to be good.
She carefully lay over Ginny's lap. The position meant her legs were stretched out, her toes looking for purchase; whilst her arms, locked supported her, stopped her head touching the carpet.
This is horrid. I... what is she doing!
To Hermione's horror Ginny lifted her dress and dragged her knickers down her thighs.
"Ginny!" her hand flew back to cover her rear whilst she pressed her thighs together.
"See, you need to lift your skirt first."
Hermione slid back down onto her knees and looked up at Ginny.
"I'll have to go and practice."
They stared at each other.
Only Hermione would practice being punished.
"So, what are you going to say to Harry?"
"I don't know, 'sorry Harry, I deliberately got you beaten up.' That's a great start."
"Come on Hermione, you can do better than that. And stop feeling sorry for yourself. You got yourself into this mess."
"I know, I know."
Don't I just.
Hermione sat in her room, staring at her dressing table mirror. She stared at it, a total blank, trying to assess the situation.
I don't know what to do. This might be my one chance. Who am I to look at? Crap hair, big teeth and floppy great boobs.
Do I jump in his bed, Plan A?
Do I go for Ginny's plan? That can be Plan B.
She pulled out her desk chair and piled some cushions on it.
"Harry" she addressed the pillows, fiddling with her hem line "I've something to say."
She adjusted her dress again, undoing the top button. She'd changed her outfit. The dress was easier to take off.
And lift up.
Hermione Granger took a deep breath and quelled her shaking heart.
Act The Fifth
There was a soft tap on Harry's door.
"Come in." he called.
It was Hermione, looking worried. Wonderful but worried.
"Well that didn't go to plan" he said ruefully.
She was in front of him, tears in her eyes. Her fingers touched his bruised cheek and swollen lip.
"Harry, I'm sorry. It's my fault. And Harry, will you go out with me?"
"Fault? Go out? Me?" he asked, "as in go out together? You and me?"
"Yes, as in hold hands, 'kiss me like I've never been and continue to the bedroom scene'." She quoted the potion spell.
When Hermione went for it, she didn't mess about.
Harry's mouth fell open.
"You and me?"
"Yes."
His face split into the biggest grin she'd ever seen.
Ohwowohwowohwowwowwow.
"Can I kiss you?"
"That's the general idea."
He moved his battered face to hers and kissed her tentatively on the lips.
"There" he said, "sorry but my lip's a mess."
"Harry!" wailed Hermione, bursting into tears and throwing her arms about him.
"Not too tight." he told her, "bruised side."
That only made her cry even more.
Long minutes passed.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"Could you repair my glasses?"
She drew back and smiled at him.
"That's how we met." She pointed out.
"You knew more about me than I did."
She picked up her wand.
"Occulus Reparo." she uttered.
Harry positioned the glasses on his face, trying not to touch his black eye.
"That's better, I can see you properly."
Even with her tear stained face the object of his desires looked fantastic, and in that short muggle dress again.
I wonder if she's got those pale blue knickers on.
"Harry?"
"What's wrong?" he detected her tone, surely she wasn't going to change her mind and make it the shortest relationship on record.
"I've something to tell you Harry."
Alarm bells were ringing.
"You've another boyfriend?" he suggested.
"No, no, worse than that..."
"Worse?" He searched his imagination. "You've done the bedroom bit?"
"Harry! No I have not! No ... It's nothing like that."
"What then?"
"You're going to be cross with me."
"I am?"
She nodded and took his hand.
Here we go. Deep breath.
"I altered the potion so it would go wrong" she blurted.
"What!"
"I was jealous; I thought you were going to chat up Susan Bones so I altered the spell."
"Hermione! Susan Bones?" Harry touched his face, digesting the information, "so all this was due to that?"
"I'm sorry, so sorry Harry; don't be too angry with me."
She looked at his face as various emotions flicked across it. He glanced at the ceiling and then burst out laughing.
"So much for plans" he grinned at her.
"You don't mind?" she was incredulous
"Oh I mind, I can't even kiss you at the minute, but it's still got a funny side."
"If I was you I'd..."
"....I know exactly how you'd've reacted, but that's you and this is me."
The object of his desires kissed him on the cheek.
Here we go, Plan A.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"Take me to bed."
There was a pause as Harry digested the request.
"As in..?" He trailed.
"As in taking clothes off together sort of bed."
He looked at her and their eyes held each other.
"No," he said simply.
Her eyes widened.
"No? Harry, don't you want to have me, umm, with no clothes on? Harry?" It was almost a whine.
"Of course I do 'Mione, but tonight, it wouldn't be right. Besides, I can't kiss you, my face is a mess and my side's killing me."
Hermione sighed. That was Plan A out of the window.
"When will it be right?"
"We'll know" he said enigmatically.
"We can sit on the bed though can't we?"
"Course."
And they did so.
They sat on the edge of the bed, touching, arms about each other, in companionable silence as all of the last few years thoughts about each other slid gently past.
Harry's mind whirled. A tampered potion, a contrite Hermione, a girlfriend.
And she wants to do it with me.
He looked down at her legs, knees demurely together, Hermione's legs.
Lying on top of her, thighs, wrapped round mine.
Harry!
He couldn't picture it. Hermione with no clothes on.
I bet she looks fantastic. Will she like me with nothing on, I'm hardly Oliver Wood.
Will she whisper my name?
"Harry?"
"Hmm." He sat with a pleasant glow across his whole body. A feeling of peace he couldn't yet understand.
Hermione went for Plan B.
"Spank me." her voice was suddenly hoarse and she felt herself tremble as she got the words out.
Harry nodded absently.
"If you want" he said.
Hermione stood and crossed to his dressing table. He watched her move, her legs, her rear under the dress, the gentle sway of her hips, her hair bouncing slightly. Hermione in a different light. His girlfriend.
Dumdedumdedumdedum, dumdedumdedumdum.
Hermione placed her wand on top of a book before she studied his dressing table and spotted the flaw in her plan, there was no hair brush. Harry used a comb.
I am getting fed up with Plans!
She spotted his clothes brush.
It's a bit big but it'll have to do.
Here we go, keep it together Hermione!
She turned, clothes brush in her shaking fingers.
Harry sat there with a silly grin.
Let's get this started before he realises what he's doing and says no.
She was by his side, placing the clothes brush by his hand, hooking her hair over her ear. To his amazement she bent at the knees, pressed one hand on his thigh and then lay down over and across his thighs, her bottom proud. She had hitched up her dress to reveal a pair of blue knickers that he had seen before. With surprising dexterity she slid the underwear down her thighs and calves, leaving Harry to stare at her bare and rather lovely curvy bottom.
What did she ask me to do?
"Hermione?" he asked faintly.
"Do as I told you Harry, spank me with the brush; thirty six should do" she told him sternly.
Harry picked up the clothes brush. He studied it quizzically.
Maybe it's a Granger family ritual.
"'Mione, are you sure about this?"
"Harry!" Her voice was slightly muffled by her hair, "If you don't I'll never speak to you again."
She failed to see the irony of the statement.
The room seemed very warm to Harry. It all seemed a bit odd.
Well, what do I do?
Hermione stared at the carpet, aware without seeing, of his gaze on her rump. She too felt, strange.
"Harry!" she growled.
I s'pose.
"Yow!" She gasped as the brush suddenly landed with a sharp smack across her left buttock.
"Sorry, did it hurt?" he asked worriedly.
"It's supposed to Harry, please get on with it."
So Harry Potter spanked his girlfriend.
Thwack! ...yow! ...smack! ...oww! ...smack! ... Ahh!
After half a dozen her bottom had started turning a burning red. One foot lifted from the floor as she grunted at his effort.
This is awful, humiliating and it hurts.
He landed more, some landing on top of previous blows and stinging mightily.
Hermione felt tears trickle.
Another landed, catching her bottom perfectly. She jerked and a sob escaped. Her thighs, which had been carefully clenched, slid apart across his lap.
Harry, brush raised, stared at this sight before him. He was already finding smacking Hermione, interesting, to say the least, but this...
I can see. I can see those bits. Oh my, oh my.
He became aware of her soft sobbing and the twitch of her thighs and rear.
"Harry, get it over with." Her voice was hoarse.
The clothes brush swung down again.
Hermione squealed, swallowing some bile. A tear dripped to the carpet.
So this is pain.
Her buttocks and tops of her thighs were on fire. She knew he could see her private parts.
This had better be worth it.
She screwed her wet eyes shut.
This really is pain. I need the toilet.
Everything was so sore and sensitive the slightest touch stung and it wasn't a soft touch she was receiving.
She cried out again, her foot lifting once more.
"Thirty five." she heard him say.
If I don't get the Healing Charm right this is going to be really awful.
The last one hurt the most, whether he had put more weight behind it, whether it landed just right: Hermione jerked up with a full blooded scream.
"Thirty six."
Harry threw the brush down and sat there bemused. Across his lap the love of his dreams wriggled and sobbed where he'd beaten her, at her request, and he found himself strangely excited. He stared at her bottom that burned an angry, sore red and wanted very much to kiss it better.
Into the silence there was the sound of their breathing and Hermione's weeping.
Time passed.
Well Hermione, thank god you're a good girl, I couldn't go through that again. Funny thing though. It hurts like hell but there's something else...
Carefully she eased off of his lap, pulling down her dress and retrieving her knickers. She stood on trembling legs. There was something starting to smoulder within her.
Harry's face was red and had concern written all across it.
He looked into her tear stained face and suddenly realised what love was.
Hermione couldn't fathom his look but liked what she saw.
"Harry!" She flung her arms about him and kissed him heavily, but carefully, on the un-bruised parts of his face and lips.
He stood up and put his arms about her. She sagged gratefully into his arms. They embraced for a quiet age, turning slowly across the floor.
Inside Hermione could feel a fire burning.
"You smell nice" he told her.
"Harry?" she whispered, reaching for her wand, "take me to bed."
He opened his mouth to reply...
The curtain falls upon our humble Entertainment.