A/N: Here's the final chapter, in which Harry and Hermione reflect on the effects of the Sixth Week Entertainment shows, with particular attention on the personal fallout for Draco and Professor Snape. Plus, things will end with actual NC17 sex! The usual warnings are given also for humor in very poor taste, including some of a scatological variety, but nevertheless hopefully very funny. A very brief epilogue is included.
Possibly I should have noted this earlier, but obviously this has been and now ends as an AU story, insofar as Book Six is concerned, e. g. Snape still teaches Potions and Fudge is MoM.
If readers have enjoyed this even slightly as much as I've enjoyed writing it, then I'll consider it to have been successful. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, and please enjoy this final chapter.
Chapter 8: Fallout from the Show
Extraordinary things happened following the Gryffindor Sixth Year Follies, with the first fallout occurring on Friday, the day after the show, and it was more than just a little bizarre.
Caretaker Argus Filch, utterly deaf to the sarcasm dripping from "The Caretaker Song" pastiche of Gilbert and Sullivan, had decided that its singer, Neville Longbottom, was the only student at Hogwarts with an appreciation for the finer points of a subject near and dear to his heart, "Proper School Discipline."
Whenever he spotted Neville, he would approach him with a hideous grin plastered on his face, grasp Neville's hand, and shake it vigorously, all the while thanking him profusely for his wonderful performance.
All that day, whenever Neville managed to avoid him, Filch would buttonhole any other student unfortunate enough to be near him in the halls, and extol young Longbottom's genius, musical ability, and generally excellent character. To Neville's utter mortification, that night at dinner, Draco Malfoy loudly re-christened him "Mrs. Filch." Very soon, he would regret doing so, as he would have to learn to deal with his own seemingly inexplicable "Filch" situation, not to mention considerably greater embarrassment from a different source.
On Friday evening, the day after the final show, Hermione Granger faced a serious dilemma, concerning the fourth year and younger Gryffindors, who had not been permitted to attend the Entertainment Week programs. A large delegation of them braced her in the common room, and they demanded an impromptu encore performance of their house's show. She was slightly miffed to discover that all they really wanted to see and hear, aside from Neville's song about Filch, was its second part, the comedy act of Ron and Harry, plus the Judge and the Dressmakers skit.
At first, she refused, claiming all of it to be unsuitably risqué for their ages. When it was pointed out that practically everyone in the entire school, regardless of year, had been talking about nothing else for the entire day, albeit with garbled secondhand versions of some of the jokes sometimes being related, she went into a huddle with Lavender and Parvati. After all was said and done, including a few choice glares directed at Harry from the three witches, it was decided to go ahead, provided that any younger students who might be offended would leave. Not a single one did.
To a literally packed common room, since most of the fifth and seventh years wanted to see it again, the sixth year class Gryffindors did the second half of the show again, to great laughter and applause from all of their housemates. The lack of the stage lighting, sound, costumes, and props did nothing to diminish the fun and enjoyment experienced by all.
Early the next day, Harry and Hermione decided to do something about Neville's "Caretaker Filch" situation. They had collaborated in writing the song performed by him, so they came to Neville's rescue, in the form of transfiguring the original parchment manuscript of it into a large poster, complete with a handsome frame. The three of them paid a visit to Filch's office, autographed it, and presented it to him, "as a token their esteem for his longtime invaluable contributions to Hogwarts." Also, with a perfectly straight face, Harry apologized to Filch for any problems that he may have caused him over the years, and solemnly, they shook hands.
Just before they left a quite moved and teary-eyed Argus Filch, a genuinely frightful sight to behold, Hermione "accidentally" let slip a rumor that Draco Malfoy was planning massive hallway pranks in the immediate future, including - horrors - dung bombings, among other dastardly violations of school rules.
At a single stroke, they helped Filch to decide neither to continue to accost Neville at every opportunity, nor to add Harry and Hermione to his list of "students-to-thank-publicly-in-the-hallways-over-and-over-whenever-I-see-them." Rather, he shadowed Draco wherever he went for the whole weekend. On Monday, Draco forgot all about the omnipresent caretaker, because he started to receive large amounts of unsolicited owl mail, as did his Head of House, Professor Snape.
It began to arrive during lunch. A beautiful and familiar looking snowy owl unceremoniously dropped a small package in front of Draco and immediately departed. Upon opening it, Draco found himself the proud new owner of a large raw potato and a piece of parchment, on which were written the words, "Put it in the FRONT, Stupid!"
A very red-faced Draco glared in the direction of Harry and Ron, seated in their usual places at the Gryffindor table. Harry couldn't resist giving Draco a wave of his hand and a large wink, as Ron pointed with both of his forefingers toward his own lap.
The entire Great Hall burst into laughter, as the fifth through seventh years all recalled Harry's joke about Draco from the Gryffindor Show last Thursday. Quickly, it was retold to those few younger students who had not already heard it secondhand.
Then, another owl arrived, whose package contained a book on enlargement charms. In short order, over two dozen owls delivered to Draco Malfoy an assortment of potatoes and tight swim trunks, most in decidedly weird colors and some of which had the word "front" or "potato" neatly printed or embroidered on them. Also, he got several more charms books and even a bottle with a label proclaiming it to contain penis enlargement pills.
Just as the lunch break was ending, a pair of large Eurasian eagle owls struggled in, carrying between them an entire bushel basket of potatoes.
Professor Snape was subjected to slightly less vocal ridicule by the student body, but only because they couldn't tell precisely what he had received. While his haul of goodies was less massive than that of Draco's, his embarrassment was not a bit less.
The seven bottles of hand lotion were visibly obvious, and the students let him know in no uncertain terms that they recalled Harry's joke about him. But, they didn't realize that the collection of parchment mail included lifetime memberships in three "Lonely Hearts" clubs, and no less than five mail-order bride catalogs from assorted Eastern European and Asian addresses. Last, but not least, was a finely engraved and colorful gift certificate denominated as "Good For One Hour, Or However Long You Can Last." This was overprinted by rather jarringly contrasted bold block letters reading, "Ten Seconds." Purportedly, it was good for redemption at a dubious business establishment with the unlikely name of "Madame 'Le Grande Bum' Umbridge's House of Discipline and Therapeutic Full Body Massage."
The next day, Tuesday, saw even greater numbers of deliveries for Malfoy and Snape. In Draco's case, clearly more of his Muggle-born "fans" were making their feelings known, as a majority of their caring gifts included over a dozen assorted ointments and pills of the "male enhancement" type of Muggle medical quackery. Of course, yet more raw potatoes arrived, but also he received a couple of the classic Muggle toys, "Mr. Potato Head."
Snape's pile of loot had expanded to include tubes of K-Y Jelly, assorted competing "motion lotions," multiple gift subscriptions to various men's magazines, including the notorious hardcore transsexual/bondage periodical, Witches in Britches and Their Wizard Bitches, and assorted porn catalogs. He even received a few bottles of shampoo, all of the "for oily hair" variety.
Yet more similar goodies for both Malfoy and Snape arrived on Wednesday, but matters came to a head, figuratively AND literally, on Thursday. A rather surly and tired looking great horned owl, a North American close relative of the larger Eurasian species, delivered a mesh sack of rather suggestively shaped russet potatoes. Draco grabbed the nearest handy object, yet another large enlargement charms book, and threw it at the owl.
The owl's eyes dilated widely, and it clicked its beak twice, gave an eerily deep hooting sound, and then emitted a higher-pitched shriek. It took flight, and circled once around the high ceiling of the Great Hall. It dove at Draco at high speed, pulled up at the last second, and ejected its own very personal "gift" smack onto the middle of Draco's forehead.
The massive dropping hit with such force that it covered his forehead, and much of it dribbled down into his eyes, nose and mouth. Significant excess bits splattered onto the face of an unfortunate Pansy Parkinson, who had just turned to look at Draco in order to say something.
As the incensed owl flew off, Ron Weasley, delirious with laughter, mumbled something about having to go to the owlery to send a message to his brothers, and he left quickly.
The next day, Friday, in addition to still more tokens of admiration from the students, Draco and Snape each received a very special piece of "mail." Two very large owls entered the Great Hall, flew around it several times, and then they separated. Of note was that neither of them carried a package or a parchment envelope. Simultaneously, one dove at Malfoy and the other at Snape. Each cut loose exceptionally large globules of bird dirt at its recipient. Snape's owled scored a bulls-eye, hitting him dead center on his nose, admittedly a somewhat easy target, given its size. At the last second, Draco tried to dodge, but he was only partially successful. His owl's "present" landed on the side of his head, covering and getting into one ear, and its over-splash once again nailed the face of the unfortunate Pansy, who had picked that moment to try to whisper something to Draco in that particular ear. In the future, she would find a seat well away from Malfoy.
* * * * *
Late that night, Harry and Hermione found themselves alone in the Gryffindor common room, cuddled together and facing the large fireplace.
"I love you, Hermione," said Harry. "You do know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," said Hermione, "I love you too, and you told me that just a couple of minutes ago."
"I . . . I just wanted be absolutely certain that you knew," said Harry.
"Harry Potter," said Hermione, "I've already forgiven you for those jokes at my expense. What is it with all of this . . . this new 'romantic Harry,' whom you've become for the last week?"
"Well," said Harry, and with no small amount of reluctance, he related a brief synopsis of his conversation with Professor Flitwick on the evening of the show.
"No way, Potter!" exclaimed Hermione, "give with the DETAILS. I want to know exactly what were his 'six rules' . . . and do NOT leave anything out!"
Harry told her, and he was pleasantly surprised to see her nodding in agreement. She did frown slightly at Flitwick's 'Rule of Seven' regarding the guessing of ages and weights, but she didn't say anything until hearing the last rule, concerning 'letting her get on top once in a while,' and Harry's reply that she seemed to like it that way.
"What!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Well, you do, don't you?" said Harry, with a grin. "Besides, you haven't heard the good professor's response, which was that no man ever should argue with a beautiful woman who knows both what she wants and how she wants to get it! What better description could there be for a formerly bossy, sexless, little know-it-all who's become a bossy, incredibly sexy, and not so little know-it-all?"
Hermione blushed, and started to say something, but Harry interrupted her with a kiss. Just as he dropped a hand down to cup one of her breasts, a loud noise erupted.
An excited Ron Weasley landed at the bottom of the stairs. He ran to the large bulletin board and affixed to it a good-sized sheet of parchment. He turned and saw the couple on the couch.
"Well, I'm off on my prefect rounds, and I'm well supplied with copies of an important announcement to plaster all over the school," Ron said, flourishing a thick stack of parchment. "Here, take one," he ended as he handed a sheet to Hermione.
Without further ado, Ron exited the room through the entrance hole.
After looking back at Harry, desire plain on her face, Hermione glanced at the sheet. She started to toss it aside, but then she did a double take, and she began to read it more carefully. Harry put his head next to hers and read it also.
* * * * *
Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes ~ Number 93 Diagon Alley
Press Release: For Immediate Distribution
Subject: Why not say it with . . . bird droppings???
Have you ever wished for a means of expressing yourself more forcefully than that of ordinary owl mail or even via a howler? Well, your solution finally is at hand!
Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, Number 93 Diagon Alley, and coming soon to Hogsmeade, is pleased to announce a brand new and unique method of magical communication!
In proud association with Eeylops Owl Emporium, the old and highly respected experts in everything related to our beloved and hard working avian familiars, we announce the immediate availability of the "WWW Bomber" (magical trademark application pending).
Yes, when a howler just isn't adequate to convey your true feelings, why not have the mail-bird deliver its own special "message" to the recipient's face, head, or shoulder? After all, the bird is there, and it must take flight to leave, so why not have it pass directly overhead and lighten its load for the return trip by relieving itself of unneeded waste matter?
The first field trials have occurred already, in the very prank-demanding environment of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no less, and they made - pardon the expression - quite successful splashes!
To those who offer objections on the grounds of the "off-color" nature of the "WWW Bomber," we answer that very shortly, and for a modest additional fee, it will be possible to send ones that will be VERY colorful!
Through careful monitoring of the bird's diet, including special potion supplements, and our own magical expertise, owl droppings will be available in almost any color, including special combinations. Should you desire that your correspondent receive a pink "Bomber" with chartreuse polka dots, or a red and white striped one, shortly such will be available!
The possibilities are virtually endless, so be on the lookout for news of further developments and refinements. As a hint, just to whet the appetites of those with special requirements, we are researching presently in two areas of interest.
First, when a single "Bomber" isn't enough, how about an entire fleet?
Second, we are studying the use of other avian species, potentially for use as "Weapons of Mass Droppings" (WMDs). Someday soon, in partnership with overseas associates, we hope to offer much larger and longer range "Bombers" using birds such as Old and New World vultures, pelicans, albatrosses, and marabou storks. An attractive bonus from some of the large vulturine species is their capability of uncannily accurate projectile regurgitation. The fragrance of such is said be vastly worse than that of their droppings and more than capable both of emptying a large crowded room in seconds and of keeping it uninhabitable for weeks!
"BOMBER" SPECIAL INTRODUCTORY OFFER!
As a special introductory offer, we'll give a 10% discount to the first ten purchasers of a "Bomber" addressed either to the home or to the personal office of Mr. Cornelius Fudge, the undistinguished Minister of Magic!
WWW CONTINUING SPECIAL OF THE MONTH!
Hogwarts students of all years, remember to ask for an additional discount, should you intend to use one of our famous "Skiving Snackboxes" (mtm) to escape from a Potions class of any level!
As always, we remain your devoted suppliers of all things magically humorous, and vice versa, and we remind one and all that that we offer discounts both for quantity purchases and to currently enrolled student witches and wizards.
F. & G. Weasley, Proprietors
* * * * *
"What do those two prats think that they're doing!" Hermione exploded.
"Well," said Harry, "I believe that we witnessed the 'field trials' this afternoon. It seems that Fred and George made very quick work of the information that Ron obviously owled to them only yesterday."
"I think that they're going to get into trouble," Hermione said.
"So what?" said Harry, "besides, I believe that maybe you're just a little miffed that you didn't think of it first!"
"ME, upset over not thinking first of one of Fred and George's childish pranks?" said Hermione.
"Well, you do take pride in coming up with lots of ideas, do you not?" said Harry,
"That's true, but MINE are both creative AND worthwhile," replied Hermione, "for example, consider the show. You did enjoy yourself, Harry, didn't you."
"Certainly, it was great fun," said Harry, "and its aftermath, especially for Malfoy and Snape, has been even better. And, who can deny how worthwhile it's been to see those two gits at the receiving end of so many students, for a change!"
"Yes," said Hermione, "if he wasn't such a thorough-going, bigoted, and vicious little shit, I'd almost feel sorry for Draco. He must have enough potatoes by now to stock a fair sized fish & chips restaurant for a month!"
"I think it's great!" said Harry. He hesitated, and then he continued, "did you hear that even the Slytherins are starting to tell jokes about him, and about Snape?"
"Really?" said Hermione.
"Yep," said Harry. "There's a modestly funny riddle that goes, 'why does Professor Snape get frightened whenever he has sex?' - you haven't heard it yet, have you?"
"No," said Hermione.
"The answer is, 'because it's dark, and he's all alone!'"
Hermione giggled.
"There's a better joke about Malfoy," said Harry. "A small first year Slytherin wizard comes into their common room all excited. He says to his classmates that he's just seen Draco Malfoy get out of the shower in the Quidditch locker room, completely naked! He asked Draco what was the proper name for what he and all other boys had between their legs. Malfoy told him that its proper name was 'a penis,' but he wanted the youngster to understand that his 'Little Draco' was NOT just any common, ordinary penis; rather, it was 'a PERFECT penis!' One of his fellow first years seemed not to believe his classmate, and he asked him if what he said really was true. The first lad insisted that it was, and what's more, that if HIS OWN penis was only three inches shorter, then it would be 'perfect,' too!"
Hermione blushed, but she couldn't help but to laugh. "Uh, Harry," she said, with some hesitation, "I . . . I heard a 'Malfoy joke' also, and it's supposed to be true!"
"Well," said Harry, "are you going to tell it to me?"
"I don't know . . . it's not very nice, but it is . . . it's slightly funny."
"WELL?" said Harry.
"Okay," said Hermione. "It . . . it was a conversation between Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode, overheard by Luna Lovegood."
Harry rolled his eyes, but he indicated that Hermione should continue.
"Supposedly, Pansy said that Draco asked her to come into a broom closet with him, and not to worry, because it would only take a minute . . . and it did!" said Hermione.
Harry laughed, and added, "I wonder if that one minute included the foreplay?"
Hermione giggled, and said, "I suspect that Draco's idea of adequate foreplay is to say, 'take off those clothes, bitch!' or something similar."
Harry yelled, "ATTENTION! ATTENTION! Hermione Granger just made up and told a dirty joke! Either she's ill, or perhaps the world is about to come to an end!"
"Hey!" exclaimed Hermione, "that's not very nice. After all, I was the person who gave Ron and you the go ahead to tell your very naughty jokes in the show!"
"And a more brilliant idea or sounder judgment you've rarely had," said Harry. "Of course, I've always admitted that your ideas USUALLY are pretty good."
"Just WHAT do you mean by 'USUALLY,' Mr. Potter?" Hermione demanded.
Harry looked at her, and she glared back at him. He gave a resigned sigh, and he started to unfasten the front of his trousers.
"HARRY POTTER!" Hermione exclaimed, "what in bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
"Well, the last time a rather long and complicated conversation began with a very similar question from you, it ended rather nicely," said Harry, with a wide grin. "If it's all the same, why don't we skip the tedious argument, and get right to the oral sex!"
Hermione's mouth opened and closed. Then, she smiled, but only briefly, before a frown returned.
"Don't you DARE to take that out! What if some other person came into the room?" Hermione said.
"Well," said Harry, "if it's a wizard, he'll just have to wait until you're finished with me! If it's a witch, she'll have to wait until you're finished with me, and then for a little bit more!"
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione exclaimed, "how DARE you - " Hermione started to rant, but her words were cut off by Harry's mouth.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she started to push Harry away, but he was having none of it. Hermione gave in, by wrapping her arms around him, and before either of them realized it, she was lying on her back, with Harry atop her.
Finally, they broke off the kiss. Hermione reached down and felt the bulge in Harry's trousers, and she said, "oh my goodness, you REALLY want to end the argument before it begins! Well, I've always been a greater believer in conservation, and something like this," she said, as squeezed his erection, "DEFINITELY should not go to waste. Why don't we go to your room . . . right now!"
Harry neither needed nor wanted to hear anything else, and despite Hermione's mild protests, he picked her up and headed for the dorm stairs.
A short time later found them lying on his bed, with the curtains drawn closed around it. Clothing had been removed, if a bit frantically, and Hermione was on her back with Harry on his side next to her. Their mouths were planted firmly together, and Harry's hand was maneuvering between her legs. He slowly stroked the nerve and blood vessel rich areas of her inner thighs until, without even thinking, she spread them wider apart. Hermione gasped sharply as Harry's forefinger finally touched her clitoris, first flicking it gently, then rubbing it in a circular motion, and then up and down.
Very quickly, she felt herself begin to moisten, and she gasped again more strongly when he switched to using his thumb on her clit, while inserting first one and then two of his long fingers inside her body. Unerringly, he began a slow massage of her G-spot. She began to whimper softly, and her lower body started to move and then to writhe as she tried to get his finger movements just right. Almost magically, Harry's hand adjusted, and soon his thumb and fingers were synchronized perfectly both with each other and with Hermione's lower body movements.
She pulled her lips from his only long enough to gasp, "I think I'm ready."
"You're right. You only think you are, my love," blurted Harry, and he covered her mouth with his and began thrusting his tongue against hers.
As the writhing of her hips grew more frantic, Harry increased both the speed and the force of his fingers and thumb. Briefly, she got a look of panic in her eyes, and upon seeing the twinkling in his, followed by a wink, she realized that he intended to get her off exclusively with his hand.
But, as she felt herself get ever closer to orgasm, Harry pulled his mouth away, lowered his head, and paused at her breasts only long enough to lick each of her nipples. Then, he moved his head further down her body, dragging his lips along the midline of her torso until his mouth reached her pubic hair.
When he removed his thumb and replaced it with his moist and quickly flicking tongue, the previously wonderful feelings were replaced with indescribably stronger ones. Her moans grew much louder, and as the first wave of her orgasm began, she clenched her fists so tightly that her fingernails almost cut into her palms.
She screamed again and again, as Harry's fingers and tongue continued their uncannily perfect coordination with the contractions inside her, increasing the quantity and prolonging the length of the waves of pleasure rippling through her lower body. Her orgasm went on and on, in wave after wave of intense pleasure. Harry did not stop until the spasms between her legs ceased, and her loud shouts of ecstasy diminished to soft moans.
He raised his head from between her legs, noting with satisfaction the telltale flush on her chest, neck, and face. He kissed her softly on her lips, her eyes, her forehead, and then he smiled at Hermione's face, with its wonderful expression that combined wide-eyed amazement with unadulterated joy. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers from within her, provoking a final moan.
"That's a small 'thank you' for being the best friend and lover any man ever could hope for," said Harry.
"Mmmm," was all that Hermione could say.
Harry raised the pair of fingers glistening with her inner juices to his mouth and licked them, and then he laid them against Hermione's lips.
"Very nice. Care for a taste of you, yourself?" he asked.
Hermione grasped his hand, smiled at Harry, and took his fingers into her mouth. She began moving them in and out slowly, licking them with her tongue.
"THAT is the sexiest thing I've ever seen," exclaimed Harry.
"Somehow, I doubt that, but it's really sweet of you to say it anyway, Harry," said Hermione, after she pulled his fingers away. "But, isn't the purpose of this encounter to engage in actual fucking?"
"All in good time, my dear, but we're still involved in preliminary foreplay, and this is still about my 'thanking' you!" said Harry. "I liked so much the bouquet, flavor, and finish of 'Chateau Granger,' vintage a few minutes ago, that I intend to have another immediate tasting!"
To Hermione's amazement, Harry slid back down her body. Then, to her surprise, he proceeded to lick almost every single spot between her legs except for the most obvious one. He put the pair of fingers inside her again, but not quite deeply enough. She realized after several minutes that he was doing this deliberately!
He lifted his head and smiled up at her. "I seem to be having a bit of trouble, Hermione!" he said, with a devilish grin.
"Harry, please!" Hermione sobbed.
"Please what?" Harry asked.
"Please stop this teasing," Hermione whimpered, and she grabbed his head with both hands and tried to direct his tongue to its proper target. At the same time, she began a frantic wriggling of her hips in an attempt to draw his fingers deeper.
Finally, Harry relented, and he returned his fingers and his tongue precisely to where Hermione wanted them. After only a few minutes, he noticed that both her moans and her body movements were increasing, and then she was lost again in waves of joy and pleasure of such intensity that when they ended, her entire body was covered by a pink flush and tiny, jewel-like beads of perspiration.
It took five minutes for Hermione's heart rate and breathing to return to normal. Finally, she looked at Harry, and saw him mouthing the words, 'I love you.' Then, she felt his still hard erection against the outside of her thigh.
Abruptly, she sat up, and said, "now, it's MY turn 'to thank you!' On your back, Potter, and I want NO arguments!"
Harry sighed, but he obeyed her.
Hermione scooted down to the middle of Harry's body. She took his cock in both hands and gave it a couple of firm squeezes. Harry moaned and began to wriggle his hips.
"Oh, my!" said Hermione, "this does not look good at all! I do believe that if we were to try to engage in good, old fashioned, ordinary shagging, then you wouldn't last very long, would you?"
Harry moaned something unintelligible, while attempting to thrust his cock through Hermione's hands.
Her response was to lick its head, as if she were eating an ice cream cone, then to run her tongue up and down its underside, and finally to squeeze its base very firmly, to keep him from ejaculating for as long as possible.
Harry moaned again, and he raised his head up to look down at Hermione.
She gave him an evil little grin, and said, "I'm going to return the favor you did me. I'm going to keep you from coming for so long that you'll beg me to end the torture!"
She continued her licking and squeezing for what seemed to Harry to be a lifetime. Finally, she spoke.
"Harry, look at me!" Hermione demanded
Harry propped himself up on his elbows, and he looked down, to see Hermione taking as much as she could of his erection into her mouth, still keeping a firm grasp around the base of it.
He moaned very loudly, and he reached a hand toward Hermione's head, only to have her free hand deliver a rap across his knuckles.
"Harry," she said, after pulling her mouth free, and giving him a wide grin, "you WILL lie back and enjoy this! As you said, I'm the 'bossy know-it-all,' and I KNOW what I'm doing! You've been a very good boy so far, so now you get your reward!""
With that said, she released the base of his erection from her hand, as her mouth engulfed him again, and she began to move her head rapidly up and down. She flicked her tongue sideways along the underside of Harry's now throbbing cock, which impossibly seemed to be increasing slightly in girth.
Only seconds away from his orgasm, Harry tried to reached down toward Hermione again, and he attempted to mumble a warning to her. Her eyes, looking upwards, met his, and she started to make a humming sound, which for obvious reasons was somewhat muted. That did it!
No other word but an "eruption" could begin to describe what Harry felt as he began ejaculating. He screamed aloud his pleasure, as spurt after spurt after spurt shot into Hermione's waiting and greedily swallowing mouth. It was the longest orgasm that Harry remembered ever having.
When finally it was over, he felt totally drained, and he collapsed, nearly unconscious. He felt Hermione moving up the bed, and he opened his eyes to see her lying on her side next to him. As he started to speak, she placed a finger on his lips.
"Hush, Harry," Hermione said, "it's my turn to say 'thank you' for being the sweetest, kindest, most considerate, and wonderful friend and lover any woman ever could hope for!"
"Er, I feel the same," said Harry. "That is, I mean, I feel almost the same, er, I'm not a woman, I mean . . . "
"No, you're not," Hermione giggled, reaching down and grasping his cock. "Most DEFINITELY, you're not a . . . oh, my God! It's already getting . . . "
"Hermione," Harry said, with some hesitation, "if you're too tired to . . . "
"Are you out of your mind!" said Hermione, "I don't care if both of us are sore AND tired for a week, we're going to continue to have fun tonight!"
With that, Hermione straddled Harry, and she began to grind her lower center along his hardening cock. After she felt herself getting wetter, she raised her rear end up, grasped his cock to place its head at her entrance, and plunged down.
"Ooooh, that's SO good," Hermione said.
"You ought to feel it from my side!" Harry blurted, as he reached up, cupped the sides of her breasts with his hands and began to rub his thumbs across her nipples.
"Harry," said Hermione, with a hesitation evident in her voice, "you . . . you really don't mind about . . . about . . . about me . . . er, me being on top when we fuck, do you?"
"Hell, NO!" said Harry, continuing to massage her breasts gently, "I . . . actually, I rather enjoy it this way, too . . . and there's the bonus view!"
"What . . . what are you talking about?" asked Hermione, now clearly puzzled.
"Well, for one thing, your boobs look bigger," said Harry, with a gleam in his eye and a very wide smile.
"WHAT!" exclaimed Hermione, but her voice was cut off, as Harry moved his hands around and pulled her down, crushing their chests and lips together. He broke apart their mouths and spoke.
"I . . . I was JOKING! There's NOTHING wrong with your breasts, Hermione. They're quite the most beautiful I've ever seen, or ever would want to see," he said.
"Considering that they're the only ones you've REALLY seen - at least they had BETTER be the only ones from now on!" said Hermione. Then, she continued, "you . . . you don't think that they're too small?"
"NO! They fit you perfectly," said Harry, and he took one of her hands in his, pulled it up and kissed it. "They're just like your beautiful and delicate hands, which I adore as well."
"My . . . hands?" said Hermione.
"I said that I love your small hands, Hermione. They're lovely to look at, AND another wonderful feature of them is that they make my cock look bigger!"
Hermione stared at him for a second, and then she started to laugh. As her laughter continued and increased in magnitude, Harry noticed a most wonderful effect that it was having on her body, particularly on that part in which 'Little Harry' presently was deeply embedded. 'I wonder,' he thought.
"I KNOW that's not anything for you EVER to worry about, Harry!" said Hermione, her laughter fading. "Now, why don't we shut up and get on with it!"
"Okay, but only after I get in one last word," said Harry, "I do know the REAL reason why you prefer to be on top."
"Oh?" said Hermione.
"Indeed," said Harry, "if you'll forgive an atrocious play on words, it's because you, better than anyone else, know just how accomplished I, Harry Potter, am at fucking UP!"
Hermione burst out laughing again, and again Harry experienced the effect of it on her lower torso. 'Hmmm,' he thought, 'this does warrant further investigation.'
Hermione's laughter subsided again, and she spoke, "Harry, you're terrible! Now, can we shut the hell up and fuck!"
They did. For a while, it was one of those slow, relaxed, almost languid bouts of lovemaking, where lovers try to move as little as is necessary, in order to prolong it as greatly as is possible.
After a while, though, neither could help but to begin to move quicker, and when Hermione pushed herself up into more of a sitting position and began gyrating her hips frantically, Harry reached down both to caress and to help support her bum cheeks. As their climaxes drew ever closer, the previous interesting thought about her laughter insinuated itself once again into Harry's mind. 'Well,' he pondered, 'it's worth a try at least once!'
As Hermione's muscular contractions around his cock signaled the beginning of her orgasm, Harry quickly removed his hands from her bum, placed them along her sides, and he began to tickle her unmercifully!
To say that he got a strong reaction would be the understatement of all time. Hermione's eyes and mouth flew open, but no sound emerged for several seconds. What did happen immediately was that every muscle in her body began to contract very rapidly and much more powerfully, most especially those in her pelvic region.
Harry became lost in his own unbelievable orgasm, but he couldn't help but to hear Hermione's ear-splitting shrieks of pleasure. They were more than loud enough to awaken every living soul in the school, not to mention numerous ghosts and characters in magical paintings.
He hadn't thought it possible, but he seemed to enter a special state of mind, where time magically slows down.
Finally, Hermione stopped her screaming, and she looked down at Harry with the strangest expression that he had ever seen on a woman's face. Joy, ecstatic pleasure, and pure sexual bliss were part of it, but paradoxically, so were puzzlement and surprise. And, shining through all of them, there was powerful and unconditional love.
Shortly, puzzlement won out over the others very briefly, and Hermione fainted dead away, collapsing on top of him.
Harry was feeling light-headed and dizzy, but he managed to roll over just enough to allow Hermione's body to come to rest on her back, without her falling off the side of the bed. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, forehead, and lips. She moaned into his mouth and opened her eyes.
It took a few seconds for them to focus, and she spoke up in a small voice, "what . . . what happened?"
"You fainted, or you did an excellent job of pretending," said Harry. He grinned at her, and added, "I, Harry Potter, just finished screwing you, Hermione, LITERALLY senseless!"
"I . . . WOW!" said Hermione, smiling back at him, "I suspect that it had more to do with an unexpected sensory overload."
"No way!" said Harry, "admit it, Hermione, those words are just a fancy euphemism for saying that you were fucked out of your mind!"
She pushed him hard, forcing him onto his back, and she climbed back on top. "HARRY JAMES POTTER, if you EVER pull that trick on me again, without warning, then . . . "
"Then . . . WHAT?" asked, grinning at her.
"Then . . . what will happen is . . . RETALIATION!" said Hermione, digging both hands into his ribs and tickling him.
Suddenly, she stopped, got a thoughtful frown on her face and said, "Er, Harry, I just remembered something. Did . . . did you cast a silencing charm?"
"Er, ah . . . I thought that you . . . OH, SHIT!" Harry answered.
With very red faces, both of them knelt together near the head of the bed and eased the curtains open just enough to poke out their heads.
They were greeted with loud clapping and whistles from a tried-looking trio of Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, who huddled together briefly. Then all three produced large sheets of parchment, each inscribed with a large numeral "10," as if they were judges revealing scores at an old-style Muggle diving competition.
The blushes deepened on the faces of Harry and Hermione, to Ron's satisfaction. Unlike Dean and Seamus, from Muggle/mixed family backgrounds, he had not had a clue as to why holding up a simple sheet of parchment with a number on it was supposed to be funny. They had assured him that the two lovebirds would get the joke, and apparently they had.
Neville Longbottom poked his head through his bed curtains, and he gave a start when he saw Hermione in Harry's bed.
"Uh, hi, Hermione," he said, "are you here to help Harry with his terrible nightmares?"
Everyone burst out in laughter, and Neville shrugged his shoulders and went back to sleep.
Epilogue
The next morning, Harry and Hermione waited for a while before leaving his dorm room, hoping that most of their fellow Gryffindors already had departed for breakfast. They had made good use of the time by showering together in the boys' dorm washroom. When they entered the common room from the stairs, they were greeted with the smirking faces of Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Ginny Weasley.
The girls giggled among themselves, and began to make comments concerning the previous evening's events in Harry's room.
"Last night, there sure were a LOT of very loud feminine sounds coming from a certain boys' dorm room," said Lavender.
"AND some masculine ones, as well!" added Parvati.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other and blushed.
"So, Hermione, when are you going 'to share the wealth,' so to speak," asked Lavender.
"Yes, indeed," added Parvati, and then to Harry, she added, "you know, the two of us could show you a VERY good time!"
"I . . . I'm sure you could," said Harry, "but why would I be interested in the 'very good' when I already have the 'perfect?'" Turning to Hermione, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, and he said, "shall we go to breakfast, Hermione?"
They started to leave, but Hermione turned to the other girls, "do you really want to know what's most special about Harry? It is NOT his 'wand,' or his mouth, or his hands, or any other particular part of him, as wonderful as they are. Rather, it's his state of mind. At heart, he's very old-fashioned, a gentleman in the very best sense of the word."
She smiled, turned to the exit, and walked through it as Harry held the door open for her. He turned, winked at the girls, and just before following Hermione out of the common room, he said, "here's a hint, ladies."
"What on earth was THAT about?" asked Lavender.
"Search me," said Parvati.
"I believe that what Hermione was trying to say, and what Harry just confirmed," said Ginny, with a broad smile, "is that Harry Potter is such a gentleman that with him, a certain special young woman ALWAYS comes first!"
The End
A/N: That's it, all over and finally done! I hope that the sex scene wasn't too overwrought. I tried to go right up to, but not quite over, the line between the genuinely erotic, with a touch of humor, and the more mundane, excessively exaggerated trash unfortunately so prevalent everywhere, including in fan writing, thankfully mostly on web-sites other than Portkey.