Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Python Defense
A slightly schizophrenic, occasionally disturbing NC-17 H/Hr fanfic by canoncansodoff

A/N: Chapter 1 was revised 12 hours after first posting to replace the Y6 Quidditch team roster with the correct Year 5 version. Alicia and Angelina are still on the team. This is important, as I was unable to resist having Harry explain his "memories" to all of the witches involved, and not just Hermione. I should know better than to announce the number of chapters in a story before they're posted.

Please remember that this is a crack-fic, not to be taken too seriously.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

oo00OO00oo

Chapter 2 1/4: A less-bawdy start to the middle part

The vial of headache potion was already unstoppered and waiting for Harry when he entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hey, Hermione," he said softly, as he made his way through the crowded room to her place by the fire.

The Fifth-Year Prefect frowned at the sight of her best friend's appearance and shook her head.

"You look terrible, Harry," she said. "Drink up and sit down."

The raven-haired wizard snorted at her assertive behavior (which others far too often characterized as bossiness). He then smiled, took the offered pain-relief potion and replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

While Harry knocked back the potion, Hermione drew her wand and summoned a large fluffy cushion from a couch across the room.

"Hey!" complained Vicky Frobisher, who had been sitting on the other half of that couch.

"What…you aren't using it, are you?" Hermione challenged.

"Erm, no…go ahead," the young witch replied, too scared to challenge the authority of the Prefect, or to risk the wrath of the Daily Prophet's whipping boy.

Hermione nodded, then turned her chair around to face the fire, so that she could make space for the cushion on the floor. Before returning to her seat, she opened the front of robes, revealing jeans-covered legs that straddled Harry's sides when he plopped down onto the floor in front of her.

Hermione pressed her knees against Harry's flanks and leaned down to hug him from behind. Her curly brown hair locks spilled over his shoulders, and her warm breath tickled his ear.

"Just as rough as the other lessons, then?" she asked.

Harry sighed, and nodded as Hermione sat back up and began to massage his temples with her fingertips.

"Worse, actually," he replied. "Snape added a taunting twist to the usual routine."

"How so?" Hermione asked, as she spread her fingers out and raked them backwards against his scalp.

"He…oh, Merlin that feels good," Harry moaned.

Hermione smiled, and repeated the slow front-to-back traverse through his hair. It was one of her guiltiest of pleasures…the close physical contact that Harry allowed her only because he only thought of her as a best friend. The scalp massages, the back rubs, the "Hermy hugs"…all things that he obviously thought were innocuous, but were actually (for her at least) knicker-drenching. And if it hadn't been for this "innocuous" contact during the whole Cho episode…she would have lost it for sure.

But that chapter in Harry's life was thankfully closed now…or at least Hermione prayed that it was closed. Holding her tongue and acting like the best friend that she was (and the best friend that Harry needed) had been the hardest thing in her life. To act as if nothing was wrong, even when her heart was breaking. It had taken Harry's interest in Cho to solidify her own feelings for her best friend…and her determination as well.

And to think that Harry and Ron still thought it coincidence that she had scheduled the Hogsmeade interview with Skeeter on Valentine's Day! She hadn't forced him to choose between Madam Puddifoot's (and Cho) and the Three Broomsticks (and her), but she was thrilled that he had made that choice. And even more thrilled that the choice had driven Cho off.

"Good riddance," she thought. "Just need to wait a few more weeks so as to not be obvious when I jump Harry's bones..."

She indulged herself with a few more passes through his adorably unruly raven locks before she rephrased the question.

"What did Snape do, Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Lived opened his eyes and scanned the room. It was only 2000 hours, and still rather crowded. Ron was in a corner, playing a game of chess with Seamus Finnegan. The Twins were huddling with Lee Jordan over what was likely their latest test product, and Ginny was on the other side of the room…staring back at him with a look that seemed to hover between confusion and concern.

Seeing Ginny reminded Harry that Hermione hadn't been the only victim in Snape's romp through his Loony Tunes mindscape. Her Grimmauld Place towel drop hadn't been something that he'd perved on at all…quite the opposite actually. He didn't really know why the memory even came to mind when Snape said he was going to pilfer his wanking fantasies…other than the fact that it was a generic display of female flesh.

"More boyish then female flesh," clarified a voice in the back of his head.

But the fact remained that Snape had seen Ginny's bum, due to Harry's failed Occlumency barriers.

His mood grew darker. What would Snape do with those other memories? How badly had he put all of the other witches at risk?

He closed his eyes and shook his head despondently.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry knew what was wrong, but he couldn't tell Hermione right there. And the other witches deserved to hear Harry's confession/warning just as much as she did.

"Not here," he whispered.

Hermione nodded, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Maybe we should 'come and go' then?"

Harry opened his eyes at the electrifying phrase "Maybe we should come." But then he completed her sentence in his head, and realized that the Room of Requirement would be a perfect place to tell Hermione…and the other witches as well. And while he was at it, warn everyone in the DA that Snape could passively read minds with simple eye contact.

He nodded, and then whispered, "Have your galleon on you?"

"Always, Harry," Hermione replied.

"Set up an emergency DA meeting to start in a half hour's time, then."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, but trusted Harry enough not to question the need. She gave his shoulders a firm squeeze, then pulled the charmed coin from a pocket, and sent out the meeting notice using Harry's back for cover.

"All set," Hermione announced, as the warm vibration in his pocket confirmed that fact. The four Weasleys, Lee and Seamus all noticed as well…with varying degrees of stealth each checked their DA coins, and then gave Harry and Hermione a head nod in confirmation.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, as he reached up, and gently squeezed a hand that was draped over his shoulder. "Think I'll use the time in between to wash up."

"Okay, Harry," she replied. "I'll wait for you to come back down."

Harry nodded, and then bolted up the stairs to his dormitory.

oo00OO00oo

It wasn't the first time that Harry had stood underneath the shower and relived holding Katie Bell's damp thong, or fantasized about sharing a wash-up with his female teammates. It certainly wasn't the first time he thought of Hermione's upskirt display in the library. The difference, of course, was Snape….the bastard who had turned these cherished images into potential blackmail material.

Harry was using the alone-time moments under the shower to go back over Snape's second attack, and to compile a mental list of actresses who had unknowingly performed for the perverted potions professor. He ignored the older women who had served as diversions…if Snape wanted to act on what he'd "seen" of Molly Weasley or Trelawney within the intentionally repulsive false memories, then so be it. Almost all of the other witches were in the DA, and could be warned off during the upcoming meeting…the exceptions were Fleur, Lisa Turpin and Daphne Greengrass.

Fleur's physical exposure was limited to what her swimming costume had revealed on the Second Task docks, and that was something that dozens of others had seen…and something that Ron still talked about with a wistfully lustful tone of voice. Lisa's situation was far more delicate, but Harry could ask Susan Bones to warn her (so long as Susan wasn't too busy to listen as she hexed Harry's bits off for peeping on them). But what to do about Daphne?

Harry had returned the photographs to the very embarrassed witch when he formally declined the marriage offer. She'd claimed that her father had forced her to pose for the pictures, and that they weren't uncommon attachments to a proposed contract, especially when the offer was made to such an eligible bachelor. Harry had sworn that he hadn't shown the pictures to anyone else, but now he'd managed to break that promise after the fact!

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed. The return of the contract and photographs had sparked the start of what had become a quasi-secret friendly relationship. That the friendship was so improbable allowed Harry to relax in her presence, in a way similar to the camaraderie that he shared with his female Quidditch teammates. He had even indirectly asked if Daphne and her friend Tracy Davis wanted to join his "DADA review group." She had appreciated the offer, but felt that it would be too dangerous for her in Slytherin House if they were found out.

So inviting Daphne to the DA meeting tonight was straight out, and he didn't dare travel back down to the dungeons to warn her in person. But still…it wasn't Daphne's fault, and there had to be something he could do.

An idea came to mind, and Harry called out, "Dobby?"

The house elf appeared instantly with a quiet pop. He took in his surroundings, and then looked up to Harry.

"Dobby is here, Harry Potter, Sir. What can Dobby be doing for the Great Harry Potter? He be needing some soap or a dry towel?"

Harry shook his head, sending splays of water droplets out from his wet unruly locks. "No thank you, Dobby…I was wondering if you be able to deliver a message for me to Daphne Greengrass…she's probably down in Slytherin House right now."

The house elf thought for a moment, and then nodded vigorously.

"Dobby be knowing where Harry Potter's Missy Greenie is. Dobby can do it!"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Erm, Dobby…she's not my Missy Greenie, okay? She's just a friend."

"Dobby understands, Mr. Harry Potter Sir. Dobby knows that the Great Harry Potter wants Harry Potter, Sir's Miss Grangy to be his First Missus."

"What?" Harry asked. "How did you know that, Dobby?"

Dobby gave Harry a quizzical look, as if the answer should be obvious.

"Dobby always be listening for the Great Harry Potter, Sir to call his name," he explained. "So Dobby always be hearing the Great Harry Potter, Sir call for his Miss Grangy, even when the Great Harry Potter, Sir puts a silencing spell on his bed curtains late at night so that he can calls out Miss Grangy's name while he rubs the Great Harry Potter, Sir's Wanking Wand."

Harry closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

"So what's this about Hermione being my First Missus?"

Dobby's eyes lit up. "Dobby be knowing that there be lots of witches who wish being the Great Harry Potter Sirs Missus, and be calling Harry Potter Sir's name while they rub their kitties. Some be thinking how they be sharing the Great Harry Potter Sir's Wanking Wand."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned.

"Something be wrong with what I do, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked timidly.

Harry shook his head, and squatted down to speak to the house elf face to face.

"No, Dobby, you did nothing wrong…I appreciate the fact that you always come when I call and ask for your help."

Dobby's big eyes grew even bigger as tears of joy fell, and he hugged Harry's wet leg with delight.

"Thank You for saying that, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir. You be the bestest most kindest wizard ever!"

"Well, I don't know about that," Harry admitted. "So about that message to Daphne Greengrass…can you tell her that I'm sorry that I can't come to see her myself, but that she should know that Snape knows about the contract and pictures?"

Dobby nodded with great vigor.

"Dobby goes right away and tells Miss Greenie that the Great Harry Potter Sir wishes he could see her, because the Nasty Bat-man does be knowing about the nudie pictures!"

"Well, I wouldn't phrase it quite like that…" Harry replied.

But it was too late, because Dobby had popped away before Harry had gotten a word out. He shook his head, grabbed the wand that was resting on a soap tray, and cast a Tempus spell.

Given a ten minute transit time from Tower to Room of Requirement, and a magic-aided ninety seconds to dry-off and dress, he still had about five minutes to relax under the spray of hot water.

Or so he thought.

Harry was facing the shower room wall and had just swapped out his wand for a bar of soap, when a voice called out.

"Harry?"

A female's voice in the boy's shower room was instantly categorized by Harry's brain as "Not Normal." And since situations that were "Not Normal" for Harry were more often than not life-threatening, his mind went on automatic pilot.

He dropped the soap, grabbed his wand, and twirled to face the intruder. It was only Dobby's voice that stopped a hex from being hurled.

"Don't be shooting, Harry Potter sir, this be Dobby and Miss Greenie!"

Harry squinted, and tried to put a face the voice that…a face that wasn't blurred by steam and myopia.

"Daphne?"

"Don't recognize me this way, Harry?" the witch asked with a smile in her voice.

"Don't have my glasses on," he replied. "Dobby what is going on?"

"Dobby be helping!" the house-elf chirped, as he levitated Harry's glasses onto his face. As the lenses fell in place, the two blurry figures resolved themselves into a towel-wearing house-elf, and a nightgown-wearing witch.

A sheer-black-silk-can-see-her-bits-underneath nightgown, to be more specific.

"Oh, Merlin, Daphne! I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed.

"No worries, Harry…I'm wearing more than you are," Daphne said with a sly smile. "Mind if you lower your wand? I don't have mine with me…as you should be able to clearly see."

Harry's first thought was that it would be impossible to conceal a weapon under the Slytherin's nightie.

Harry's second thought was that the sheer garment was, as she suggested, still more than what he was presently wearing.

"Yelp!" he cried, dropping his hands to cover his bits.

Daphne smiled. "Careful, Harry…wouldn't want you to hex a buttock off…or worse."

Dobby agreed, and with no sense of "personal space" walked up to Harry and pried his hands away from hiding his crotch.

"Miss Greenie be right, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir. The Great Harry Potter Sir must be acting like he's by his lonesome in the shower right now… no hands or towels be covering bits."

"How can I act like I'm alone when she's standing right there, dressed like that?" Harry asked in frustration.

Dobby smiled. "Dobby be using his elf-magic on Miss Greenie, and making her indivisible."

Daphne snorted. "Well that's good to know…wouldn't want to be splinched."

"He meant invisible, didn't you Dobby?" Harry asked.

The house-elf nodded his head. "Only the Great Harry Potter Sir be hearing or seeing his Miss Greenie, but Dobby can only be doing this to one witch or wizard at a time, so…"

"So only I can see and hear Daphne, but everyone and still hear and see me?"

Dobby nodded, and then turned to Daphne.

"Miss Greenie be calling Dobby when she wants to be leaving," he stated, just before he popped away.

"Oh, shit!" Harry muttered, looking at the empty airspace where his friend had just been. "Sometimes, Dobby…."

"What's that Harry?" Daphne asked.

Harry looked up at the Slytherin witch and gasped. The steam and humidity of the shower room had made the thin fabric of her nightgown cling to her bare skin, and was now more transparent than translucent.

He shook his head, and turned away, trying to clear his head of the erotic image.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Daphne asked coyly. "You've seen far more of me than this?"

"Not in real life, though," he admitted.

"Like what you see, then, Harry?"

"Too much so, I'm afraid."

"Why is that, Harry?" she asked, as she walked behind him and pinched his bum.

"Daphne, you're making this impossible!" Harry closed his eyes tight and then asked, "What are you doing here?"

The Slytherin witch smiled, and shook her head. "Ask your house-elf, Harry. He popped up unannounced in my room…scared the daylights out of me, by the way…and said that you wanted to talk to me and was sorry that it couldn't be face to face. I said that I wished that we could speak face-to-face more often as well, and next thing you know he grabbed my hand and brought me here. Here being…Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry sighed. "Dobby is always looking out for my needs. Sometimes he's a little too eager to meet them."

"Your needs, Harry?" Daphne asked with interest. "You were standing here naked in the shower, and you needed me?"

"No, no….I mean, well….yes I did need to talk with you, but I didn't intend Dobby to pull you here in your…pajamas…and with me…"

"It's okay, Harry," Daphne said brightly. "Makes us even in a way, doesn't it?"

Harry snorted.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Daphne?"

"I won't mind if you open your eyes, and even if I did…my wand is back in the dungeons."

"I can't."

"Why is that, Harry?" she asked. "Soap in your eye?"

Harry snorted. "More like Snape in my head."

"What's that?"

"Snape," Harry hissed. "He's been teaching me to…did you know that he can read minds?"

"Sure, everybody in my house knows better than to look straight in his eyes. There's talk about him being a fully-trained Legilimens as well."

"Well, the talk is true, I'm afraid," said Harry. "And that's why I needed to warn you. Snape got into my head and saw the memory of me getting that marriage contract. And seeing the pictures of you."

"Oh," she said softly. There was a pause, and then she asked, "But why does that mean you need to keep your eyes shut?"

"Because the bloody wanker rummaged through all of the memories that I…that get me excited, and, well…I don't want him seeing you the way you are right now the next time he makes a run at my brain."

Daphne chuckled. "Oh, Harry, always the brave protective Gryffindor protecting a lady's honor." She reached out and touched Harry's arm. "Would it help if I told you that we're fairly certain that our Head of House can monitor every room in our House?"

"Really?" Harry asked. "You mean he can sneak peeks of you and the other witches taking showers, or getting dressed, or..."

"Yeah," she replied. "It's something that we've learned to live with. The few that have complained to Dumbledore over the years have paid the price for speaking out…not really healthy to upset a Potions Master who has access to your room, and your belongings…"

"That's outrageous!"

"It's how it is, Harry," Daphne replied. "I just try not to think of it…worse off for the boys, of course."

"What?" Harry asked.

With eyes closed, he couldn't see the mock look of concern on Daphne's face.

"Oh my, did I just let out a House secret?"

"Merlin, please tell that you didn't…it'll make me worry even more the next time he makes a go at me."

"Okay, so I won't tell you that I didn't," the Slytherin witch said with a smile.

"Oy, Potter!" called out a male voice.

"Oh shit, that's Ron!" Harry hissed.

"Guess we'll see of your little friend's magic is up to snuff," Daphne said. "Might want to remove your glasses, though."

"Thanks," Harry hissed, yanking them from his face.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked, sticking his head into the shower room. "Hermione's going to bust a blood vessel if you don't get back down to the Common Room."

"Guess he really can't see me," Daphne said from behind Harry. "Wonder if he can hear me…HEY WEASEL! I WANT HARRY POTTER'S WAND UP MY SLEEVE!"

"Wha…"

"Something wrong, mate?" Ron asked.

"Guess that he can't hear me either," Daphne cooed. She walked right behind Harry and wrapped her arms around him. She raked her fingernails across his chest, nibbled on his ear, and whispered. "But you can see me, and hear me, and feel me, Harry….can't you?"

"Uh-huh," he moaned.

"What's that, Harry?"

"Erm…nothing…I'm just trying to clean off the slime I feel every time that I have a Remedial Potions les….son…"

"Slime, Harry?" Daphne asked with a giggle. "Like your shags all muddy and messy, then?"

Ron frowned as Harry tried to ignore the banter, and the invisible hands that made it hard to talk.

"Erm…right, then," said the confused red-headed wizard.

"Oh, Harry?" Daphne cooed. "Want to try an experiment? I'm wondering…if I'm invisible, and I go down on you, would Ron think that your willie disappeared?"

The only answer Harry thought he could safely provide was to reach back and give Daphne's bum a slap.

"Hey!" Daphne chirped.

"You just hear something, mate?" Ron asked.

"Erm, no…did you?

"Yeah, it sounded like you just hit something when you waved your hand."

"Interesting," said Daphne. "He can't hear or see me, but he heard the slapping noise…makes me want to try that other experiment even more…"

When Harry felt Daphne slip down onto her knees and give his bum a love-bite, he decided that drastic action was needed. He pulled her hands away, and jumped out of her grasp.

"Come back here, Harry!" Daphne pouted.

He shook his head and waved her away.

"You sure that you're okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry admitted. "But who would be, after one of Snape's lessons."

"Good point," Ron replied. "Still…looks like you were swatting at something invisible…"

All of a sudden, Ron grew a wide smile on his face.

"Putting your invisibility cloak to use, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"What?" asked Daphne. "I didn't know you had one of those, Potter?"

Ron waggled his eyebrows. "Brilliant idea, mate." He then looked behind Harry and said, "Plan on following behind us to the meeting, Cho?"

"What?" Harry demanded.

"What?" demanded Daphne. "I didn't know you were shagging Cho Chang, Potter!"

"I'm not!" Harry shouted.

Ron cocked his head, looking for a glimpse of something he didn't see.

"Erm, sure mate. Whatever you say…course I'd be more worried if I didn't know that Ginny was already downstairs."

"Shagging his sister, too?" asked Daphne.

"No!" Harry shouted.

Ron chuckled, and gave a glance back towards the shower.

"I'd shake your hand and congratulate you, mate…but I wouldn't want to get any of that Snape slime on me, would I?"

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel.

"I'll be downstairs in a few minutes Ron."

Ron smiled, gave him a wink and a nudge, and walked out of the lav.

Once he was gone, Harry turned on Daphne.

"You little minx, you!" he chided.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Daphne replied. "Come back here, and let me make it up to you."

Harry sighed, and shook his head.

"I'm going to assume that this was cosmic payback for me seeing those pictures," he said. "I really have liked getting to know, Daphne, but if you are thinking that there might be something between us…"

Daphne chuckled, and stood up.

"Throwing me away like a wet dishrag, Harry?"

"Well, you are rather wet, right now," he said with a smirk. "Look, you are dead-drop gorgeous, and a great friend, and any bloke would be thrilled to see you like this…"

"But, Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Live snorted. "Yeah, there's a but there. And right now I've got to go and warn some of those butts that Snape saw them in my head."

Daphne smiled. "Oh, my, good luck on that."

"Thanks."

"So let me know how it goes, okay?" she asked. "If things don't work out with her…"

"I'm not seeing Cho, Daphne!"

"Did I cough-Granger-cough say any specific witch's name, Harry?" she teased. "I was just saying that if you've still got your bits after tonight, and really do have an invisibility cloak…not that your house-elf couldn't provide direct room-to-room transport again…."

"Harry!" a witch shouted from the base of the dormitory's stairs. "Time to go!"

Daphne snorted at the sound of Hermione Granger's voice. She stepped up to Harry, planted a short but tender kiss on the tip of his nose, and said, "Me too, I guess…good luck with her, Harry."

Harry nodded, said thanks, and rushed out to dress before Hermione stormed up the stairs.

oo00OO00oo

Harry looked nervously towards the group of DA members who had hastily assembled within the Room of Requirement. Ron looked befuddled, wondering how in Merlin's name Cho Chang had managed to beat them to the Seventh Floor, but that was more or less a normal facial expression for him, and nobody noticed.

The Boy-Who-Lived began by thanking everyone for coming on short notice, and said that he wouldn't have done it had it not been important. He then waited for someone like Zacharias Smith to bitch and moan, and was therefore pleasantly surprised when his introduction was met was silent attention.

With a nervous finger run through his messy black hair, he continued on, and broke the news that Hogwarts's Potion Master had the power to read a person's surface thoughts without needing to cast a spell. More than half of the students didn't know that you could read minds even with the right spell, so Harry took the time to explain Legilimency. He emphasized that holding eye contact with a victim made access that much easier, and suggested always trying to avoid looking Snape or Dumbledore in the eyes.

While the information was relatively well received, some questioned the urgency of its delivery.

"So that's it then?" asked Seamus. "Best not to look Snape in the eyes? What's with the rush to deliver that bit of obvious advice?"

"Erm, well…there's more to warn about," Harry admitted. He looked down at the floor, until Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand for support.

"There's a special way to defend yourself not just from the eye contact attack, but from the much stronger Legilimens spell," he stated. "It's called Occlumency, and Snape has been teaching it to me since Christmas hols."

"Really?" asked Neville. "So that's really what you were doing instead of taking Remedial Potions lessons?"

"Right in one, Nev," Harry said with a thin smile.

"Why the need for secrecy?" asked Cho Chang.

"Erm, well…the Headmaster thought it best if we stayed quiet about this training," said Harry. He then added, somewhat evasively, "Headmaster has his reasons, I imagine."

"So that's the extra bit of news?" asked Seamus.

"No, not at all," replied Harry. "The thing is, the only way to test whether you're able to block somebody from reading your thoughts is …is to have somebody try to read your thoughts."

"You mean you let Snape rummage about in your head?" asked Ernie Macmillan.

"Didn't have much say in the matter, and it's certainly not by my choice," Harry said curtly.

"So he's seen memories or thoughts that you didn't want him to see, Harry?" Luna asked quietly.

Harry turned to the Ravenclaw witch and nodded. "I'm afraid so, Luna. You all know how much Snape hates me, and he hasn't been shy about forcing me to relive painful memories, or times when I've been weak and powerless."

"Fucking…"

"Bastard!" Fred and George swore in stereo.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "You can say that again. I've gotten used to it, and actually managed to make headway in keeping him out of my head, but tonight…tonight I angered him, and he retaliated. Instead of stealing the normal types of memories that were embarrassing for me, he gathered memories that were much more embarrassing for others."

"Others, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Like your friends?"

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded. "He was rather ruthless…anything that he might be able to humiliate me with, or use to alienate me from my friends and classmates."

"So what did he get, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Well…that's rather personal, don't you think?"

Ron scowled. "Not if it includes that time that you walked in on me in the lav when I was…"

The youngest male Weasley stopped himself when he heard the snickering.

Harry couldn't stop the corner of his lips to curl upwards.

"No Ron," he replied. "Snape didn't pull that memory from me."

"Oh, right…never mind," Ron replied with a blush.

A deep breath was taken before Harry explained more fully.

"Snape focused his efforts on the part of my brain that thinks about…well…."

"Sex?" asked Katie Bell.

"Erm….yeah…sex."

"So that'd be almost all of your noggin, eh, Harry?" Katie joked.

"Well, I don't know about that," Harry replied sullenly. "He sort of tricked me, you see, into worrying about…things…that I've seen...things that I found exciting. Things that I..."

"Get a stiffy thinking about?" chirped Fred.

Harry closed his eyes tight, and nodded slightly.

"I'm so sorry, guys...I tried to stop him, but I just couldn't..."

"Erm...Harry?" asked Ron.

The despondent Gryffindor reopened his eyes.

"Yes?"

"When you just apologized to 'you guys' about having randy thoughts…were you really talking to just the blokes, or was it...what's that word, Hermione?"

"Generic?"

"Yeah, generic...that's the one." Ron replied.

Harry couldn't help but to chuckle. "Yes Ron, it was a generic 'you guys'."

"Whew...had me worried there for a moment, mate."

Many of the female DA members laughed at Ron's worries. But it was a strange kind of laughter...a mixture, really. Some of it was nervous laughter, while others was more…hopeful?

Harry wasn't certain. But he was certain that what he needed to confess didn't need to be shared with those it didn't affect.

"So…since I disappointed Snape by not having any wanking fantasies involving Ron, or any of you other guys…and I mean wizard guys…there's no need for you to hang around to hear the dirty details."

"Are you sure, about that Harry?" asked Colin Creevey.

"Yes, Colin, I'm certain."

"Oh, poo!" the boy whined.

"Hey, that's my line!" Luna complained.

Hermione took a step forward from Harry's side and said, "So, boys…as Harry says, he's quite certain that your presence is no longer required...and I'm sure all of the witches in the room share those feelings."

The other witches in the room did indeed share that opinion, and ordered the boys to shove off. They went willingly, for the most part, and all made sure to shake Harry's hand and offer their condolences.

"Sucks to be you right now, mate," Dean said grimly.

"Never have envied your lot in life, Harry," Neville added, as he looked at the collection of witches. "But now I really don't."

George stepped up to Harry next, and pulled him into a corner of the room. Once their privacy was assured, he handed Harry a small bit of knitting.

"Fred and I were planning on rounding up some test subjects later this week," George explained. "But…you might want to give this a go tonight."

Harry looked down at the object and furrowed his eyebrows. It looked like a miniature knit cap, with an open end that was roughly two inches in diameter.

"What is it, George?"

"We've adapted our Headless Hats for the protection of your other head," the Twin whispered.

"My other head?" Harry asked. "You mean this little hat will make my bits disappear if I slip it onto my willie?"

"Exactly," George grinned.

"Why would I want to put anything you two have invented anywhere near my bits?"

George snorted. "It's perfectly safe, Harry…I've tested it myself."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "So you've already…worn…this thing, and now want me to pop it on?"

"Harry…would I do that to you? We've applied auto-cleaning charms, of course…a resizing spell as well, in case the fit is a little too…well, in your case, we'll assume the fit would be too snug."

"Erm…I'll take that as a complement…I guess," Harry hissed cautiously. "What I don't get is how making my John Thomas disappear would help me any?"

"Well, Mate, the girls won't be able to hex off your bits if they can't see them, right?"

Harry winced, chuckled, and shook his head all at the same time.

"Thanks for the thought," he replied. "But I'm afraid that I've taught the DA enough area-effect spells to make accurate targeting unnecessary."

"Ah…good point," the red-haired Twin said with a smirk. "We'll be sure you get a proper wake, then…"

George looked over his shoulder and back towards the other. He spotted his brother, who was having a hushed conversation with Padma Patil, and called out, "Won't we Fred?"

"Won't we what, O Brother of mine?"

"Ensure a properly inebriated send-off should Harry not survive the night."

"Of course we will," Fred replied with a smile, just as the Ravenclaw witch passed a small money pouch into his hand. He gave Padma a handshake, then strolled over to continue the conversation from closer in.

Harry nodded back towards Padma.

"What was that about?"

"Just a financial transaction," Fred said with a smile.

George matched his brother's grin. "Which pool did she put money down on…the day Harry and…a certain witch…shag, or the next day that he's forced to spend a night in the Infirmary?"

"Neither," Fred replied. "She asked for odds on a side bet."

"What did she want odds on?" Harry asked warily.

"For the likelihood that you and that witch shag and you are admitted to the Infirmary, all on the same night."

Harry rolled his eyes, while George's eyes lit up.

"Does it have to be his girlfriend that puts him in Poppy's care?" the Twin asked.

Fred shook his head and smirked. "No, she was afraid that one of the others might beat her to it."

George nodded sagely. "Smart witch, that Padma…how about the reason for medicinal care?"

"Left that one open, as well," Fred snorted. "She couldn't decide whether it'd be hexed bits or exhausted bits."

Fred and George shared a laugh as they shook Harry's hand and wished him luck under either scenario. As they headed for the door, Harry noticed that Ron was still there, and was the last wizard in the room besides himself.

Ron turned to Hermione and asked, "Want to walk back to the Tower with me, Hermione?"

"What?"

"Walk back to the Tower with me?" Ron repeated. "I was hoping you could look over my Transfiguration essay. Harry probably needs help as well, and this way you can write mine while he's still busy here with the witches."

"Ronald Weasley, of all the cheek!"

"What?" he asked.

"Hermione needs to stay here, Ron," Harry said softly.

It was Ron's turn to raise his voice.

"What did you say?"

Harry glanced over towards Hermione, whose eyes were wide within an expression that he couldn't decipher. He turned back to Ron and repeated, "I need Hermione to stay here with the other witches."

"Whatever for, mate?"

Harry's mind raced at the question, and he stood there speechless. He certainly didn't want to have Hermione learn of his feelings for her this way. But he didn't need to, as Hermione stepped in with eyes that were now narrow and dangerous looking.

"Harry asked for all of the female DA members to stay back, Ron, and as you so eloquently noted last year, I am a girl."

"Yes, but you're….you're Hermione!"

The bushy-haired witch rolled her eyes, and decided to nip the nascent argument in the bud, just to get rid of the git.

"Think, Ron," she said icily. "Harry needs me to stay…I was the one that paced in front of the door. That means that I have to be the last one to leave."

"Oh," said the red-haired wizard. He visibly relaxed and added, "Guess that makes sense."

"I'm glad that I have your approval, Ronald," Hermione said sternly. "And don't wait on my help with that essay…it won't be forthcoming."

"Erm…okay," Ron said, as he walked out the door. "No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Oh!" Hermione hissed, once the door closed.

"Sorry about that, Hermione," said Harry. He wanted to tell her that there was more than one reason for her to stay back, but didn't have the nerve to do so, even now that Ron was gone from the audience.

"It's not your fault that he is such a git," she replied, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Harry nodded, and turned back towards the other female DA members. Their faces showed the range of emotions that he'd detected before in their laughter…many were nervous, some curious, and one or two seemed excited by the possibilities.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the right one or two that seemed eager to learn that they had starred in Harry's dirty dreams.

"So," he said nervously, "I'm guessing that at least a few of you might have a good idea of why you are here."

Katie Bell shared a look with her fellow Gryffindor Chasers and the three all broke out into a fit of giggles and high-fives. This caused Harry to blush and Hermione's eyebrows to rise up towards her hairline.

"I don't think I want to know that that's all about," she said.

"Good point," Harry said quickly. "Look, this is really embarrassing for me, and probably will be for some of you. Wish there were a way that this could be done with as little embarrassment as possible."

"Oh, Harry, darling," Lavender purred, in an obviously over-the-top embellishment. "I'd be more thrilled then embarrassed if you thought of me that way."

"Oh, Harry, darling….me too!" cooed Katie as she winked at him.

"As long as we're all here…maybe we should help Harry create some more lusty memories for Snape to steal," added Angelina.

"You aren't making this any easier for me, you know," Harry complained, as the Chasers broke out in more laughter.

"Oh, Harry…if we couldn't laugh about it, we'd have to cry," Katie replied.

Hermione sensed that Harry was losing control of the situation, so she volunteered herself to take charge.

"I've got a suggestion," she stated. "We'll ask the Room to change into two separate rooms. Harry will be in one of these rooms, and each of us will meet with him one at a time to talk privately about…whatever needs talking about. That way, nobody has to be embarrassed more than is necessary."

"Good idea," said Lavender. "That way, we won't feel embarrassed if we're not the star in at least one of Harry's wet dreams!"

As Hermione had noted to Ron, she had been the one to do the pacing in front of the Room's doorway, and therefore in charge of requesting any modifications to its setup. She herded everyone towards the Room's entrance, told them to all close their eyes to avoid the vertigo, and then imagined what she now truly needed.

Well, to be honest…her first preference would have been a cozy little love nest with a big bed that Harry could shag her senseless on, but she could only dream of him seeing her as more than a best friend, and as that best friend, she had Harry's needs foremost.

The Room seemed to understand that subtle difference.

When the group opened their eyes, they found themselves in a slightly smaller version of the comfortable sitting room they'd first entered, with an opened doorway now built into the opposite wall. They collectively stepped forward, and peered inside this door, finding a small area with a lit fireplace, two chairs, and a small side table in between. Harry's eyes zoomed in on the large box of Kleenex that sat on top of this table, and wondered whether the Room reckoned it'd be needed for crying eyes or his bloodied nose.

Probably both, he decided.

"Any particular order, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He glanced around at the different faces, and then shook his head.

"Best it be some random order, or else you might be trying to figure out patterns that might not be there."

Hermione smiled. "You know me too well, don't you Harry?"

He returned her smile, and forgot for a few seconds that there were others in the room. He grabbed her hands and said, "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Hem, Hem!" growled Lavender, doing her best Umbridge impersonation. The sound was more than enough to cause Harry to drop his grip on Hermione's hand, and to take a few steps back.

"Erm…since you need to leave the room last, I guess that you'll need to go last, then?" he asked.

"That makes sense," Hermione replied. She then spied a cup sitting on a table next to her that contained small stones bearing the necessary quantity of unique numbers.

"Guess the Room thought it a good idea as well," she added with a smile, as she picked up the cup and raised it to eye level.

"Go on in, Harry…I'll have everyone else draw for numbers, and mind the door.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said with a smile. He then entered the smaller room, closed the door, and waited nervously by the box of Kleenex.