Wizard Gone Wild (Chapter 3 of x)
A/N: Okay, so the bad news…Harry doesn't get naked in this update. Good news? It didn't take five months to write and get posted.
As usual, I've let the story run away from me, and can do little more than document its trajectory. And I needed a Luna scene, and somebody asked what was happening back at the stag party…so it's not all bad. Right?
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter Three
Hermione Granger left the witch's lav with a bright red blush on her cheeks….a blush generated not by her appreciation of Harry's g-string-bared bum, but by the boldness of her words. Telling Harry that she would be a "witch gone wild" if he stripped in front of her was, in her opinion, a very stupid thing to do (even if the sentiment was completely accurate).
A heated conversation from across the room turned Hermione's attention away from just how hot and hard she was lusting after her best friend. She quickly made her way towards the altercation, and was shocked to discover that it involved her former Head of House and Susan's future grandmother-in-law.
"Augusta, I can't do an adequate job transfiguring the quidditch stands until you expand the ceiling height!" Minerva McGonagall exclaimed.
"And I'm telling you that we've reached the vertical limit of a magically expanded room, Minerva," replied Neville's grandmother.
"Ach!" McGonagall squalked, throwing her hands up into the air.
"What seems to be the problem?" Hermione asked.
"We've reached room capacity," Minerva replied, "and I'll be damned if I miss out on the show just because I came late to the party and am standing at the back of the room."
"So…you've turned the room into the Hogwarts quidditch pitch?" Hermione asked, looking about the area with amazement.
"That was the general idea," the Headmistress replied. "Except that our charms mistress here, dinna want to give me the necessary height to fully recreate the seating area."
"You're just upset that there isn't room to build the Headmistress's box, so that you could claim the prime viewing angles that come with it."
"I'll not do less than a fully faithful rendition," Minerva countered indignantly.
Hermione bit her lip as she watched the two elderly witches exchange barbs.
"May I suggest something?" she asked.
The two witches turned to Hermione and nodded.
"You've done a wonderful job, here, Headmistress…you really have," she stated. "But it does look like we've expanded the room as far as it can go."
"But what about accommodating the crowd?"
"I'm getting to that," Hermione said. "I know this pitch is supposed to provide an appropriate backdrop for tonight's performance, but it's not like there's going to be an actual match here tonight …I mean, you've already given most of what should be a grass pitch over to a wood floor stage, right?"
Both witches nodded their head.
"So as long as you've put a stage on the pitch, why not add some ground level seating as well?"
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Would this be reserved ground floor seating then?"
Hermione cocked her head and squinted a bit at her former Head of House.
"Are you saying that you really do want to have a clear view of Harry's privates?"
The Headmistress huffed indignantly as her elderly sparring partner chortled at her expense.
"Well," Minerva stated, "it's not like Mr. Potter is still a student of mine…and is it not the case that you and he have been quite insistent on having me treat you like adult colleagues these past few years?"
Biting her lip, Hermione ignored the fact that McGonagall assumed that it would be Harry stripping and nodded her head in agreement.
At this, the Headmistress smiled broadly. "Well then, I can not see a better way of showing Harry that I consider him to be an adult male wizard."
"You mean that watching Mr. Potter physically prove that he's an adult male wizard is your way of demonstrating that you think of him as such?"
"Is my logic lacking, Augusta?" the Headmistress asked testily.
"No, Minerva…the only thing I see lacking are your inhibitions," replied the Longbottom matriarch.
The Headmisress huffed as she transfigured a box of five hundred matchsticks into comfortable folding chairs and levitated them into stage-facing rows.
"Would you be wishing a front-row seat, Headmistress?" asked Hermione coyly. "Or something more…discrete?"
Minerva huffed as she waved her wand in front of her face and magically obscured it.
"A front-row seat would be lovely, dear," she said with a now-hidden smile.
Hermione shook her head in disbelief as she walked with McGonagall towards the front of the room.
oo00OO00oo
Dobby popped into the Witch's Lav carrying a large box which he set at Harry's feet.
"Dobby be bringing Harry Potter, Sir's quidditch uniform," he announced.
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said with a smile, as he opened the box and pulled out his Gryffindor team uniform.
"Haven't seen this for a few years," he noted, as he cast a freshening charm on the fabric.
"Really?" asked Tonks.
Harry nodded. "Packed it away at the end of Sixth Year…didn't think I'd ever need it again."
"Oh, Merlin, let's not go down that 'I thought I was going to die fighting Voldemort' road, Harry."
The young wizard shrugged his shoulders. "Well…never did finish my last year, so I would have been right either way."
Tonks rolled her eyes and stepped towards the box. "Let's see what else you've got….just a jock strap? Oh, well…guess that'll work." She pulled the garment out and stepped into the leg straps. As she pulled it up towards her hips, the hemline traveled alongside, revealing her lack of undergarments. The revealing hemline stayed gathered at her waist as she walked over to the wash basin mirror.
"Like what you see?" Tonks asked, having caught Harry staring at her base form's bared bum.
Harry's face flushed a bit as he shook his head. "No…I mean yes…I mean, well…I just realized that you had changed back into your normal self."
The Auror laughed at Harry's delayed insight. "Yeah, well it turns out that I did need to use the loo while I was back at my flat, and you were spot on about the plumbing differences." She then turned her gaze back towards the protective cup and added. "Wouldn't think that you'd be able to fit yourself inside this."
"Yeah, well…"
"Guess I could find out for myself…" Tonks decided, before squinting her eyes in concentration. A moment later, she relaxed, then smiled. "Huh…guess there's more room in there than I thought."
Harry's face paled when he realized that Tonks had completed a partial female-to-male transformation.
"Tonks! That's disgusting….change your bits back right now!"
The metamorph giggled as she reversed the transformation and stepped out of the protective gear.
"Here," she said, offering it to Harry, "Throw it on over your g-string…it's better than nothing."
"Think I'll need to protect my crotch, then?"
The female Auror shook her head. "Not if you stay close enough to Hermione…I'm sure that she'll protect it well enough."
"Then why the disappointing tone?"
"Doesn't give you much to tease the crowd with," Tonks explained. "Once you lose the robes, it's just the cup, g-string and boots."
"So I'm supposed to take my time stripping down?"
"Exactly," Tonks replied.
Harry frowned. "So what else am I supposed to do out there?"
With a loud snort, Tonks replied, "Show'em what they've come to see…or should that be what they'll see to cum?"
"Tonks!"
"What?" the metamorph replied with a grin. "You asked."
"But how do I go about it, exactly?"
"You mean you really don't know?" Tonks asked. "Thought you just came from a party that had strippers."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but it's not like that's going to provide me with any ideas."
"Why not?"
"Because…well, they were clearly amateurs, and clearly drunk at the time…although that last part's not a bad idea."
"So they didn't do any teasing?" Tonks asked.
Harry shook his head. "The three witches just stood in a semi-circle in front of Neville and took turns banishing each others clothing."
"They were doing far more than that when I was there," said Tonks. "I mean really…pretending to be witches' witches and groping each other's bits…"
"Well yeah," Harry admitted. "But it's not like I'll have a partner out there to grind against, right?"
A sparkle came to Tonks's eye. "You could if you wanted to," she replied, as she morphed her face into his. "Give them a double dose of Harry?"
"I don't think so," Harry decided. "They'd for sure know then that at least one of us was me."
"Well, it's not like they aren't going to know that anyway," Tonks snarked.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I've seen you dance, Potter," Tonks replied. "No way you could mimic my moves out there…soon as you start flailing about they'll cotton on."
Harry puffed with indignation. "I'll have you know that Hermione likes the way that I dance."
"Yeah, right," Tonks quipped. "She's just being polite to keep you on the dance floor with her."
"Well," Harry retorted, "by the time I hop off the broom and start to dance they'd already know it's me."
"How's that?"
"Because I've seen you fly, Tonks…no way you can mimic my moves up in the air."
The metamorph paused for a beat, then smiled. "Guess you're right about that," she admitted. "Unless you pretended to be a goof on a broom."
"Never!" Harry quipped. "Wouldn't know how not to be graceful on a broomstick."
Tonks laughed. "So as long as they'll figure it out, might just as well be upfront about it…you think?"
"Maybe."
"I could always head out first and announce that the real Harry is in the house," Tonks suggested.
What sounded like a good idea to Harry quickly soured when he thought of Susan.
"But if you do that, then Susan might figure out that it actually was me that she was groping…can't have that."
"Oh, yeah that's right," Tonks admitted. "But maybe…."
Harry cocked his head as an evil-looking grin came over Tonks's face.
"What?" he asked.
"I've got a idea that might just work," she replied.
"Really?…Do tell, Tonks."
The metamorph smiled as she once again changed into a mirror image of the Boy-Who-Livid. "I'll need to talk and dress at the same time," she replied. "Give me back that jock strap."
oo00OO00oo
Outside the ersatz changing room, Lavender was leading Susan Bones by the elbow to a front and center seat that Minerva McGonagall had just transfigured.
"C'mon, Susan, we need to get you set up before the second act."
"What?" the former Hufflepuff asked. "You weren't serious about that notice-me-not charm, were you?"
Lavender snorted. "Of course I was," she replied, as she pushed the bride-to-be down onto the chair.
"But…if I need that sort of thing, surely I could do it myself?"
"Not during the show, you won't," the former Gryffindor replied. "There's going to be a 'no-wand use during the performance' announcement just before the show starts."
"Why?"
"Because we want the show to last longer than ten seconds," Lavender quipped. "With all of these randy witches getting hot and bothered with anticipation, someone is bound to get impatient and cast an 'Accio g-string' spell just as soon as he pops out the door."
Susan laughed. "So they'll be threatened with expulsion, or something?"
Lavender smiled and nodded.
"If we see your wand, you don't get to see Harry's."
Susan's laugh was choked off when Lavender cast a spell that raised the former Hufflepuff's hem length from ankle to upper thigh.
"What are you doing?" Susan demanded, as she clamped her bared legs together.
"Can't charm your knickers if I can't see them, right?" Lavender asked with a grin. She nudged the bride-to-be's knees apart with her own, raised her wand towards Susan's lap, and chuckled at first sight of her target.
"Red silk….and a thong, Susan?" Lavender asked. "Rather bold for a Hufflepuff!"
Susan's eyes sparkled. "Maybe my fiance's rubbed off on me?"
"More likely he's rubbed himself off if you've been flashing those to him," Lavender quipped. "Speaking of rubbing, though…we might have to rethink this."
"Why?"
"Because you might get a lap dance out of the deal," Lavender said with a grin. "Wouldn't do if the audience couldn't notice your knickers if our 'Harry' is grinding his crotch against them, would it?"
Susan blushed at the thought (especially when that thought was augmented by the realization that it would be Tonks doing the grinding).
Lavender grabbed her chin and thought for a few moments. "Alright," she concluded. "We'll have to go about it indirectly…which is your wank hand?"
"What?"
Lavender rolled her eyes. "You heard me, Susan…if we can't charm your knickers, we'll have to charm the hand that might slip inside them. So which is it? Left hand, or right?"
The bride-to-be bit her lower lip.
"Well…."
"What, are you ambidextrous, or something?" asked Lavender. "Or…is it both hands at the same time?"
Susan let out a deep breath, then held out both of her hands.
"Why, you naughty little witch!" Lavender snarked, as she cast the notice-me-not charm twice over.
oo00OO00oo
Tonks's brilliant plan for unraveling their identities required Harry to leave the witch's lavatory for a few minutes. Still thinking that firewhiskey would be an effective boost to his confidence, and wishing to check on Neville, he apparated back to the wizard's lav within The Leaky Cauldron (from which had left with Tonks). After a quick check in the mirror to reconfirm he was appropriately attired, he walked out of the lavatory and made a beeline for the bottle that he hoped was still sitting on his back table.
Before making his way through the scattered tables and chairs, Harry glanced towards the front of the room. He was relieved to find Neville to one side of the stage, lying down on a row of chairs. He couldn't tell from a distance whether the groom-to-be was passed out drunk or simply tired (not that it mattered…Susan could easily forgive and cure either condition with the right potion).
A refined assessment of the Neville's condition was cut short when Harry realized that the stage show had changed significantly. When he had left, the engaged Gryff was involuntarily enjoying a lap dance, with the three witches taking turns grinding their bum against his crotch. Now there was a different wizard sitting in Neville's chair, with his back to Harry and the hood of his robes drawn up. And the witches? They were now on their knees, taking turns in front of the wizard's crotch, doing more licking than grinding.
"At least it's not Neville," Harry thought to himself, as he began to scan the faces of the male audience. But before he could suss out who the lucky bastard was, Harry was roughly pushed back through the lavatory door.
"What the..!" he exclaimed, turning to discover that Ron Weasley was his assailant.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron. "What are you doing here?"
"Erm…you invited me?" Harry replied.
"Well sure, but…but we couldn't find you, mate…figured that you'd left for the night."
"Well, I obviously didn't," Harry replied. "What's with the manhandling?"
"That?" asked Ron. "Oh…you see…it's just that…didn't need there to be any confusion."
"And why would anyone be confused by the fact that I had returned to the party after a short absence?"
"Because…" Ron said nervously. "Oh, bugger."
"What?"
"Well, Harry…you know that I had to sort of promise that you'd be here to get the entertainment lined up, right?"
Harry scowled. "Go on."
"Yeah, well…a few minutes after you went missing the witches noticed, and…"
"And?"
"And they said that they'd only take things further if you were sitting in front of them."
"Take things further?" Harry said incredulously. "They were already….so which wizard just became part of the show, Ron?"
"That's where the confusion part comes in," Ron stammered. "The witches think that it's you."
"Me?" yelled Harry. "You've gone and….what…..let me guess, polyjuice?"
Ron nodded.
"But why?"
"It's like I said," Ron tried to explain. "We couldn't find you anywhere, and they insisted that the head of the line for head had to be Harry."
"Head of the line for head had to be Harry?" hissed Harry. "How can you even say that with how much you've had to drink?"
Ron shrugged his shoulders. "We all have different talents…not slurring when I'm pissed is one of mine."
"Right," Harry fumed.
"What…don't believe me?" asked Ron. "Then why don't you trying saying Pansy Parkinson picked a peck of pickled Potter peck…."
Harry cuffed his mate before he finished the disturbing rhyme.
"Hey!" Ron whined.
"Well let's try this one, shall we?" Harry said dangerously. "The Boy-Who-Lived's best mate's bits got bitten off by a bunch of pissed-off bare-arsed blow-jobbing bints."
Ron frowned for a moment. "Not bad…although it'd be better if you replaced 'pissed-off' with 'bent'."
Harry rolled his eyes in disgust. "So it wasn't bad enough that you tricked them into stripping down starkers with the promise that I'd be present and pliable…you used polyjuice and a stand-in just so you'd get some sloppy seconds?"
The Boy-Who-Was-Now-Really-Livid waved off Ron's sputtering start of an excuse and pointed towards the stage.
"So who is it?"
"Who is who?"
"The body double that's getting blown."
Ron looked down at the floor and muttered, "Colin."
"Colin Creevy?"
"That's right."
"But…but…but he's gay!"
"So?"
"So did somebody cast an Imperious on him?"
"Of course not," Ron said indignantly. "He was a willing volunteer!"
"Willing?…Why would he willing to be seduced by a group of witches?"
Ron muttered something else towards the floor.
"What was that?" Harry demanded.
Ron winced in anticipation. "Fred and George offered him their extended version of the polyjuice potion."
"Fabulous," said Harry. "Bloody fabulous….so how long will it last?"
"About four hours."
"Four hours?…Oh, Merlin," spat Harry. "So what's he plan on doing once the witches are done with him?"
"Erm, we didn't ask," Ron replied. "Colin said something about going home to play with his two favorite toys."
Harry's face paled. "So that would be his camera and….Oh, Bite Me!"
Trying to make light of the situation, Ron pointed and replied, "The line for that's out there."
Harry didn't think the joke added much humor to the situation. Realizing that he had little time to prevent this second disaster from getting too far out of hand, he drew his wand.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Ron's reaction of shock and surprise was perfectly captured on his now-stunned face.
"I've no time for this, Ron," he explained, pushing his mate's stiff body into a stall and closing the door.
Harry then stomped out the door and blasted the magical jukebox to pieces with a well-placed Reducto. With the music thus dispatched, there was no need for Harry to yell.
He did anyway.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON!"
Everyone's eyes shifted focus from Colin's lap to Harry's face (except for Neville's…his eyes were still shut tight in slumber).
"Oh, bug…"
"Ger," said Fred and George.
"Was that going to be part of the show as well?" Harry quipped.
"Who are you?" asked the witch who had looked up from her work.
"Why, I'm Harry Potter, of course," he replied.
"Yeah, right," she replied, waving towards Colin's crotch. "This is Harry Potter here."
"No," Harry explained as he strode to the front of the room. "That is a polyjuiced Colin Creevy pretending to be me."
"Colin Creevy!" shrieked the witch, as she jumped up from her knees and staggered away from the wizard.
"Pull your pants up and tell her," Harry demanded, as he looked towards a frightened version of himself.
"H-h-h-harry?" Colin asked. "They said you'd left."
"They also said you had plans for my bits and your camera," Harry countered.
"But I was only planning on a few candids for my personal collection!" Colin protested.
"Oh, Merlin, it really is Colin Creevy!" shrieked one of the other naked witches, as she walked backwards away from the chair. "And to think that I almost…."
"Look Harry, we can explain everything," offered Remus, who had been watching the show from one side.
"Save the explanation for Tonks," Harry snarled.
"But…but…what happens at a stag party, stays at a stag party, right?" asked Fred.
"Yeah, Harry, we all agreed on that," George added.
Harry fumed, and turned towards the three witches (who were rapidly retrieving their clothing).
"Did anybody else get to enjoy this part of your show, ladies?"
"No, you were the first…I mean, he was the first," said one of the three, as she pointed towards Colin.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," said Colin. "It was the firewhiskey, really!"
Harry shook his head in disgust as he surveyed the faces of the other wizards.
"You lot ought to be ashamed of your selves," he stated.
"We are, we are," offered Fred. "But about that agreement?"
Harry snorted as he waved his hand towards Colin. "I won't say anything about this…this fiasco," he stated. "But as for the fact that there were strippers, and lap dancing, and wanton ogling…well the kneazle is already out of the bag on that."
"But how?"
Nymphadora Tonks's patronus answered that question when it leapt into the room and delivered a three word message to Harry using her voice.
"Show Time, Stud!"
"Oh, Merlin, she was here already, wasn't she?" asked Remus.
Harry grinned. "Hope that couch is comfortable, my friend…I think you're going to need it for a long while." He then turned to the others and added, "That probably goes for the lot of you."
Amidst the anticipatory moaning and groaning, Harry turned to Colin and announced, "You are coming with me."
"Wha…wha…where are we going?"
"Someplace far away from your camera, at least while you look like that," Harry explained. He then turned to the three now-clothed witches. "You lot might as well come along too."
"Why is that?" asked one of the three.
"Because every other bloody witch in Britain is probably there by now," he replied.
"Where's there?" asked George.
Harry turned and gave the red-headed twin a wicked grin. "Why, the Three Broomsticks, where else?"
"But…isn't that where Hermione was having Susan's doe party?" asked Dean Thomas.
"Why, I believe you're right, Dean," Harry said with a smile.
"But why are you….what's going on there?" asked Seamus.
Harry dismissed the Irish wizard's question with a firm "tsk-tsk."
"Now, now, boys," he admonished. "If what happens at a stag party, stays at a stag party, then surely the same applies for the doe and her party, right?"
Pointing towards the door, he asked, "Are you ladies sober enough to use the floo?"
The three witches (and Colin, to Harry's amusement) all nodded.
"Then you've got a show to catch," he replied. Harry then led them towards the door, grabbing the half-full bottle of firewhiskey along the way. When he stopped at the threshold in order to guzzle straight from the bottle, his eyes went wide…but it wasn't due to the alcohol.
"Oi, Colin," he chided, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Put that hood up…the world's got enough me's running about tonight."
As the party of five exited, Fred turned to George and shook his head.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.
"I usually am, aren't I" George quipped.
"What?" asked Seamus.
"Harry and Tonks are set on leveling the playing field," said Fred.
George nodded. "Hope it works."
"Why's that?" asked Dean.
"Because it's hard for my wife to yell at her husband when she's got damp knickers and a goofy grin on her face," George explained.
Fred snorted. "You're assuming that your wife comes home with her knickers, then?"
"Good point, brother of mine," George admitted.
oo00OO00oo
Harry rolled out of the Three Brookstick's floo connection and into chaos. Madame Rosmerta and her staff were failing spectacularly in their attempts to serve an overflow crowd of witches, and his sudden appearance didn't help any.
"There he is!" shouted a witch, once she recognized Harry.
"Ooops!" Harry announced, as the three female strippers, Colin and he were mobbed.
"Huddle close!" he shouted towards his companions, as he cast a complex spell over their heads.
When the spell took effect, the cries of excitement within the room turned into shrieks of disappointment.
"Where'd he go?"
"Are you sure that it was him?"
"Sure, I'm sure…in fact, I saw two of him!"
"Merlin, cut that witch off, she's seeing double!"
Harry chuckled as he linked hands with his party and ushered them towards the back door.
"What did you do, Harry?" asked Colin.
"Cast a group-focused notice-me-not charm," Harry replied, as he led them to the front of the line. "It pulls attention away from the group, without keeping us from noticing each other."
"So nobody is going to notice us, or mind that we budge in line?" asked Colin.
"That's right," Harry replied.
"Hey Harry, come to see your own show?"
Harry turned and smiled at the witch who was taking tickets at the door.
"There are always exceptions," he admitted to Colin with a smirk. "Hello, Luna…busy night?"
"Wonderfully so," the blond-haired witch replied. Luna then turned towards Colin and asked, "A third Harry?"
"Well,"
"Haven't I warned you about pulling your multi-dimensional counterparts into our world?" Luna asked.
"Yes," Harry replied, waving towards Colin. "But this is polyjuice at work, rather than a dimension jump."
Luna squinted at the doppelganger. "Oh, I see. Hello, Colin Creevy."
"Erm…hello?" the young wizard replied.
Harry shook his head. "Luna, you never fail to amaze me."
"Good, then I guess I'm doing my job," the witch replied with a grin. "And speaking of jobs, you're going to need tickets for me to punch, if you want to watch yourself get naked."
Colin Creevy's eyes lit up like he just woken on Christmas morning.
"No, Colin," Harry chided. "You will not be watching the show."
As the young wizard frowned, the three stripper witches looked at Harry with pleading eyes. He snorted, then said, "Alright, you lot inside…I'll vouch for you with management."
The girls squealed as they brushed by Harry, giving him hugs and kisses on the cheek as they passed by.
"Hold on, then," Luna stated, holding her hand out. "I need to check you for hidden cameras."
The three stood there expectantly as Luna looked them over.
"Okay, then, in you go."
Luna got some hugs and kisses herself as the three witches passed through the gate.
"So Luna," asked Harry, "would you be willing to watch Colin for me while I'm inside?"
"Sure, Harry…anything for you."
"Even if that means you miss the show?"
Luna gave Harry a beatific smile as she started to allow more of the line of queued witches through the doors.
"That's okay, Harry…I've seen your show before."
"Really?" asked Harry nervously, running his hand through his hair. "I don't remember that…did I have to write a letter after you walked in on me in the shower too?"
"Not in this dimension," Luna replied matter-of-factly. "In fact, I'm not aware of that happening in any of the other dimensions…at least not yet."
Harry chuckled….Luna's willingness to share with him the collective experiences of her 46,204 (and counting) multi-dimensional counterparts was always good for a laugh.
"But you've seen me…all of me…in some of the other dimensions?"
Luna smiled brightly. "Yes, almost all of them, actually."
"Really?"
"Why not?" the witch asked. "After all, you and I are already married in at least thirty-thousand different dimensions."
Harry snorted. "That many, huh?" When Luna shrugged her shoulders, Harry added. "But we're not married in this dimension?"
"Not that I am aware of," Luna replied. "Are we married in this dimension?"
"Not that I'm aware of," said Harry.
"Poo!" said Luna.
"Disappointed?"
"A little bit," Luna replied. "After all, we're almost always blissfully happy whenever we get married." She sighed, and placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry…some of us have to live without you for a little while just to show the others how good they've got it when they get it from you."
While Harry was trying to compose a semi-coherent response to this bit of incoherence, Luna added, "Besides, I've got something to look forward to."
"What?" asked Harry. "I thought that you and the others were the same age, and that you couldn't see into any of the multi-dimensional futures?"
"I can't, silly," Luna said with a shoulder squeeze. "I'm just playing the percentages."
"How so?"
"Well…in about half of the other dimensions you're bonded with Hermione."
"Half?" asked Harry, working the math. "But you just said you and I are married in roughly three-quarters of the dimensions."
Luna frowned. "Those two facts aren't mutually exclusive, you know."
Harry chortled. "So it's you and me and Hermione, then?"
Luna smiled. "At least the three of us," she stated.
"Harems?" asked Harry.
Luna shrugged. "Your sexual stamina and long penis length are two of the few known constants in the universe."
"Well that's good to know," Harry replied. He then asked, "So what are these percentages that you're counting on?"
"Whenever Hermione becomes the primary wife, I end up sharing your bond and your bed 93% of the time."
Harry choked on some spittle. "That often, Luna?"
"Oh yes," she stated seriously. "That's a number that I track quite religiously."
Colin decided to jump into the conversation. "Are Harry and I bonded in any of these other dimensions?"
Harry scowled at the interloper, but Luna just smiled.
"The odds are remote," she stated, "but not impossible."
"Yay!" chirped Colin, channeling a Luna-ism.
"Well, then," Harry said, giving his hair another rake with his fingers. "I'll have to keep all this in mind, I guess."
A roar coming from the other side of the door kept Harry from any additional musing.
"Ah…it sounds like the other Harry's delaying tactics have run their course and she's started her show," Luna said. "You better get inside."
Harry nodded, and made for the door…only to be stopped by Luna's hand.
"Just a minute, Harry…I need to check for hidden recording devices."
"But…"
"Won't take but a second," Luna stated, as she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and slipped her hand into the front of Harry's trousers.
"Luna!" he hissed. "Is that really necessary?"
"Sshhh…." she chided. "I'm listening for cameras."
"With your hand?"
"How else would you want me to do it?" she asked.
Harry stared at the blonde-haired witch, then smiled as he gingerly pulled her hand out of his tented pants.
"Luna, I can't imagine you doing things any other way."
He gave his good friend a hug, then walked through the door to face this dimension's destiny.