The Python Defense
A bawdy and slightly disturbing NC-17 H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff
A/N: This is a crack-fic. Relax and have fun. Bring some bleach, just in case.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
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Chapter 2 ¾: A happy, smutty end to the middle (once Ginny exits)
Ginny stared at the bushy-haired gatekeeper as she walked through the doorway.
"So, Hermione…now that it's my turn, you don't need to hold my Extendable Ear in protective custody, right?"
The Fifth-Year Prefect rolled her eyes, and handed over Ginny's personal version of the Twin's magical eavesdropping device.
Harry frowned. "You weren't trying to listen in on the other conversations, were you Ginny?"
"No, of course not," she replied. "Not that she believed me," waving towards Hermione. "Made me hand it over before Cho even walked in."
Harry snorted at the second eye roll that Hermione performed behind Ginny's back.
The red-haired witch sat down next to Harry, smiled, and forgave him in advance for all of the times that he's used her naked body within his smutty dreams.
She wasn't quite as forgiving when Harry told her that the only thing that Snape had been able to find within his "smutty memories" involving her was the bum-baring towel-drop.
"What do you mean you don't remember seeing anything other than my bum?" Ginny demanded. "How could you forget the time that you saw my bits when I was naked in bed?"
Harry frowned. "When did that happen?"
"Oh, right," Ginny whined. "As if you could just forget what you yelled while I was in the middle of my third orgasm."
"Humor me, then," Harry asked. "What did I yell when you were in the middle of your third orgasm?"
Ginny's lips broke into a sly grin. "You said, 'Quit humping me!'."
Harry coughed violently. "I…cough…you were…cough…humping me in bed?"
"Erm yeah, sort off," she explained. "It was actually my Harry Potter plushy that I had between my legs, but you failed to appreciate the difference."
"Oh." Harry gasped. He then added, "And you're certain that this happened?"
Ginny shrugged. "Of course, Harry…not something a girl would forget, don't you think? The way that you stood right there and watched me with your mouth wide open, you were so excited…"
"Could have just as easily been shock," Harry replied. "So what made me walk into your room uninvited like that?"
Ginny giggled. "What makes you think that you weren't invited…or that you found me in my room?"
"You mean you were…can't decide what's crazier," Harry muttered. "You wanting me to see you doing that, or you doing that in my bed."
"It was both," Ginny offered.
Harry shook his head and moaned. "So when did this supposedly happen?"
"Last Summer, just before your trial," Ginny replied. "Are you sure that you don't remember it, Harry?"
"Quite certain."
"Hmmm…there was that bludger hit to the head that you took during Quidditch try-outs last fall…maybe that did something."
"Perhaps."
"Maybe if I re-enact it, that would jog your memory?" the red-haired witch offered.
"No, thanks…that's…quite alright," Harry stammered. A different thought then came to mind that wasn't any less disturbing, but might provide some answers. He stood up from his chair, and started to walk towards the door.
"Where are you going, Harry?" asked Ginny.
"Need to ask Hermione a question."
"But what would she know about this?"
"Hush!" Harry hissed, as he opened the door.
"No, I'm serious," Ginny whined.
Harry thought about replying with his godfather's standard line, but didn't want Ginny to think that he valued bantering with her.
"Right," he therefore replied.
When he poked his head through the doorway, Harry spied Hermione sitting on a couch pushed up against the opposite wall…about as far away from his position as possible. She had been staring at the floor with her hands worrying themselves, but when she heard the door open her eyes flashed towards it and her hands froze in place.
"Need something, Harry?" she quickly asked.
The Boy-Who-Lived got most of an "I might" response out before his voice faltered at Ginny's touch.
"We might," the red-haired witch corrected, placing a protective arm around Harry's waist.
Harry gave Ginny a stern look as he wiggled out of her grasp and entered the front room.
"Ginny here thinks that I should have remembered something that I can't for the life of me remember," he said.
"And would rather have it stay that way," he thought.
"Yes, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Is there something I can do to help?"
"Yeah, actually, there might just be," he replied, as he crossed the room and sat next to the bushy-haired witch.
Ginny was rather upset that there wasn't room for her to squeeze in on Harry's other side, and took it out on the chair that she flopped down upon. There was a loud scraping noise as she scooted the chair across the floor, until it was physically touching the shared love seat.
Harry frowned at this action, even as he tried to ignore it. He turned to Hermione and asked, "Do you remember about a month ago, when I gave you a small package and asked you to keep it safe for me?"
Hermione nodded. "Of course, Harry."
"I know that it's getting late, but could you get it for me…or maybe allow Dobby to fetch it for you from the Tower?"
Hermione cocked her head, then shook it as she reached for her ever-present book bag.
"No need to do that, Harry…I've got it here with me."
"Really?" asked Harry, arching an eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she rummaged through her rucksack. "I threw it into the moke skin pouch that you gave me for Christmas," she explained.
"Oh, that makes sense," Harry replied with a smile.
Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she held herself from saying anything about how nice a gift that was (totally ignoring the fact that he had given her a "friendship" bracelet that had easily cost twice as much). She didn't shy away, however, from a little snarkiness.
"Isn't it a little dangerous keeping something that he asked you to protect in your bag?"
"Not really," Hermione replied with a shrug. "The pouch is charmed so that only I can open it, and I added a charm that makes it easier for me to find it if it goes missing, or if somebody takes it."
"Also hard for anyone else to mistake it for their pouch," Harry said with a smile.
Hermione stopped her search for a moment, so that she could share that smile.
"Except maybe you, huh?" she asked, with eyes that sparkled.
The reason for the sparkling eye portion of this response became clear to Ginny once Hermione retrieved the fist-sized pouch…Harry had paid extra to have one of Colin's wizarding pictures embedded into the inside of the flap. Ginny scowled as she watched the picture animate.
Harry and Hermione's faces are shown in profile, as they stand side-by-side. Large fluffy snowflakes fall, and the two try to catch them on the tips of their tongues. Hermione succeeds straight away, but Harry isn't as quick. When she turns and teases him about his seeker skills, he gets even by leaning over and licking a snowflake off from her nose. They both laugh, and then the wizarding photograph loops back to the start.
"Something wrong, Ginny?" Harry asked, as he raised an eyebrow.
"Erm, no…not at all," she replied, looking down towards her hands, which were clenched in her lap. The bracelet that Harry had given her, engraved "To my kid sister Ginny, from Harry", hung limply from her wrist.
"Here we go," Hermione stated, as she pulled the small wooden box from the pouch.
"Thanks," Harry said, as he took the box and cast an opening charm on it.
Inside were six small stoppered bottles, filled with strands of gray mist.
"What are they, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"Memories."
"Memories of what?"
"I don't know," Harry replied with a shrug. "Other then the fact that they are things that I didn't want to remember."
"How does that work, exactly?" asked Ginny.
"The Headmaster owns a rune-covered stone basin called a pensieve," Harry explained. "It's a storage device of sorts that he's loaned to Snape. Before every one of my Remedial Potions lessons, Snape pulls certain memories out of his brain and sticks them in the bowl, just in case something were to happen and I were to reverse his Legilimens attack and enter his head."
"So if you pull the memory out of your head, you no longer remember what it contains?"
"That's the idea," Harry said with a nod. "I've watched him do this enough times to figure out how to do it myself. Didn't have a basin to store them in, so I used these little bottles instead, one per memory."
"You think that one of the things that Ginny thinks you should remember might be inside one of these bottles?"
Harry shrugged. "It's a possibility. I also could have been Obliviated."
"How would you know?" asked Ginny.
Harry bit his lower lip in thought. "There's two ways, I think. I could just open the vials and shepherd the memory strings back inside my brain…but that would sort of defeat the whole purpose of me pulling them in the first place."
"But what's the alternative?" asked Hermione.
"Get hold of Dumbledore's pensieve," Harry replied. "Except that I'm certain that it's still in Snape's office, and I don't fancy running back down there right now."
"I'll go, Harry," Hermione offered.
The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head. "Too dangerous."
"But she's the brightest witch in her generation, Harry," Ginny noted. "And a Prefect as well."
"Yes, but still…wouldn't want to risk it. Especially since I've got a better idea…Dobby?"
Harry's hyper-eager friend appeared with a pop.
"Yes, Mister Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked. "Does the Great Harry Potter, Sir be wanting Dobby to be fetching Miss Greenie again?"
"Erm, no Dobby," Harry said quickly, casting a nervous glance towards an intrigued bushy-haired witch. He paid no mind to Ginny's reaction…not that there was one, as the younger witch hadn't spent nearly enough time around Harry's diminutive friend to understand his patois.
"Do you remember when you fetched some gillyweed from the nasty Bat-Man's office?"
"Harry!" Hermione admonished.
"What?" Harry said with a grin. "It's Dobby's description…not mine!"
"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir," the House-Elf said brightly. "Dobby remembers."
"Do you think that you could still get into the nasty Bat-Man's office?"
Dobby thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Nasty Bat-Man be putting extra-nasty protections on his supply closet, but Dobby be being able to get to the rest of the office."
"That's great," Harry said. "Is the nasty Bat-Man in his office right now?"
Dobby thought, and then shook his head. "The nasty Bat-Man be…be doing nasty things to himself in his quarters."
Harry grimaced. "Right, that's good then…well, it's not, but…would you be willing to do another favor for me, Dobby?"
The House-Elf nodded with a predictable level of vigor.
"Thanks, Dobby… in nasty Bat-Man's office, there be being a stone basin that belongs to the Headmaster…would Dobby be thinking that he would be able to be bringing that basin here?"
Dobby closed his eyes and thought, as his small body trembled.
"Would Dobby be thinking,, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Sssh!" Harry hissed.
Dobby disappeared before he replied to Harry one way or the other. A few minutes later, he returned with the pensieve balanced perilously atop his head. Harry snatched it away and set the stone object down onto a low table before the weight toppled the poor House-Elf over.
"Thanks, Dobby…you're the best," Harry replied.
The House-Elf blushed, jumped up and down, and said all of the predictable things about how great Harry was.
"So now what do we do?" Ginny asked.
Harry frowned. "Good question, actually…you two could dive into each memory and experience it for yourselves, except…"
"Except what?"
"Except they might be something terrible…something that I wouldn't want you two to experience either. Or…something terribly embarrassing that I wouldn't want you to see."
"Like what?"
"Erm, dunno…maybe me getting caught…well, you know, in the shower…or in my bed…"
"I'll take that risk," Ginny said with a grin.
"Ginny!" Hermione scolded.
"Dobby be being able to help, if Mister Harry Potter, Sir if the Great Harry Potter, Sir be wanting it," announced the House-Elf.
Harry looked at Dobby for a moment, and then reluctantly smiled.
"You're able to view memories in pensieves, Dobby?"
The House-Elf nodded.
"Thanks, Dobby, that'd be a big help," Harry replied. "But I want you to be safe, okay…I just want you to view each memory for a few seconds, and then come back out and tell us who is in the memory."
"Dobby be able to help the Great Harry Potter Sir that way!" the House-Elf announced.
After Hermione's concern was noted, and Dobby was warned once again not to stay too long within each memory, Harry dumped the first vial into the bowl. Dobby stood up on top of the table, and leaned his head into the bowl. His legs were so short that Harry had to grab them to keep Dobby from falling completely into the basin.
Dobby pulled his head out five seconds after he dived into the memory.
"This be being a nasty memory of the Great Harry Potter, Sir's, nasty Aunt that he be blowing up. She be playing with her dog."
"What's so nasty about a woman playing with her dog?" Ginny asked.
"I don't even want to think about the possibilities," Harry decided with a shudder. He quickly scooped that memory out of the bowl, and replaced it with another.
Dobby dived in.
"This be being a memory of the Great Harry Potter, Sir and his Weasley."
Ginny smiled broadly, and started to say something, but Harry cut her off.
"Which Weasley, Dobby?"
"The Weasley with the red-hair," the House-Elf replied.
"We all have red hair," Ginny said with exasperation. "Was it me?"
Dobby shook his head. "It be being The Great Harry Potter Sir in his bedroom with his not-as-bestest friend Ronald."
Harry's face paled.
"Oh, no," he moaned. "Don't tell me that…."
"Relax, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing hold of his arm. "Maybe it's not what you think?"
"I hope that it isn't," Harry replied. "Don't think I want to…but…fuck!"
"Language, Harry," Hermione said reflexively. She then turned to Dobby and quietly asked, "Dobby…are Harry and Ron….touching each other…in the memory?"
Dobby shook his head, eliciting a sigh of relief from Harry.
"Were they watching each other as they touched themselves, Dobby?"
"Ginny!" Hermione scolded.
Dobby was shaking his head before she had the chance to tell him not to answer.
"Wonder what was wrong, then?" Harry said.
"Would you…maybe Dobby could whisper what he saw to me?" Hermione offered.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, go ahead…I'll trust you'll know what to do with what Dobby saw."
The House-Elf nodded, jumped over onto Hermione's lap, and whispered into the witch's ear. What he said made her eyes bulge, her cheeks flush deep red, and her lips to forget their recent admonishment.
"No fucking way!" she exclaimed.
"Language!" Harry teased.
"No fuck….Harry, I can't believe it's what Dobby thinks he saw Ron doing…I've got to see this for myself."
"Is it…are you sure…."
"Look, if it's just as awful for me to see what was going on as it was for you, you could always teach me how to extract the memory of me seeing it, right?"
Harry frowned. "What did Dobby think he saw Ron doing?"
Hermione looked at Harry, with cheeks puffed out as if she were about to burst. She then looked at Ginny, and they did.
Amongst long stretches of uncontrollable laughter, Hermione gasped out the following words.
"Harry!" laugh-laugh-laugh Walked in! laugh-laugh-laugh "Ron!" laugh-laugh-laugh "Shagging!" laugh-laugh-laugh "Shepherd's pie!"
It took Ginny much longer to sort out the sentence structure then Harry. So by the time she demanded to see for herself, he'd already scooped up the memory from the bowl.
"We'll take that as read and move on, I think." he stated.
Fate was enjoying the scene so much that it ensured that the memory that Harry and Ginny were searching for was the last that Dobby screened. Before getting there, and having Dobby pronounce that "Harry Potter Sir's Weasel Fan-Girly be shagging her dolly!" they learned that Harry had tried to distance himself from memories involving Molly and Arthur, his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and Colin together with very own Harry Potter doll.
As soon as the memory review was complete, Harry asked Dobby to return the pensieve to Snape's office, and then to bring three more stoppered vials to the Room of Requirement. When Ginny asked why, Harry explained that he had no desire to remember being told by Dobby what he had tried to forget, and that he planned on extracting the memory of the entire memory of his discussion with Ginny from his head. He then added that he thought Hermione and Ginny might want to do the same.
Hermione quickly agreed, more for Harry's benefit then her own…if given a choice she would have held onto the thought of Ron plowing a pie.
Ginny, however, flat out refused, and became quite indignant when Harry asked her why. She claimed that he just didn't understand, and began to cry. The sobs grew stronger when she asked if Snape had seen more explicit memories involving other witches, and Harry reluctantly said yes. He then summoned the box of Kleenex from the other room, and gave it to her, only to have it thrown back in his face when he refused to provide specifics about which witches were doing what with him.
For her finale, Ginny called Harry an "ingrateful cad" (sic), slapped his face, reached down for the box of Kleenex, and ran out of the Room.
Harry scowled, but said nothing as Ginny stormed out of the door.
"I don't think that I'll ever understand witches," he lamented, once the door slammed shut.
Hermione sighed, and wrapped a protective arm around Harry's shoulder.
"I wouldn't say that, Harry," she offered. "There might be a big difference between understanding Ginny, and understanding women in general."
"Perhaps," he replied, as he leaned his head against Hermione's shoulder. "But Lavender and Cho…they didn't slap me but their attitudes weren't much different…here I was thinking that the ones to be upset were the ones that Snape saw starkers…the ones that I think about when I…but they seemed more upset that he didn't see me see them that way!"
"Perhaps they're disappointed that you don't think of them in romantic terms," Hermione offered.
"Or maybe there's a difference between fan-girls and friends," Harry replied.
Hermione nodded, and pulled Harry up to his feet. "Well, at least it's over, right?" she asked. "Let's head down to the kitchens, and we can commiserate over hot cocoa?"
Harry looked at Hermione and snorted.
"What makes you think that it's over, Hermione?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Harry said with a sly grin that he couldn't stop from appearing on his face. "As you told Ron…you are a girl, right?"
"Sure, but I just was so angry…with…him…"
The words trailed off as Harry squeezed her hand and began to lead her into the other room.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"So…it wasn't just because I needed to be last to leave?"
Harry stopped at the door's threshold, popped his head inside, and frowned.
"Harry? What's wrong?"
"Did you ask the Room to change things up a bit?"
"No, why?"
"The chairs have been replaced by a love seat, and the Kleenex is gone."
Hermione frowned, and popped her head inside the doorway.
"I didn't ask for the Room to change the furniture," she stated. "As for the Kleenex, well…Ginny took the box with her, didn't she?"
"Well yes…but so did Cho and Luna. Each time the Room gave me a replacement."
Hermione smiled a hopeful smile.
"So…maybe the Room doesn't think that I'll be upset with what you need to tell me?" she asked.
Harry thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"I like that better then the other explanation."
"What's that, Harry?"
"That an AK doesn't draw blood."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at Harry, and imagined a dozen different reasons why Harry might think what he needed to share would provoke her to such violence. They all seemed rather ridiculous, but she wasn't about to say so. But it was also clear that she'd have to do something to convince Harry of that fact.
Harry caught his breath when Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve.
"Not going to wait for the confession to hex me?" he asked.
Hermione snorted as she flipped the wand in her hand and offered it to him butt-end first.
"Oh ye of little faith," she said with a small smile. "Why don't you take it for safekeeping, and come sit down with me?"
"No…Hermione if I can't trust you then who can I trust?"
"Just take it Harry."
Harry sighed, nodded, and gripped the offered piece of vine wood and dragon heartstring.
He startled at the warmth that flowed into his hand wherever there was skin contact.
"What's wrong?" Hermione quickly asked.
"Erm, nothing," Harry lied, as he pocketed the wand.
Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then said, "Come on, then…let's have a seat."
Harry nodded, and hoped that Hermione couldn't read the smutty thought that had just come into his head.
"So maybe her wand being warm, like it liked me…maybe it's a sign that we won't need Kleenex?" he thought. "But it can't be everything that I could hope for, or else the Room would have sent me a box of condoms instead."
"Oh ye of little faith indeed, Chosen One," the Room of Requirement thought to itself. "No need for those muggle things when your lover has been dreaming of this night and been on the Contraceptive Potion since Valentine's Day!"
oo00OO00oo
Harry sat down on the love seat quietly, and fumbled for an explanation about what Snape saw that didn't make it seem like he had been perving on his best friend. Even though that is exactly what he'd been doing.
Hermione sat by his side and waited for Harry to say something…but then her own nerves got the best of her, and she blurted out just to start the conversation.
"So, Harry…are you certain that Snape can read our thoughts using a wandless, nonverbal spell?"
The question jolted the Boy-Who-Lived from his musings.
"Erm, yeah…I was sitting there, thinking about punching the git in the face, and next thing I know, Snape looked into my eyes, and said that I wouldn't be capable of laying a finger on his nose, even if I Engorgio'ed it first."
Hermione frowned.
"You mean he knew that you were thinking right then?"
Harry nodded. "I don't think he meant to be so candid, but apparently, if you're good enough, or your target's shields are horrid enough…not only can you sort through memories like they were in a file cabinet, but if you can look into their eyes, then you can see in real time what somebody is thinking."
"And he can do this just by staring into your eyes?" Hermione hissed.
"Yeah, that's what he claimed…and, well…he seemed to be able to back that claim up."
Hermione groaned. "That's really horrible," she replied. "There ought to be a law against that sort of invasion of privacy."
"I'm sure that there is," Harry said with a sigh. "Have to admit, though, it would be dead useful in a duel."
"You'd know what spell an opponent was going to cast before they even cast it?"
Harry nodded, and leaned his head against Hermione's shoulder, just as he had done in the other room. It was an innocent motion…something that he done lots of times before. But this time….this time the contact sent shivers through Hermione's body. Tingly shivers…the kind that she often got an instant before she gave herself an orgasm.
There was a simple explanation for this, of course. The possibility that their Professor of Potions could secretly read minds without need of wand or word had caused her to think back to all of the times that she'd caught herself daydreaming in his class. Well, not daydreaming, actually…more like she allowed her thoughts to wander, while she was performing repetitive menial tasks, like stirring, or cutting ingredients.
This past year, her wandering thoughts had almost always headed straight towards Harry, her cauldron partner.
Many times, those wandering thoughts grabbed Harry by the robes and snogged the daylights out of him. And sometimes….well, sometimes they decided to duck underneath his robes and bury themselves in his crotch.
And then there was just last week…when she caught herself wondering what it'd be like to be bent naked over Snape's desk, and taken by Harry from behind.
She was, you see, quite smitten by her best friend and Potions partner. Secretly head over heels in love with him, actually. And she was now deathly afraid that she'd been broadcasting her feelings for Harry in Snape's classroom, for him to pick up whenever he made eye contact with her.
And there had been many, many times, when she'd made eye contact with Severus Snape.
The head-to-toe shudder that this realization caused prompted Harry to twist his neck and look back at Hermione.
"You okay?"
"Yes," she replied. "Well, no, actually…just worrying and wondering if Snape has made any secret trips through my frontal lobes."
"I know what you mean," Harry replied. "No doubt he has a made a perverse habit out of mind snooping."
Hermione nodded. "And taking advantage of what he discovers, too."
Harry closed his eyes and sighed, having been reminded that Snape (and Draco too, most likely) would try to use Harry's thoughts and memories against her.
"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, seeing his concern expressed nonverbally.
"It's what you just said," he replied, with eyes still shut. "I'm sure that you're right…Snape is going to take advantage of what he saw tonight and use it against you."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Me?"
Harry let out a deep breath that seemed to deflate him. He opened eyes that were close to watering, turned and said, "Yes, Hermione…you."
"Oh," she replied quietly. "So you accidentally saw me starkers, or some such thing?"
Harry grimaced. "Yeah…not the starkers bit, but the some such thing."
"I see…so….what exactly did he see?"
Harry closed his eyes and whispered.
"Your white knickers."
"My what?"
A deep sigh escaped from Harry's lips as he opened his eyes and repeated, "Your knickers, Hermione."
"How did Snape see my…how and when did you see my knickers, Harry?" Hermione asked, a bit forcefully.
"Three weeks ago…in the library," Harry admitted. "I didn't mean to, honest…you were sitting at our table, and needed to stretch, and then you sat on your leg, but not before I….I saw your knickers flash underneath the table."
Hermione pursed her lips in thought.
"So which pair were they?" she finally asked.
Harry stared at her for a few moments, not knowing how to answer. So he instead, asked a question.
"Haven't ever done your laundry, or rummaged through your chest of drawers…what are my options?"
Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, and reveal a bit of her true feelings about the situation.
"Yes! He finally noticed! So maybe I don't need to cast a 'Yes-Please-Notice-Me!' charm on my pants!"
"Did they have a pattern to them?" she asked.
"Erm…no," Harry said softy. "Reckon that they were a bit too….thin for a pattern."
Hermione's eyebrows arched. "Thin, Harry? You mean…thin, like see-thru thin?"
Harry really didn't want to answer that question, so he reissued an apology instead.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione…I couldn't help but notice…and I couldn't stop Snape…tried more than any others to keep it from him but it was too easy to pull it from my short-term memory."
"That's okay, Harry," Hermione replied, patting his thigh. "I forgive you." She then tried to make light of the situation.
"Guess that it was lucky that I was wearing knickers that day."
Harry choked on some spittle.
"Wha…you mean that some days you…do you really go without sometimes?"
Hermione came as close to giggling as she dared.
"Not as far as you know….right?"
"Erm, right," Harry quickly replied.
A comfortable silence fell…far more comfortable a silence then Harry thought he had a right to expect. The absence of dialogue allowed Harry to focus on other things…like the fact that Hermione had left her hand on his thigh, and that the fingers on that hand were gently rubbing against his trouser fabric.
"So they were one of my sheer pair, huh Harry?"
"Erm yeah…I guess."
"So…you…and Snape…you probably got a glimpse at what was on the other side, then?"
"Erm…sorry, but…yes."
"I see," Hermione replied calmly. "So, Harry?"
"Yes?"
"You said that it was a short-term memory that he stole?"
"Yeah, those have always been the hardest for me to protect."
"But you said that happened weeks ago, Harry…it should have been converted into a long-term memory by now."
"Erm, yeah, about that," Harry said glumly. "It wasn't the kind of thing you see once and don't think about again."
Hermione smiled. "No I imagine not, if that was your first time that you saw up a skirt."
Harry frowned, not wanting to say that he'd seen far more then that with some of the other witches.
"So how many, Harry?"
"How many what?" Harry asked, wondering if she was asking about memories, or witches.
"How many times have you thought about my sheer white knickers?"
Harry muttered something that Hermione couldn't hear.
"What was that, Harry?"
"Well, you see…erm…too many to count, I guess."
The bushy-haired witch snorted, in an effort to keep from shouting out a self-congratulatory "Yes!"
"I'm so sorry, Hermione."
The brown-haired witch smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"No worries…like I said, at least I was wearing knickers, right?"
"Yeah, about that…"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione chuckled. "Don't tell me you have also caught a glimpse of me without my knickers on."
"No, no," he said defensively. "It's just that…Oh, Merlin this is so embarrassing."
Hermione smiled. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, it's not that…well maybe it is, but…I have to Hermione. Like you said…if Snape saw it in my mind then he's going to take advantage of it, and I'd rather be the one to tell you…"
"Tell me what, Harry? Have you seen me going Regimental?"
"No," Harry said strongly. He then reluctantly whispered, "But I've imagined it."
"What was that last bit, Harry?"
"I said that I've imagined you without your knickers on," Harry repeated, perhaps a bit too forcibly.
"Oh," Hermione replied, using a tone of voice that conveyed more arousal then surprise. She then purred the word "So," and added, "You've imagined what I look like under my clothing. Was this out of some kind of idle curiosity, Harry? As an intellectual exercise?"
Harry snorted. He had gotten lots of "exercise" whilst perving on Hermione's knicker flash and its extrapolations, but would never admit it unless Hermione asked him directly.
Which of course she promptly did.
"Or were these closer to stimulating sexual fantasies?"
Harry hissed out a deep breath.
"Closer to the second," he admitted.
If Harry's eyes hadn't been firmly shut from embarrassment, he might have seen Hermione's cheeks flush a very deep red at this response.
"So you…you think of me that way, sometimes, Harry?" she whispered. "You use the memory of seeing my knickers to…you know?"
Hermione eyes bulged when Harry responded with a head nod, and she vocalized a sound that was in between a laugh and a whimper. Harry looked like he'd rather be anyplace else in the world, and made to scoot as far away from her as he could, but she would have none of that and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for you!" she said.
"What…I'm the one that should be apologizing, Hermione!"
The young witch, who was still locked in an embrace, shook her head, then turned and kissed the side of Harry's head.
"Harry…you were the one who was violated by Snape's actions, not me."
"But…"
"But you had every reason to expect that your private thoughts and memories are just that…private," Hermione added.
"But…it wasn't right for me to perv on…"
Hermione caught her breath as she waited in vain for Harry to finish his sentence. But he didn't, so she had to force the issue. She pulled back, and pushed Harry's chin up so that she could catch his eye.
"Harry, I'm not trying to fish for compliments, but is there a reason why it wouldn't be right for you to fantasize about…or to perv on my knickers?"
"It isn't respectful," Harry said glumly.
"What if I didn't mind?" Hermione asked.
"What?"
"You heard me," Hermione whispered. "How could I be upset about you thinking about me in that way…if Snape would be able to pull the same kinds of fantasies and the same kind of use of those fantasies from my head?"
Harry broke eye contact for a few moments, as he processed that statement. But once he got it, or at least thought he'd gotten the gist of Hermione's statement, he looked back up with eyes full of wonder.
"You mean that…you…you do, too?"
Hermione gave Harry a brilliant smile as she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.
"Yes, Harry…I fancy you too."
The-Boy-Who-Lived stared at Hermione, stunned speechless by the most perfect spell that she could have cast over him. His head stayed motionless as Hermione gently pulled his eyeglasses away from his face, and then kissed the red marks on the bridge of his nose where those glasses sat. No movement came when Hermione's lips moved down to the tip of his nose, or when she planted a chaste kiss on his closed lips.
Concerned by Harry's lack of reaction, she pulled back and stared into his eyes.
"Harry…are you okay?" she asked. "Is this….is this okay?"
The eyes that stared back at her began to water.
"This…this is beyond brilliant," Harry whispered. "I'm just…I'm just afraid…"
Hermione reached up and cradled Harry's face with her hands.
"Afraid of what, Harry?"
"Afraid of….afraid that he'll see this…that he'll take this from me…from us…"
Hermione smiled.
"Oh, Harry," she said with a happy sigh. When her thumb reflexively rubbed away a tear from his cheek, she decided that it was time for them to forget Snape for a while.
"Can I make a suggestion, Harry?" she asked.
Harry nodded, although with Hermione's hands where they were it could also have been characterized as a nuzzle.
"Please don't take this literally," she asked, "but….Fuck Snape!"
Harry snorted into her hands.
"What?"
"You heard me, Harry…forget about him for a few minutes…and trust that we'll come up with a way to make sure that he doesn't do anything like this ever again."
Harry looked at Hermione with wonder in his eyes. Then, he reached up and pulled her hands away from his face, and moved those hands to spots behind his neck. When Hermione smiled, and began to scrape her fingernails against the base of his skull, Harry moaned.
Then he moaned a second time.
And then he jumped Hermione's bones.
The Room of Requirement, anticipating this reaction, lengthened out the love seat so that Hermione's head didn't hit the armrest as she welcomed Harry into a horizontal snog.
oo00OO00oo
A few minutes later, when Hermione tried to encourage Harry's hands to roam, he panicked, and broke their embrace.
"Harry…what's wrong?" she asked breathlessly, reaching up so that she could pull him back down.
"It's Snape, damn it," Harry hissed. "I know what you said, but…if only this had been more like one of my wan….my fantasies!"
Hermione smiled. "Were you going to say 'wanking fantasies,' Harry?"
Harry closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded his head.
"It's okay, Harry," she replied. "You can say those things in front of your…."
Harry's eyes went wide. "You'd…really…you were going to say girlfriend?"
Hermione nodded. "If that's okay with you, Harry."
"Let me think about that for a moment," he replied with an impish grin. "Okay, I'm done thinking."
"And?"
"And, well maybe I should do this officially?"
Hermione smiled. "If you'd like to."
"Would you be my girlfriend, then…Hermione?"
"I'd love to," she replied instantly, pulling him back down for another embrace.
Hermione's answer provided enough happy distraction for another five minutes of intense snogging before Harry thought of his thoughts being stolen again.
"Fucking Snape!" Hermione hissed, as Harry pulled back from her a second time. "I'm not going to let him ruin this for us!"
Harry sighed, and shook his head. "Like I said…if only this had been one of my wanking fantasies…."
A clever idea popped into Hermione's head.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"What kind of wanking fantasies do you have?"
Harry's mind raced at the question. The last thing he wanted to do was push his new girlfriend away with a full disclosure of his 'impure thoughts'."
"Why do you ask?" he replied.
"You mean beyond my natural curiosity?"
Harry snorted, and nodded his head.
"Well…my first thought about Snape was that we could just call Dobby and ask for a couple of more vials to store the memories of what we've done, and what I want to do to you tonight."
Stalling for time while he could imagine what she meant by 'what I want to do to you tonight,' Harry asked an open-ended, "But?"
"But...there's no way I'm going to risk losing these memories," Hermione replied. "What would happen if they got lost, or stolen, or the vials destroyed?"
"Good point….so, there was a second thought, then?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded. "Do you think that Snape could tell the difference between actual memories and your pervy fantasies?"
Harry thought quietly for a moment. "I'm not certain, although there didn't seem to be much difference between the two when he forced me to relive them."
"So when you perv on me, you don't imagine me with huge baps?"
"Of course not," Harry protested. "Why would I want to do that?"
Hermione bit her lower lip. "Well, you have to admit, Harry, they aren't exactly the biggest pair in the Tower…"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fishing for complements, Hermione? You've got perfect-sized bits, as far as I'm concerned, and they look no different in my dirty dreams then they do right now."
Hermione smiled, not at all upset over the fact that Harry was staring at her jumper-covered breasts instead of her eyes at that moment.
"Thank you, Harry," she said brightly.
"So where are you going with this, Hermione?" he asked.
"Into your dreams, if I have anything to say about it," she replied.
"How is that?"
"I said into your dreams," Hermione replied. "If Snape can't tell the difference between memory and fantasy, then we could reenact one of your fantasies tonight, turning it into reality, and he'd just think that he was seeing the same thing over again!"
"That's brilliant!" Harry replied. "except…."
"Except what, Harry?"
"Couple of things," he replied sadly. "First is that all of the fantasies that you star in take place in the library."
Hermione's eyes dilated, and a soft moan escaped from her lips. "Sounds good to me, Harry," she cooed, fidgeting in her seat. "Why is that a problem?"
"Because the library is closed right now?" he asked.
Hermione rolled her dilated eyes.
"Harry…where are we right now?," she asked, ordering him to close his eyes. When she told Harry to open them back up, he found himself within the Room of Requirement's version of the Hogwarts library.
"Was that the only issue, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Erm, no."
"What else is wrong, then?"
"Erm… it's just that….well, it's just that they're wanking fantasies you see, so…."
"So they aren't appropriate for kiddes to view at Saturday matinees?"
"You can say that again," Harry admitted.
"I see," Hermione replied. She thought for a moment, and then reached for her rucksack.
"Here, Harry," she said, offering him a quill and some parchment. "Why don't you write down the particulars of these fantasies, and we can see if any of them sound worthy of a go?"
"You want me to describe them for you?"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Think of this as a play, Harry. You're the lead actor, I'm the lead actress…leave out for now the pervy fantasies that involve more than one actress…we'll look those over another day."
"What?"
Hermione laughed. "So this will be a play, and you need to write out our dialogue, and our actions…you've already given us the setting."
Harry looked at his new girlfriend like she was crazy…which she was, actually, if "crazed with lust" counts.
"I don't know…."
"Too embarrassed, Harry? You shouldn't be, you know, but…if it would help any…"
Hermione's sentence fell off as she retrieved another quill and more parchment.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"Writing down the stage instructions for my wanking fantasies," she explained. "It'll create equal opportunity for potential embarrassment."
"Or make me cream my jeans," Harry muttered.
Hermione snorted, reached over, and squeezed high up on Harry's thigh.
"You make that sound like it's a bad thing, Harry," she purred. "Now get to work."
"Yes, Ma'am!" Harry growled lustfully.
oo00OO00oo
Fifteen minutes later found Harry with only thirteen scenes on his list. Whist trying to remember the other two, he looked over at Hermione, and didn't know whether to be frightened or aroused by the fact that she had already filled out nine feet of parchment.
"All done?" she asked, feeling Harry's eyes on her. "Let's see what you've got, then."
"You make it sound like I'm revising my Transfiguration homework," he said with a smile, as he handed her his handiwork.
Hermione chuckled. "That's actually number five on my list."
The chuckling stopped once she began to read what Harry had written.
"Oh, my," she said softy. When she was half-way down the list, she looked up to ask Harry for a clarification, only to frown when she discovered his eyes shut again.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"Erm…don't know if you realized it, but…you were playing with your nipple while you were reading."
"I was?" Hermione asked. She looked down at her chest and shrugged "Well, you can't blame me, can you Harry? If this were an erotic fiction class, this assignment would more than Exceed my Expectations!"
"Erm, right, so…well…there is some nipple tweaking in what I wrote, but it takes place back at our table." Giving a wave to the front of the Room's "Library," he added, "And not here."
"Well that's easily fixed," Hermione replied. "So tell me Harry…are any of these your….favorites?"
Harry coughed. "Erm, well, they all….they all get the job done."
"I see," Hermione replied, with a mischievous grin on her face. "Are there any that you'd like to try tonight?"
Harry's cheeks flushed. "You mean you'd be willing to…to do any of those?"
Hermione laughed. "Well, we might want to work up to your Number Thirteen, but…"
"Eep!" Harry chirped, before he wheezed out, "Number thirteen?"
"Yes, Harry…the one where you bend me over the table and I ask you to….let's see, what were the exact words?" She looked down on the parchment and smiled. "Yes, that's right. You flip up my robes and I yell, 'Shove that bodacious wand of yours up my bum!'"
Harry winced in response. "Erm, sorry about that."
"No need to apologize, boyfriend," Hermione said with a smile. "I'm certain that 'bodacious' is a highly appropriate choice of adjectives."
"Hermione…" Harry whined.
His new girlfriend giggled…and this time it was a no-holds barred, Parvati-worthy giggle.
"Okay, then we'll hold off on that route for now…let's see…one through four just has me sitting there chewing "sexily" on my quill while I flash my fanny in different ways and you wank…I'd rather there be a little more physical contact….how about number six, Harry?"
The raven-haired wizard arched an eyebrow, and asked to see what he'd written down.
6. Starts out the same as 3…You are sitting down with legs spread and no knickers. I start to wank in the stacks at the sight of your fanny. I think you might have seen me, but you pretend that you didn't and decide to give me more of a show. You reach down and begin to play with yourself. I wank harder, and quickly come. When I open my eyes, you are staring at me and smile. The hand that is diddling your fanny waves at me from under the table, and then motions me to come towards you. I look around, and not seeing anyone, walk towards you with my robes open and dick still out and hard. When I get to the table the hand points to the floor, and I know that you want me on my hands and knees underneath the table. You reach out and let me lick your fingers, and then I bury my face between your legs.
After reading the "script" Harry looked back up at Hermione.
"You're putting me on, right?" he asked.
"Not at all…will that one work, or….well, number seven is similar, except I show you my baps as well. Although….that might be a problem…"
"What might be a problem?" Harry quickly asked, suddenly deciding that fixing problems was a priority.
"The problem, Harry, is the potential difference between fantasy and reality," Hermione explained. "You already said that you didn't inflate my breast size, and…I assume that you didn't mentally adjust the size of your bits?"
Harry quickly shook his head.
"Great, so that just leaves the nipples….I'm going to also assume that you haven't seen my bared breasts in real life?"
"No," Harry admitted. "Is…is that a problem?"
"Could be…how big are my nipples in your fantasies, Harry?"
"Erm, well…don't really have a ruler around my dreams…"
"Tell me when, then," Hermione replied. She then made a small circle with the thumb and forefinger on her right hand and pressed it against her jumper-covered breast.
"Are they this big around, Harry?"
"Erm…bigger," Harry admitted.
Hermione smiled and said, "Say when, then."
As she slowly increased the size of the circle formed by her fingers, Harry said, "I can't believe that this is….stop. That's good."
Hermione looked down and smiled. "Not a bad guess, Harry…and close enough to match. Now, how about color?"
"Color?"
"Yes, Harry…what color are my nipples…pink, or rose-colored, or brown?"
"Erm…can't quite say."
"Are they like Ginny's, then?"
Harry frowned. "How would I know, I've never seen….well okay, I guess I have seen them but that's been purged from my mind, thank Merlin."
Hermione smiled, and nodded. "Well, then…in your fantasies, are they closer to Katie's in color, or Alicia's?"
"Hmmm…I'd say Katie's….hey!"
"What, Harry?" Hermione replied with an impish grin.
"How did you know that I would know the color of the Chasers' nipples?"
"So it's Angelina too, then?" she asked. Hermione giggled, and then explained, "It was an educated guess. You can decide whether or not to share how you know about such things with me at another time."
Harry sighed in relief. "So we're good, then?"
"Sadly, no," Hermione replied. "Mine are much closer in color to Alicia's…so no bared titties tonight."
Harry snorted. "Oh, well…guess we'll muddle through somehow, right?"
"That's the spirit, Harry!" Hermione giggled. "Guess that there's one final thing then."
"What's that?"
"Well, two things actually," she replied, as she reached up under her robes and pulled down a pair of red silk knickers. "That takes care of one," she stated. "Now I just need trimming instructions."
"What?"
"My fanny, Harry," she explained. "I'm going to assume that in your fantasies my curtains match the rug?"
"What's that?"
"My pubes are the same color as what's on my head?"
"Oh, well….yeah, that's right."
"So how much hair down there, Harry? Am I bald, furry, or somewhere in between?"
Harry looked down at the floor and blushed. "Erm…I guess I'd have to say somewhere in between."
"Great, then I've got something to work with," Hermione replied with a grin. "Any specific shapes, Harry?"
"What?"
"Fancy my pubes trimmed into the shape of a heart? Or maybe a snitch?"
"Hermione!" Harry chided.
"Yes?"
"To think that….well…when I think about Number Six, you are, sort of clean on the bottom, but hairier on top, but …I don't know!"
"No worries, Harry," Hermione replied, as she sat back on one of the library tables. "Just gives me a chance to show you a new spell."
"Erm…what kind of spell?"
Hermione smiled, pulled out her wand, and hiked up her robes.
"A depilatory charm," she replied brightly.
Harry stared down at Hermione's bared crotch and dropped to the floor in a faint.
"Oh my, I'm afraid that I've broken him," Hermione replied with a grin.
"Can I get a little help, here?" she called out.
The Room replied by placing a small first-aid kit next to Hermione.
"Thank you," she said in response.
"Let's see what we've got, then," she said, as she opened the kit. "Smelling salts, good…pepper-up potion…yes, that might come in handy."
A large grin broke out onto her face when she read some of the other labels.
"Stamina potions...lubrication salves...pain relief potions...and back up contraceptive potions? Guess the Room thinks we might get farther down Harry's list then I had hoped!"
Hermione's suspicions were gloriously played out once Harry was revived, and they demonstrated over the next several hours that the Room was truly capable of providing that which was truly Required.