Testing Defenses
A/N: There will be one more chapter after this. Thanks to chemprof for his ideas and suggestions.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter 8: An Unexpected Visit
Harry Potter slept better than he had a right to, or so he thought as his mind swam towards consciousness in the early morning hours.
After a long night of Pampering 101, Harry had offered Susan the use of his magical silk-sheets, and crossed the hall to spend the night alone in the guest bedroom. She had protested, claiming the need to catch his dreams, but the young wizard had decided that Hermione was the only witch he wanted to shoulder (or was it "breast"?) that burden.
And then there was always the risk of being caught in a naked spoon with the MLE Director's favorite niece.
Somehow, though, despite the muggle linens, and strange surroundings, and lack of bed-sharing witches, Harry felt warm and secure that morning. Wishing to return to the latest dream (which involved the pampering of Hermione's other, less bushier hair), he turned his face into his pillow and snuggled deeply. The pillow's warmth and comfort attracted his cold hands; one snaked underneath while the other slipped under the edge of the pillowcase searching for trapped heat.
Harry didn't realize exactly how the pillow's warmth was being generated until it began to grind against his hand.
With a sudden spark of realization, Harry pulled his hands away, jerked his head up and opened his eyes. He discovered that he had indeed been snuggling against a pillowcase. But that pillowcase was all that had separated his head (and hands) from a naked house-elf.
Harry screamed and rolled off of the bed. The house-elf's own eyes opened wide and stared at Harry in panic. A half-second later it disappeared with a pop.
"What the hell was that?" Harry wondered. "Who the hell was that?" he then added.
It took a few seconds for Harry to decide that he had been snuggling (and groping?) a house-elf. The good news, at least, was that he was fairly certain it wasn't Dobby. More good news came with the absence of activity out in the hall…his silencing charms had apparently held.
Needing some answers, the young wizard pulled himself up off the floor, grabbed his wand, and crossed the hall to his bedroom. When a soft knock on the door didn't garner a response, he opened the door and poked his head inside. What he saw was unsettling (which was saying something, given all that he'd seen over the past week).
In Harry's absence, Susan had found something else to snuggle against during the night. And "snuggle" was a term used politely…the young witch was lying naked in his bed, with the sheets pulled down, and her body in full frontal contact with his Firebolt. The well-trimmed bristle head was buried in her crotch, the shaft nestled between her breasts, and the handle rested on the pillow, where Susan's lips and tongue were within striking distance.
Harry pointed his wand towards the crumpled sheets and carefully levitated them up and over Susan's body. Once she was covered, he walked into the room and to the bed. With one hand gently shaking her sheet-covered shoulder, Harry again called out her name.
As Susan slowly stretched, the bed sheet slipped down her arms, once again exposing her breasts. The young witch paid no mind as she opened her eyes and smiled at Harry.
"Good morning, Harry."
"Morning, Susan," he replied, as he took two steps back and folded his arms in front of his bare chest. Nodding towards his broom he asked, "Sleep well?"
"Why yes I did, thanks," the young witch replied. She then followed Harry's gaze and smiled. "Hope you don't mind Harry…since you wouldn't let me wrap my legs around your other big stick…."
"You decided to service my Firebolt?"
Susan giggled. "It may have done a better job of servicing me last night."
"So it seems."
The Hufflepuff waggled her eyebrows as she nodded towards Harry. "Looks like that stick is looking for some attention as well."
Harry looked down and quickly adjusted his boxers so that his erection no longer peeked through the buttoned fly.
"Yes, well…while I'm in the loo you get dressed and grab your wand…we might have a problem."
Without waiting for a snarky comeback he trotted over to the Port-a-loo. When he reappeared from the tent he found Susan standing in the middle of the room, wearing a dressing gown and holding his broom and her wand.
"Here's your broom back, Harry," she said with a smile, as she held out the Firebolt. "Want to check me for splinters?"
Harry shook his head as he walked over to his chest of drawers and retrieved a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt. As he dressed, he asked, "Susan, do you have any idea why I woke up with a house-elf in my bed?"
Susan's eyes went wide. "Maybe."
Harry shook his head. "Care to share that idea with me?"
Susan nodded as she called out, "Tillie?"
The pillow-sheet wearing house-elf that had served as Harry's headrest popped up in front of the young witch.
"Yes, Mistress Susan?" the house-elf asked. She then turned towards Harry and let out an "Eep!" and popped away.
"Well, that's not like her," Susan said, "Just let me call her…"
"No, let's talk first," Harry interrupted. "I'm guessing that Tillie is your house-elf?"
Susan nodded. "It actually is bound to the Bones Family, and not to me personally. I've known Tillie all my life."
Harry pursed his lips. "And did you summon Tillie last night after I left?"
Susan shrugged her shoulders. "I really was worried about you having nightmares, so I asked Tillie to make sure you had a good night's sleep."
Harry snorted. "Well, I guess she followed your orders, then,"
"What?" asked Susan. "She didn't do anything inappropriate, did she?"
Harry shook his head. "More like I did." He then told Susan about how he had woken up that morning.
Susan couldn't help but laugh. "Well I should be upset…sounds like Tillie got more action than I did last night."
"But did she get more than my broom?" asked Harry with a wink.
Susan gave Harry a "tsk-tsk," and replied, "I never kiss and tell."
Snorting once more, Harry said, "Why don't you call Tillie back here…I want to know how she got past the wards."
Susan agreed, and managed to calm her house-elf down long enough to explain that neither she nor Harry were upset with her. While this took place, Harry recalled Dobby's visits to Privet Drive during his second year. He had managed to get through the wards when he was still a Malfoy house elf, and without a family member as a target.
"Every time I look," he muttered half to himself, "the defenses look worse and worse."
Susan looked towards Harry and apologized. "Sorry, but Hermione asked me to do a trial run for when she….oops!"
Harry cocked his head. "For when Hermione does what, Susan?"
The Hufflepuff shook her head. "Sorry, but that's her story to tell."
Harry nodded, then asked Tillie to explain how she was able to pop inside his bedroom. The house-elf explained that Susan had asked her to bring her to Harry's bedroom the night previous. Tillie had some problems making the jump…she usually needed a good idea of where she was going, and there were some magical barriers in place.
"So how were you able to finally make the trip?" asked Harry.
"Dobby helped us," Susan said.
"Dobby?" asked Harry with surprise. He paused for a few moments, then called out the house-elf's name, with a tone of voice that conveyed summoning more than surprise.
There was no response.
"Dobby hears his great Harry Potter, Sir," Tillie said meekly. "But he can't come even if he's called."
"Really?" asked Harry. "That's strange…he's been here before."
Tillie nodded. "Dobby told us that…said that the Bad Headmaster knows too."
"Bad Headmaster?" wondered Harry. He then asked, "So did this Bad Headmaster do something to Dobby?"
Susan jumped in. "Dumbledore made Dobby promise that he wouldn't visit you on Privet Drive this summer. If he does, then the Headmaster will give him clothes and keep Dobby from working at Hogwarts during the school year."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why that manipulative, old bastard!"
Susan nodded. "We thought so too."
"We?"
With a guilty smile, Susan replied, "The dream catchers were all at Hermione's house yesterday evening, for what she called a…sleeping party?"
"Slumber party," Harry corrected.
"Ah yes," said Susan. "Anyway, once I got the go-ahead to visit, I summoned Tillie, but when she had troubles, Hermione thought ask Tillie to find Dobby and ask for his help."
"Tillie found Dobby and brought him back to Dobby's Harry Potter Sir's 'Mione's house," added the house-elf.
Harry worked through all of the possessives in that statement, then asked, "So who was calling Hermione 'Harry Potter Sir's 'Mione?"
"Why Dobby, of course," the house-elf replied.
"We did too, once we heard it," said Susan with a grin, adding, "we thought it was so romantic."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So, Dobby showed Tillie how to find me?" he asked.
"Dobby showed Daisy, too," the house-elf noted.
"Daisy? Who is Daisy?"
Susan and her house-elf shared worried looks.
"Ooops!" said Tillie, as she popped off.
"Again, it's Hermione's story," said Susan, once Harry turned towards her. "Ask her when you call….you are going to call her today, right?"
Harry sighed and nodded. Realizing that he wasn't going to get any further down this line of inquiry, he shifted topics.
"So, Susan, you were at Hermione's yesterday?"
When the Hufflepuff nodded, he asked, "Did she tell you where I lived, or were you testing more than the house-elf and 'do harm by spanking me' theories?"
Susan shook her head. "Yesterday morning, I asked Auntie Amelia where you lived."
"Don't suppose the Death Eaters have friends or relatives that are that useful," Harry mused.
"Actually, they do," Susan replied.
"How's that?" wondered Harry. "Does Voldemort have moles in Hopkirk's office?"
"Don't know about that, but I do know he has sympathizers in the Wizengamot."
Harry frowned. "So does every Wizengamot member have access to MLE files?"
"No, but I think that every one of them has a pair of ears, and could hear what Aunt Amelia heard during your trial last year."
Harry stared at Susan for a few moments as he mentally revisited his visit to Courtroom Number Ten. Suddenly turning pale, he swore emphatically.
"Language, Harry," said Susan.
"Yes, dear," Harry replied reflexively. He would have found more humor in the banter if he wasn't so focused on the facts.
Harry didn't have any idea whether the court documents associated with his disciplinary hearing were public, but he clearly remembered at least two different instances when the street address of his summer residence was read out loud before the entire Wizengamot.
And Dumbledore had been standing next to him for at least one of those times!
"Sweet Merlin!" he uttered. "Every single member of the Wizengamot heard where I lived…I can remember quite clearly Percy Weasley's pompous tone of voice as he read out the trumped up charges."
Susan patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"So now, I'm forced to wonder not if I can be attacked here, but why that attack hasn't already occurred!" Harry exclaimed. "Umbitch was there, and Fudge…surely he told Malfoy, and the Nott patriarch, and how many others?"
"How many voted to convict you?" asked Susan.
"Too many," he replied sadly. After a few moments of quiet he once again muttered out a curse.
"What, Harry?"
The young wizard let out a deep sigh as he shook his head. "Dumbledore will use this bit of information against us," he concluded. "The fact that Death Eaters either heard outright where I lived or were told second hand by their lackeys, but still didn't come after me ….it will be used as proof that the wards work."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far."
"True, but you aren't a manipulative control freak grasping for straws as he tries to keep me under his thumb," Harry shot back. "How many years has Dumbledore intercepted my mail with the excuse that my location had to be kept secret…how many years? Even if the wards did keep the Death Eaters at bay there's no rational explanation why Dumbledore could expect this house's location to be kept secret…no need to block my mail!"
Susan nodded glumly. "Do you think it was intentional?"
"What…keeping me in the dark, keeping me from my friends…making me dependent on Dumbledore, and that much more appreciative each year when he swoops down and rescues me from Hell? You bet your cute arse I think it was intentional!"
The Hufflepuff pushed her chair back with a squeak, as if the force of Harry's assessment had pushed her away…too frightened to realize that he had called her bum cute.
"Sorry, Susan, it's not your fault," Harry said.
The young witch shook her head. "Actually, part of it is…it is my fault and everyone else's that trusted Dumbledore that his overconfidence and overbearing control went unnoticed."
"Oh, come on," said Harry, "Your Aunt, maybe…but how can you take that on your shoulders, Susan? It wasn't your job to worry about my safety. I'm the one that should have been more wary, and less complacent."
"Why, because you're so much older than me?" asked Susan with a wry smile.
Harry let out a deep breath. "Okay, fine. It's all Dumbledore's fault…the question is what we need to do to fix things."
Susan smiled. "There you go, Harry…just so long as you remember that you don't have to figure the answer out on your own."
"But it's my life…my responsibility."
"And your girlfriend and girlfriend wannabes are going continue to slap your arm and cuff your ears until you realize that we're in this with you," Susan said strongly.
Harry pursed his lips. "Okay, then, Susan…what do you think I should do?"
Susan smiled. "I think that you should invite Auntie over for a visit."
Harry paused. "I hope you mean a daytime visit," he replied.
Susan giggled. "Of course I do, Harry….Auntie will have to go to the back of the line if she wants to volunteer for that."
Harry shook his head. "I think that the game of testing defenses is over."
"Why?"
"Because nothing is going to convince Dumbledore that I'm not safe here. I mean…you were able to get through despite wanting to slap me silly. What's the next test…invite Bellatrix Lestrange over for tea? Except that wouldn't count, if I invited her in, right?"
Harry shook his head emphatically. "I bet Hermione could carry the Dark Lord piggyback across the wards and Dumbledore would still have an excuse."
Susan sighed. "You do realize that you're going to disappoint a lot of witches who were still waiting for their turn."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Such is the fate of a teen-aged sex god."
Susan snorted. "Confident much?"
Harry paused, and then shrugged his shoulders. "Much more so than last week, that's for sure." He then grinned as he realized something.
"So tell me, Susan…Hermione's Plan was designed to test the wards, and maybe to help catch a few bad dreams…was there any talk about boosting my self-confidence as a new witch visited each night?"
Susan took the question seriously. "You'll have to ask Hermione for sure, but from my perspective…well, I didn't come here to stroke your ego, or any other part of you."
"Hard to stroke me with that riding crop in your hand…although it does look like my broomstick should have a goofy smile on its face."
"Yes, well…as I was saying…I volunteered because I wanted to help you understand that lots of people care about you, and one in particular cares very, very deeply. You are worthy of our concern, Harry…you are worthy of our love. And if realizing that helps boost your self-worth, and if that in turn bolsters your confidence, then…"
"It's worth the trauma associated with getting to see me starkers, and for me to do your nails, and rub your back, huh?"
Susan smiled as she reached for Harry's hand.
"Just don't get too big for your britches, Potter."
Harry snorted. "Right. You show up on my doorstep wearing that outfit and waving those breasts, and you expect me not to get big?"
Susan laughed. "Harry, I was talking about your other swollen head."
+++
Tillie once again provided transportation after Susan had showered, dressed, and obtained the standard photodocumentation of her visit. She offered to leave the riding crop behind for future use, but Harry refused. She settled for giving Harry Hermione's telephone number and some advice not to wait too long to call. Harry asked if he should give her a chance to report back to Hermione first. She pleaded innocence, but didn't discount his guesses.
Harry decided to go downstairs and fix his Aunt some breakfast. It wasn't nearly as important a task as the telephone call, but it gave him some time to consider what he was going to say. Deciding to be contrite, but not too lap-doggish, he took the cordless telephone upstairs with his Aunt's breakfast tray. After making use of her cat flap, he took the phone into his room and summoned all of his Gryffindor courage as he dialed the number.
An older woman's voice came over the line.
"Granger residence."
"Erm, hullo, this is Harry Potter…is Hermione there?"
There was a pause.
"Oh, hello, Mr. Potter, this is Emily, Hermione's mother. And yes, she is here."
Silence.
"Erm, well…may I talk with her please?"
"I'm glad that you asked…one moment, and I'll see if she's available."
There was a jostling sound, then silence, as if a hand had been placed over the receiver. But if it was intended to keep Harry from hearing something, it didn't work, as a muffled voice called out, "Hermione…your boyfriend's got his head out of his arse and finally called you!"
Harry thought he might have heard a squeal in response, but wasn't certain. It made him wonder just how hard he'd have to work to make things right with Hermione.
A few moments later he heard a muffled admonishment to "Don't be too hard on him!" And then…
"Hullo, this is Hermione."
"Hi, Hermione, this is Harry."
"Harry Who?"
Harry snorted. "Harry Potter, of course."
"Oh, no, this must be a crank call…the only Harry Potter that I know apparently broke his fingers and can't call or write."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm sorry, Hermione. I know I should have called you sooner."
"And…."
"And I should have written back."
"And….."
"And, I really am sorry…things have been kind of crazy around here since you visited."
"Yes….I've heard that. Anything you need to share with me, Harry?"
Harry paused, then said, "Yeah, it's about testing defenses….I think you should stop sending witches out to try and break through."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Well, mainly because it's never going to work…Dumbledore is never going to admit that he's been wrong all these years."
"So it's mainly about that?"
"Erm, well…it's one reason, I guess."
"Why else, then?"
"Besides the fact that the next excuse is that the wards only block out Death Eaters, and I don't fancy the thought of Bellatrix giving it a go?"
"So let me get this straight….you don't mind having witches visit you, just so long as they aren't Death Eaters."
"Yeah, that's right. And while you're at it, I've had my full of Doms, Vestal Virgins, Part-Veelas, Peeping Tomettes, and Exhibitionists."
"Really, Harry? Well, that's too bad…that covers most of the witches still on the waiting list."
"Why am I not surprised?" asked Harry.
"I noticed you didn't have House-Elfs on that list…care to share?"
"No…add house-elfs to that list as well."
He heard a sigh on the other side. "I guess, then, you'll be pretty lonely there the rest of the summer."
"Well, actually," said Harry, "I was hoping that I hadn't excluded one witch."
"Anyone in particular, Harry?"
"Erm, yeah….you."
"Me?" asked Hermione. "You want me to visit you?"
"Yeah, that'd be brilliant."
"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said coyly. "What if you just excluded me based on that list?"
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, let's see…I think you'd look hot black leather, if you're into Susan's kink…I could live with you being an exhibitionist, you aren't part-veela…what's left?"
"Peeping Tomette and Vestal Virgin."
"Right, thanks….well if you like to watch me…guess that's okay if I do too, but Vestal Virgin?"
"Yeah, what if I was a Vestal Virgin?"
"Then I'd cross my legs and somehow persevere through your Vow of Nudity."
Hermione laughed, which was sounded good to Harry's ears.
"So, Harry, are you asking me to visit as a friend?"
"Erm…more than that, actually."
There was a pause. When Hermione next spoke, her tone of voice had brightened considerably.
"So…are you asking me to do more than visit, or asking me to be more than just your friend?"
Harry squirmed. "Could we just meet, so that I can answer that in person?"
Hermione replied. "I might be able to arrange that, when were you thinking?"
"Right now would be perfect."
"Hmmm, don't know that I can rearrange my schedule, and then there's the guard to avoid, and my parents…..Tell you what, Harry, give me a call back tomorrow morning and I'll let you know when and where."
"Tomorrow morning?"
Hermione giggled. "What's the matter, Harry, don't fancy the thought of a cold bed tonight?
Harry smiled. "Sounds like you're planning an overnight visit."
"Hmmmm…."
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I've missed you."
"Oh, Harry….I've missed you too."
"So you'll try and visit before tonight, then?"
"Should I pack an overnight bag if I do?"
Harry's thoughts raced. "Well, I do have an extra toothbrush," he quipped.
"Anybody leave behind a spare set of pajamas?"
"Erm…"
"They were wearing pajamas, weren't they Harry?"
"Well…"
"Harry?"
"Yes, Hermione."
"Just make sure your Quidditch jersey smells like you."
"Erm….I can do that."
"Good. Bye, Harry."
"Okay…bye."
+++
Harry wore his Quidditch jersey during five grueling hours of dueling practice that afternoon. Over that period of time the jersey was scorched, frozen, ripped, bloodied and mended too many times to keep track. But by the end of the day there was no question that it had been properly seasoned to Hermione's specifications.
+++
Mad-Eye Moody was in the kitchen, sharing a Harry-cooked meal and teasing him mercilessly when he stopped cold and his magical eye twirled up towards the ceiling. A grin broke out on his battle-scarred face. He reached into a cloak pocket, pulled out a full box of condoms and threw them onto the table.
"You've got company waiting for you upstairs."
Harry's eyes went wide. "And it's the kind of company that requires that kind of wand protection?"
The retired Auror snorted. "That's up to you, Potter…entirely up to you." And with a roaring laugh he stood and hobbled through the kitchen door.
Harry paused, then scooped the rubbers off of the kitchen table, rationalizing that his Aunt didn't need to see that sort of thing (if she ever left her room again). And with a bright spring to his step he bounded up the stairs.
He didn't find anyone waiting for him inside what was now his bedroom suite. But he did hear the water gurgling in his hot tub, and saw wisps of steam escaping from the small gap between the Port-a-loo's tent flaps. The blood flowed rather vigorously towards his crotch at the thought of Naked!Hermione in his hot tub. He quickly stripped down to his boxers, approached the Port-a-loo, and called out, "Hermione?"
When there wasn't a reply he popped his head inside to see if he had mistakenly left the tub running. What he found was a bit…well…a bit off. There was a witch in the hot tub with her back to the door…but she was sitting a bit too tall, and her hair was gathered underneath a shower cap.
"Hermione?" he asked.
The nervous giggle that came back through the steamy haze was very unsettling. While he had never heard that particular laugh before, he knew one thing for certain…it hadn't come from a young girl's lips.
"Erm…hello?" he called out, as he walked towards the tub. He froze when the person dove away from him, exposing a skinny torso and rather bony bum. The woman (clearly, a nude woman) then spun around to face Harry from the opposite side.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter."
The evening was suddenly not good for the young wizard.
"Professor McGonagall?" he squeaked. "What are you doing here?"
"Testing defenses."
"Testing….defenses….Dumbledore's?"
The elderly witch chuckled as she lifted her arms out of the water and draped them along the wooden rim of the tub.
"Nice tent, Mr. Potter."
Not knowing quite how to respond considering the circumstances, it was all he could do to reply, "Erm…thanks, Luna lent it to me."
"That's not the tent I was admiring," the witch quipped, as she nodded towards him.
When Harry followed her gaze down his still bulging shorts he nearly had a heart attack.
"Erm…Professor…thanks, but..erm…no need to test my defenses…"
"Are you refusing my help?" the witch said sharply. "My dream catchers aren't good enough for you?"
Harry's queasiness blossomed…yet another witch was asking him to critique her breasts…except there was no way in hell that he was going offer his opinion on the Assistant Headmistress's.
Harry heard the sound of water splashing, then settling, and he suddenly realized that his bare-arsed Transfiguration professor was offering up a full frontal view. He quickly turned his head away.
"I'm waiting for your thoughts on 'Left' and 'Right', Mr. Potter."
In a panic, Harry fled the tent and began to hyperventilate.
Despite the seriousness of the situation (at least for him), Harry eventually calmed down and smirked at the thought of his Head of House calling her eighty-year old breasts "Left" and "Right"… just like Luna. And then he realized that she had also called them "Dream Catchers."
"Where in Merlin's name did she hear those nicknames?" he wondered.
"Come on back, Mr. Potter, no need to be bashful!"
Harry let the comment pass, choosing instead to focus his thoughts on the situation. If the Assistant Headmistress knew about dream catchers and their use, Harry reasoned she must have been in contact with Hermione, or one of the other girls. And then he recalled that she had indeed visited both Hermione and Katie Bell. But what would make her do this?
As Harry skimmed over memories of the past week, he realized that there had been no shortage of witches whose behaviors he seemed out of character. But Minerva McGongall? Naked!Minerva? This was a nightmare.
Stalling for time, he walked over to the flap and yelled inside. "You must be getting cold standing there, Professor…Feel free to use the towels…or better still the dressing gowns hanging on that side wall."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter, but I'm quite comfortable," came the reply. "There must be some other reason why my nipples are so hard."
"That's it!" Harry decided to himself. "This has gone well past strange and frightening and straight to surreal. She can't be serious!"
The thought of just how "serious" the situation was called to mind his godfather's favorite play on words. Harry paused to consider what Sirius would have done in his shoes. He then realized that if Sirius were still alive that Harry would have suspected this to be one of his godfather's better pranks.
The idea that this could be a prank pushed itself towards the front of Harry's thoughts. His eyes narrowed, even as his heart rate calmed…it was not only the most logical explanation, it was also the best possible outcome. Or at least, something to hope for.
It was a desperate thought, but the plan born from that thought wouldn't make things that much worse if he were wrong. He bravely ducked back inside the tent, then gasped at the sight. Harry really hadn't known what to expect, but whatever it was didn't include perky breasts, tight abs, and a heart-shaped trim.
"Like what you see, Mr. Potter?" the witch asked with a saucy grin.
Harry took a step backwards as his mind raced. It was possible that the aging witch was a secret fitness freak…or maybe there were anti-sagging potions…or maybe…
Deciding that it was a case of "in for a knut, in for a galleon," Harry smiled as an old muggle fairy tale came to mind.
"My, Professor, what big breasts you have!" he said, using words that dripped with false wonder.
The witch's grin faltered for a moment, but only for a moment as she replied, "All the better to dream catch, my dear."
Harry snorted. "Oh, Professor…what strong thighs you have!"
"Well…all the better to squeeze you, my dear."
Harry nodded and smiled in reply and stated, "And my, Professor, what a cute bum you have!"
"Erm…all the better to sit on your face, my dear."
Harry laughed out loud…laughed so hard that he needed to bend over at the waist and hold his sides. From this position, it was easy enough to quietly draw his wand, then quickly stand and catch his target unaware with a spell.
"Accio Hermione!"
Nothing happened, save for the witch's smile turning into a frown.
"Mr. Potter, I'm so disappointed…thinking that I wouldn't want to help you in whatever way possible…."
"Accio Tonks!"
The witch let out a loud "Yelp!" as she was pulled out of the tub and started to fly towards Harry. But she quickly regained her wits, and decided to take advantage of the situation and tackle Harry with open arms and opened legs.
Harry panicked and did the first thing that came to mind. Tonks bounced off of the hastily conjured shield and landed hard on her bum.
"Ouch!" she cried out. But Harry was more interested in a different sound…a quiet giggle that came from the corner of the tent. From the corner of his eye he spotted a lump of airspace that was devoid of mist. And then he spied a trail of wet footprints leading away from the tub towards that lump.
With an evil grin he shot his wand out towards the spot and yelled, "Accio invisibility cloak."
There was another "Yelp" as a small mass of shimmering fabric sped towards Harry, leaving behind a very naked witch.
"Hello, Hermione, I was hoping that you'd visit tonight," he said brightly.
Realizing that Harry was staring straight at her, Hermione was quick to cover her bits with her arms and dash for the towel rack. As the young witch wrapped a towel around herself, Harry turned his gaze back towards the other naked witch. Deciding that he didn't want to wait for Tonks to cover her Naked!Minerva form, Harry levitated a dressing gown off of a wall hook, spread it wide open, then dropped it down onto her head like a tarp.
"Hey!" the Auror complained.
"Tonks, what are you doing here?"
"Keeping tabs on Hermione."
"And part of your tabbing includes imitating naked transfiguration professors?"
"Well, it seemed a shame not to…"
"Yes, yes, brilliant prank, you had me going for a while," Harry said. "Now why don't you keep tabs on the outside of the tent for a little while? Hermione and I need some alone time."
Tonks snorted. "Yeah, I bet you do." She changed back into her preferred form, wrapped the dressing gown around herself, and stood up.
"So what gave me away?" she asked Harry.
"Little Red Riding Hood," Harry replied. "You played along."
"So? My father was a muggle-born. He loved telling me that story when I was young."
Harry nodded. "And Hermione heard it too, I'm sure. But I was also pretty certain that Professor McGonagall grew up in a wizard household."
Tonks snorted. "So she wouldn't have known the 'my, grandma, what nice titties you have' bit, right?"
Harry nodded as he ushered the Auror out the door with a slap on her bum.
"Hey!"
"Drop it, Tonks, before I tell Remus that you were trying to play 'Big Bad Wolf' with me."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Or maybe I should share the pensieve memory with Minerva?"
"Erm…right…I'll be right outside if you need me. Have fun, you two."
And with Tonks' retreat, Harry and Hermione were alone. He turned towards her, looked down at his boxers, then looked at her with a wide grin.
"Finally, a boner that I don't have to feel bad about!"
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "That's rather presumptuous, isn't it Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry, but it's the truth."
"What…that you were excited at what you saw?"
"Not when I was facing Minerva Tonks," Harry quipped. "You, on the other hand…"
As he approached her Hermione took one step back.
He paused, and then said, "Looks like you were enjoying a soak before I interrupted." He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and asked, "Want to hop back in?"
"Erm…Harry, what are you doing?"
"Crossing 'Peeping Tommette' off of the list," he quipped. "And while I'm at it, I didn't see a tattoo, so I'm safe from a dental attack, and I don't see any dungeon equipment set up…you might have qualified as an exhibitionist before you hid under that towel."
"Harry…."
He just smiled as he turned towards the tub and slipped off his boxers. Without a look her way he kicked them towards Hermione as he stepped into the hot tub and sat down.
"Ahhh…feels nice, c'mon, Hermione…the water's great, and you can't beat the company."
Hermione walked towards the tub's rim. "So all of the other girls have said."
"Bah!" scoffed Harry. "Don't worry about what they say or think…I don't."
"You mean you didn't get all cocky at their flirty behavior?"
"Interesting choice of words, Miss Granger," he quipped. "But to answer your question, there's only one witch that I want to get cocky around."
"Really?"
Harry laughed. "Yes, really."
There was a pause.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Testing defenses."
"Mine…..or yours?"
Hermione snorted. "Oh, there's no need to characterize my defenses against your charms, Mr. Potter."
"And why is that?"
His best friend smiled bravely as she dropped the towel to the floor and stepped into the tub.
"Because there's no need for a defense when one is willing to surrender."
Harry thought about that statement she scooted around to sit by his side and allowed him to pull her into a one-armed embrace.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I surrender."
A shiver went down Hermione's spine as she reached up and pulled Harry's head down for a kiss.
When they resurfaced for air a minute or so later, she looked into Harry's adoring eyes.
"Me too."