Harry Potter and the Secret Nurse

Chapter Ten
Hermione’s Freaky Furry Fetish

After saying good night to some members of the Order who left to do their evening shifts, Hermione said she felt too tired to climb the stairs to bed. Harry pulled her down onto his lap in the wheelchair and called out for it to haul them away upstairs. Tonks called up to them to check for something on their bed when they got up there, and she laughed and kissed with Lupin. The chair was going so fast Hermione was in a fright and screamed at Harry to stop but they reached the third floor before she could protest too much.
Harry was feeling a little randy and made like he was hauling Hermione away like a pirate to have his way with her in his bedchamber.

Not really knowing how, or caring, he magicked the bedroom door open with a wave of his hand. The chair lurched forwmakimaking Hermione scregaingain and she held Harry’s head to kiss him.

“What are you thinking?” she giggled.

“I’m thinking... I’m thinking WHAT THE HECK IS THAT ON OUR BED?”

There was a huge wrapped present sitting on the bed with garish red wrapper and badly clashing green ribbons tying it off.

“Well whatever it is it’s in the way,” said Hermione as she climbed onto the bed to push it aside, “Woah! It’s heavy!”

“Open it!” said Harry.

Hermione wrestled with the paper to unwrap the mystery present had had the size and mass of a large VCR. She wasn’t too surprised (but very pleased) to find;

“The Connubium Charms book!” she exclaimed with a very suggestive tone.

“Strewth! Didn’t waste time copying it, did they?” said Harry.

Harry climbed onto the bed from his chair and Hermione found a card taped to the front of the book with Tonks' handwriting.

Hermione read it out loud, “Turn to page 772. Ooooh, sounds like she found something she really liked.”

Harry tossed all the wrapper paper onto the floor and Hermione flipped the pages with great expectations. Despite the fact the book was filled with graphic sexual images she was still shocked by what she found on page 772.

“It’s a sub chapter about the Delectatio Charm,” explained Hermione, “Apparently if you take a wand that is spelling the Delectatio Charm, and insert it into a man’s rectum, the charm ejaculates from his penis and continues to ejaculate for as long as you can keep the charm going. Hmmm, nice.”

“You want to stick your wand up my ass?” asked Harry.

“You want to ejaculate for an hour?” asked Hermione.

“AN HOUR?!?”

“It can go longer, but you might go mad,” said Hermione.

“Shit... still though, I mean, does it HAVE to be up my ass?” asked Harry.

“You weren’t complaining too much when I had my finger up there the other night,” said Hermione.

“You did? Oh yeah, you did,” said Harry as he remembered, “Maybe we should wade into the shallow end of the pool first. Let’s see if we can even do Delectatio before we start sticking our wands up in each other’s orifices.”

Hermione turned to Delectatio, entry level learning which was near the front of the book. Animated illustrations showed how to perform the spell. Magical illustrations had a hidden function that allowed a reader to pause, rewind, and play certain parts over and over. Most people didn’t kanytanything about it but Hermione was, of course, an expert. Another thing she was an expert at was phonetic spelling.

“According to the pronunciation guide there’s a bit of an ‘aah’ sound in Delectatio,” Hermione explained, “The first part has short e’s like delectable. There’s a symbol here that means it should be tried with an Italian accent. So it should be Delectahh-sheoo.”

“Delectahh-shio?”

“Provincial Italian accent, Harry, not formal. Go a bit through the nose. Also drop the ‘i’, the last part is a long ‘e’ going into a long ‘o’,”said Hermione.

“Man, no wonder you were able to learn so many spells on your own from books,” said Harry, “I should memorize the phonetic spelling guide sometime.”

“Don’t forget there’s the modern and two ancient ones to memorize,” said Hermione, “Not to mention the accent symbol guide.”

“Maybe I’ll just ask you,” said Harry, “Provincial Italian accent you say? I wonder if the Italians invented the spell.”

“They probainveinvented most of what’s in this book,” said Hermione.

With their wands out they practiced the casting of the spell. Not too surprisingly the book instructed that they think of sexual thoughts while trying the spell. Harry felt the wand motion was quite natural.

“Little circles, counter clockwise,” Harry said to himself, “Where have I done that before?”

Harry was implying about the times he masturbated Hermione and she nudged him with her elbow, telling him to get serious. There was a tingling sensation coming down Harry’s arm as he could feel the spell coming alive. His thoughts of what he intended to do to Hermione was rousing his wand, and he exclaimed;

“Delectatio!”

Like a sparkler on a birthday cake, the tip of Harry wand came alive. The sparks had a warm colour and appeared strangely wet. They hit the bed, splattered around the sheets and slowly vanished. Harry put his fingers into the sparks and it felt like his hand was inside Hermione’s mouth being licked all over, except the sensation actually went inside his flesh and not just on the surface of his skin. Delicately Hermione put her own fingers to the sparks as though she were teasing a flame.

“The sparks go THROUGH you,” she noticed.

Daringly Harry put the wand to Hermione’s breast and she shuddered and pulled away. He chest was heaving as she was unprepared for the sensation.

“That didn’t hurt, did it?” asked Harry, startled by Hermione’s reaction.

“No! No, it’s just, you're a little powerful with that spell, Harry,” said Hermione.

“The power of the spell is determined by your thoughts and intentions,” said Harry, “I’m kinda horny right now.”

Hermione looked into Harry’s eyes and started tearing off his clothes. She wasn’t turning feral but Harry could see just a hint of fang. Just a little concentration appeared on her face as she tried the spell for the first time. A shower of sparks came from the tip and Harry prepared himself as he lay shirtless on his back. He was just a little afraid about what it would feel like to have those sparks going through his whole body. Hermione lowered the wand to him like a mad tormentor looking to torture a poor hapless victim.
The globule sparks spattered onto his skin like hot wax, feeling only warm, but as they went into him with the wand closer it was like being licked by thousand tongues engulfing him. Involuntarily he cried out loud. This was like being tortured by the opposite of Bellatrix’s Cruciatus Curse. An almost blinding sense of pleasure raped his body and mind while Hermione worked him over his torso, and she had not even touched his genitals yet. He begged her to stop and take off his trousers. Hermione was coy and denying at first, then she gave in and took off Harry’s pants andernderwear.
Working the spell on his cock made it feel like he was inside Hermione’s mouth again, it was like a blowjob that engulfed the flesh of his cock inside and out. It wasn’t too long before Harry begged her to stop.

“I just got started,” said Hermione, “I’m not listening to you.”

Hermione held Harry down and worked him all over. Harry thought he would pass out, just like the first time he ejaculated into Hermione’s mouth. The one thing he felt that was almost wrong was when Hermione worked the wand under his balls. Hermione kept the wand there and worked his cock with her free unt until he came. She noticed some of the sparks came out the tip of Harry’s cock. Screaming a little too loud, Hermione backed off a bit and let Harry settled down.

“How are you doing?” asked Hermione.

Harry caught his breath and said, “I’m going to get you for that.”

And he did. Harry held Hermione’s naked body down and worked her over with the Delectatio spell until she had turned utterly feral. Repeatedly she begged him to stop, and if he did she yelled at him no lis listen. She really got to like to having the wand pointed at the space between her anus and clitoris. Harry wrestled Hermione’s hips down and sought his revenge until they were both drenched in sweat. Climbing up to Hermione’s extremely cat-like head, he held her until she turned human again.

“Still think they teach this to seventh years at Hogwarts?” asked Harry.

“There’s a sound proof room in the third floor corridor,” said Hermione, “There’s a hidden entrance on the opposite end from where we ran into Fluffy. Only seventh years go in.”

“How do you know about it?” asked Harry.

“I’m a prefect,” said Hermione, “But I’ve never been in. No one under-aged goes, not even prefects. Hey, do you remember the time I took Slytherin robes from the laundry room?”

“Yes, when Ron and I disguised ourselves as Crabbe and Goyle and snuck into Slytherin Tower.”

“I just remembered I saw several dozen sets of bed sheets in there,” said Hermione, “With no house crest emblems on them.”

“No house crests?” asked Harry, “But with so many, where would they be used?”

“Bingo,” said Hermione, “A room with several dozen beds that we’ve never seen.”

“The Marauder’s Map!” exclaimed Harry, “I bet it could-“

Hermione shushed Harry with her hand to his lips.

“You wouldn’t want anyone poking around our business, would you?” asked Hermione.

“Who teaches it, though?” asked Harry.

“There is one class that Dumbledore still teaches,” said Hermione, “And it’s in seventh year.”

“I saw that in the school calendar,” said Harry, “But it has no name, it just says ‘Dumbledore’s Class’.”

“Of all the teachers in Hogwarts, him I have the easiest time imagining in a class like that,” said Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Harry, “A lot more than Snape.”

“Don’t go there.”

The next day, Harry started thinking it was getting close to the time when he would be seeing Ron and the Weasley family again. He was looking forward to seeing them of course, but at the same time he realized he would be saying good-bye to something. The privacy he had enjoyed with Hermione as a lover was coming to an end, and it was likely that they could not live like this again until next year.
While working on his “House of Potter” project on his computer, he began to think should he ask Hermione to come live with him in his new home? Should he ask her to marry him? Maybe it was still too early, he thought, to be considering such things. Harry wasn’t going to waste any time getting his home back, but committing to marriage should probably wait until they were at least through with whatever Wizarding College or University they attended. He remembered his own parents didn’t get married until they were at least five years out of Hogwarts.
While looking for the editing tool on AutoCAD, Harry accidentally hit the play button on his laptop and started playing a DVD that was left in the CD tray. He was caught a little off guard as a movie began to play on the screen. Since he didn’t own any DVD’s yet, he figured it must have belonged to Hermione. Slightly intrigued, he watched as the DVD played Andrew Lloyd Webber’s CATS on the screen. Harry knew very little about the play, and only heard it had been on London stage since his parents were at Hogwarts and only left shortly before he left for the wizarding world. He thought it was kind of a funny coincidence she would happen to likis pis play, since it starred people made up to look like cats, and Hermione was a near cat-person herself.

“You shouldn’t be hunched over your computer like that,” said Hermione as she came back from her latest lesson from McGonagall.

“Maybe it like putting my back out of alignment,” said Harry and he stretched in his wheelchair, “Because it feels so good when you put it right again.”

Hermione tried out a mass reduction charm on Harry, which allowed her to pick him up out of his chair and carry him easily to the bed. Harry joked he felt like a blushing bride being carried across the threshold. Unceremoniously Hermione dumped Harry onto the bed and ordered him to undress. Acting coy like he was being molested Harry resisted and Hermione took charge. She would take no protest from Harry and had him naked underneath her in a minute. A little fang from her lip gave away to Harry this kind of “Take charge” role-playing really turned Hermione on.
The shiatsu massage charm “Curatio Attrecto” felt wonderful going all up and down Harry’s body. The tingling sensation coming from Hermione’s fingers was almost as erotic as the Delectatio charm.

“You smell nice, just have a bath?” asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head yes. Hermione started to lick Harry’s skin like she was tasting him, then she used the charm to tickle his bum. Having the Curatio Attrecto charm tickle his ass cheeks caused them to quiver under her touch. The fingers fondled his groin and ran up and down the space between his anus and balls. Then, without warning, Hermione finger fucked Harry’s asshole with the charm. All the way up past the knuckle her finger wiggled up his ass, spreading a lovely tingling sensation all around it. Harry moaned and shuddered his breath out loud underneath Hermione.

“You like that?” asked Hermione.

Haonlyonly shook his head yes.

Hermione took her wand and called out, “Delectatio!”

“Hermione! Wait! I... OH GOD THAT FEELS SO FUCKIN GOOD!”

Those were the last intelligible words that came from Harry mouth as Hermione fucked his ass with the spell. She turned Harry over and worked the wand up his ass and sucked his dick. Sparks of Delectatio sprayed from his cock and came all over Hermione’s face. She didn’t pull away as it felt so good to have the spell splatter all over her. When she stopped Harry couldn’t speak for more than a whole minute.

He caught his breath and asked, “How long was that?”

Hermione looked at her watch and said, “About five minutes.”

“FIVE MINUTES?” said Harry, “I came for five solid minutes? I thought I was going bloody bonker

“Felt good, didn’t it?” asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head weakly and asked, “Your turn?”

“We’ve got supper with the Order soon, maybe we should rest up a bit,” said Hermione.

Harry mind was made up. He was going to have to think of something special to do for Hermione, but he just couldn’t figure out what. For him, it was time to do some snooping around. While Hermione spent some time after supper in the library, which always served as an excellent distraction when Hermione was involved, Harry searched his laptop looking through Hermione’s files.
He wasn’t really sure what he was looking for at first. It wasn’t about prying secrets from Hermione, he just wanted some idea of something that meant a lot to her that he could possibly give. Then he remembered he found a website that sold books online. Books were always a good way to make Hermione happy. Harry could not remember the name of the website so he went into his history directory in Internet Explorer to find it.
The directory showed an awful lot more than he remembered ever surfing. There were dozens of URL’s he had no memory of at all, then he figured Hermione must have been to these places. Clicking on them one by one, Harry was brought into a strange and twisted world of sexual fantasies. Hermione was a furry, someone who liked watching erotic images of people who looked like animals have sex with each other. There was hundreds and hundreds of Japanese cartoons (known as anime) done in twisted hentai style.
Then Harry came across the clincher, a membership site you had to pay to get into, and Hermione was already a member. The sight remembered the computer I.D. of Harry’s laptop. It featured gay men painted up to look like various cat creatures and engaging in hardcore sex. Harry could hardly look at the images at all, but he caught onto something. It was not a coincidence that Hermione happened to like the play CATS. Whenever she really got turned on she partly transformed into a cat person, it just made sense that she would be sexually attracted tow men men who looked like cats as well.
Harry started to form a plan, before the Weasleys came to stay he was going to give Hermione a very special treat that would make her happy. He just needed to do a little shopping. That night was spent a little later than they should have playing with the Delectatio charm.

Early the next day, Hermione saw Harry dressing himself to go out.

“Why don’t you use the computer all day today?” suggested Harry, “You can get caught up in your next article.”

“You want to go out on your own? What if you get stuck somewhere?” asked Hermione.

“It’s okay, I’m going to Diagon Alley,” said Harry, “The chair can magic me out if I get stuck anywhere.”

Hermione kissed him and said, “You be careful.”

Harry looked at Hermione’s naked bottom as she headed for the shower and he figured she would spend the day masturbating to pornography on the laptop. If he had his way, she would not have to fantasize much longer.
This was the very first time Harry had been on his own through London. He didn’t feel like pushing himself halfway across the city to Diagon Alley, so he ordered the chair to morph itself into an electric scooter. The chair wouldn’t move until Harry put on a helmet that appeared on the handle. It was almost as fast as a Vespa, and fun enough to be declared illegal. The scooter’s turn signals guided Harry when to turn left or right as the chair, now a scooter, knew its way through London expertly. Driving through London traffic almost as thrilling as a Quiddich match.
The scooter pulled to a stop in an alley unfamiliar to Harry, then, seamlessly it transformed itself back into a wheelchair underneath him. Taking an educated guess Harry took his wand and gave three taps on the only part of a bare brick wall that had no garbage cans in front of it. His instincts were correct. The brick realigned themselves magically to make an opening to Diagon Alley.
Harry could tell right away he was close to the Leaky Cauldron. First stop, Gringott’s Bank.
On the way he passed Olivander’s and waved to him while he was cleaning his store window. Olivander waved back and winked like he knew Harry was up to something naughty. That was just a little disturbing but Harry let it go quickly. He didn’t take any guff from the bank Goblins in making a withdrawal and was holding up his key before the teller could rattle off his usual intimidating greeting.

“Let’s roll, shortyve gve got shopping to do,” said Harry.

Harry figured, correctly, having access to two separate and significant fortunes in this bank bought him a little levity from the goblins. Like a dare he wondered if he could get a rise out of the Goblin driving the vault car by yelling “Weeee” a few times on the way down to vault 687. After taking out some galleons, Harry surveyed his pile. He had been quite economic with the spending of his money the past fivars.ars. In that time he figured he must have spent, on personal use, far less than a thousand galleons.
Still, from this pile Harry had trouble imagining this amount of money could add up to the fortune he was supposed to inherit. He decided it was time to inspect the vault and noticed scrolls behind the galleon pile.

“What are these?” Harry asked as he held one up.

“Property bonds and Connexio scrolls,” said the troll without emotion.

“What do they mean?” asked Harry.

The troll raised an eyebrow and said, “It means you are an extremely wealthy Wizard, Mr. Potter.”

Of course, thought Harry, they couldn’t put all the valuables in galleons. The pile would be immense and spill out the door every time they opened the vault. This pile was just spending money for Harry to make his way around until he got his own income. The real inheritance lay in bonds like the stocks and bonds that muggles kept in their world. Whatever it was, they must have been worth several times the pile of galleons kept in the vault. Harry figured he would just leave them alone until after he graduated.

“I might have to come back later,” said Harry, “How late is the bank open today?”

“For a patron such as yourself, Mr. Potter, Gringotts is always open.”

The first stop after the bank was Madame Malkins Fine Robes and Costumes. It wasn’t a crowded store at the time. It had many kinds of formal wear and custom costumes on display. Magical mannequins posed for Harry wearing all kinds of expensive oddities. An elegant dark skinned woman dressed in fine black robes with a stylish blue collar helped Harry as soon as his chair wheeled up to the counter. Harry took a printout he made from a video capture from Hermione’s DVD and handed it to the lady.

“I need a Halloween costume made to look something like this,” said Harry.

“Munkustrap, from CATS,” said the lady, “It’s been a while since we’ve done one of these. I really loved that play.”

“I’m going to need the wig and make up and all that stuff there.”

“Leg and arm warmers,” said the lady, “That’s no trouble, we can do all of that. Pretty smart of you to come now. The school rush starts in a week. Madame Malkins should be able to help you personally.”

Madame Malkins was a little mature woman dressed for work. She had on dark overalls with magical tape measure all over her. There was a thick wrap around her forearms that held dozens of pins and loose string. She greeted Harry like an oldend.end.

“Hi! I was hoping you’d come to visit someday,” said Madame Malkins, “Mrs. Weasley has been telling me all about you when she came by to pick up your formal robes last year. Wait, or was that two years ago?”

Harry shook Madame Malkins hands and said, “She picked up some robes for me for the Tri Wizarding Tournament’s Yule ball and again last year when I grew out of them.”

“Well it’s about time you came to see me for yourself,” said Madame Malkins as she slappedry ory on the shoulder, “What can I help you with?”

The saleslady that helped Harry earlier handed Madame Malkins Harry’s photo and said he wanted to look like it.

“This is ADORABLE,” said Madame Malkins.

Harry tried to lead Madame Malkins away to a private corner and said, “Yeah, but, I need a few modifications.”

Harry explained he wanted something that resembled a CATS costume but had to be original.

“Uhm.. it’s got to look, you know, CUTE,” Harry said.

Madame Malkins laughed and said, “Playing it up for the ladies, huh? It’s brilliant.”

She took Harry’s glasses off and looked carefully at his face.

“You know, Harry, your green eyes can really pull this off,” said Madame Malkins, “You’re going to be glad you came to me first, Harry. You found the right place.”

Madame Malkins led Harry to the back room that had costuming supplies. Politely she asked about Harry’s chair and he explained it was temporary, he expected to be dancing on his feet by Halloween.

“Dancing, eh?” asked Madame Malkins, “Better use the magical smear proof make up.”

After awkwardly making their way past a narrow doorway covered in heavy fabric, Harry could see very tall shelves with all sorts of costume accessories and wigs stacked up so high the room was obviously magically enlarged.

“Hey! You’re way ahead of me,” said Harry as he pointed to the wigs on the upper shelves, “Those look just like the ones from CATS.”

“Oh those? Those are just models,” said Malkins as she put on her glasses and looked up, “Those are just for display to give people ideas. Trust me Harry, when we get you fitted, you’ll swear the wig is your own hair and a part of your own head. The rest of the costume will feel so natural you’ll think you’re walking around naked.”

Madame Malkins was a woman true to her word. She measured Harry up with magical means very similar to the measurements Olivander’s used when Harry was fitted for a wand. Some of the instruments must have been the same. Gently Madame Malkins levitated Harry from his chair with great skill and measured his legs. While going over the measurement numbers Malkins commented, “You have a perfect build for this sort of costume, Harry. If you want to do a replica of Munkustrap you can walk onstage with this and people could swear you were part of the cast.”

“I want to stick with the original idea,” said Harry, “You know, CUTE?”

“You’ll be beating the girls off with your wand, Harry.”

She positioned Harry in front of a mirror to work out the make up. She took off his glasses and started putting white base make up on.

“I’ve never done this before,” said Harry.

“Don’t worry,” said Madame Malkins as she pulled out her wand.

She cast a spell on Harry’s face that caused the base makeup to create a pattern. Instantly he was transformed into a colourful CATS-like make up job.

“How’s that?”

Harry leaned in close to the mirror and said, “We need to bring up the eyes a little.”

Another spell cast.

“I like the orange,” said Harry, “How about a few more stripes on the cheeks?”

Madame Malkins mixed some black in to create dark stripes.

“That’s perfect!” said Harry.

Madame Malkins made an incantation, waved her wand again and the makeup vanished.

“How do I recreate it?” asked Harry.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Malkins, “You’ll see when we’re finished.”

Next came the wig. Malkins stretched a net over Harry’s head and fitted it off to cover his hair totally. To Harry it felt extremely tight and uncomfortable.

“It’s only like that when you first put it on,” said Malkins, “Watch this.”

She cast a spell and Harry’s hair vanished underneath the net, making him look bald.

Harry laughed and said, “That’s pretty neat. It feels totally natural. What about the hair?”

Another wave and hair grew in. In the mirror, Harry could see his own face with the make up he had on before, even thought he knew it was no longer on. It must have been a magical reference to help. Harry could even see in the reflection he was already wearing dance tights, and Madame Malkins was changing the image over and over making her own plans as they went. By the time they had worked out how the wig would look she had a finished model in the mirror.

“Want to give it a try?” Malkins asked almost coyly.

Harry said yes. Again Malkins, with great skill, levitated Harry towards an array of mirrors and he undressed down to his underwear. Malkins stood with her eyes closed running through all the measurements and numbers in her head, then with great concentration she raised her wand.

“Vestitus!”

A whir of fabric rushed through the air and wrapped around Harry. The dance tights fit Harry perfectly. When he moved his arms the fabric was so smooth he couldn’t feel it on him at all. The only noticeable clothing he could feel was the loosely fitting black leather collar around his neck (Harry knew Hermione was going to love THAT). In the mirror he could see he had the make up, wig, tights, fuzzy arm and leg warmers all finished.

“She’ll love it!” Harry shouted out loud, “I mean, it’s perfect. You made a tail too! But, why is it tied off to a belt around my waist?”

“That’s in case someone steps on it your tights wont tear off,” said Madame Malkins.

“You HAVE made this before, haven’t you?” asked Harry, “I wish I had experience with painting make up. I’ll never be able to do my face this good on my own.”

“Now that, is something I can help you with,” said Madame Malkins.

She raised Harry’s right arm and clamped on something that looked like a thin silver bracelet over his arm warmer.

“What’s this?” asked Harry.

“A masquerade talisman,” said Malkins, “It’s a little expensive but hear me out, watch this.”

tapptapped the talisman three times, and the costume, wig, and make up all disappeared.

“Is it.. invisible?” asked Harry.

“Nope, just stored, inside the talisman,” said Madame Malkins, “Tap it again. Three times.”

Harry raised his right arm and tapped the bracelet three times. The costume appeared again over him in all its glory.

“How many times can I use this?” said Harry.

“As many times as you want,” said Madame Malkins, “You have a lot of partying planned, don’t you? I remember the sixth year was a little wild for me at Hogwarts. It’s a bit of a lull between the hard work of the fifth and seventh year. Remember, like regular fabric this costume may wear out over time. A couple of years, maybe.”

“How much is this?” asked Harry as he looked at the talisman with fascination.

Malkins said reluctantly, “40 galleons, on top of-”

“Sold,” said Harry without hesitation.

Harry marvelled the bracelet that he wore on his right wrist. It was a simple silver and delicate design without coming across as too feminine.

Once dressed again, Harry asked, “What happens if I’m wearing my regular clothes while I tap this?”

“Give it a try,” said Malkins.

Harry tapped the bracelet three times again, and his regular clothes disappeared, replaced by the cat costume again.

“It stores whatever clothes you have on now in a spell in the bracelet,” said Malkins, “Tap it again, and yoangeange back.”

“You’re a genius!”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” said Malkins, “Not that I ever grow tired of it.”

“You know, this can save a lot of time getting dressed in the morning,” said Harry.

“If you don’t mind wearing the same clothes every day,” said Malkins, “One bracelet for one set of clothes. But I have wealthy customers who keep several bracelets on standby to quickly change into formal wear.”

Harry was thinking like Moody, this could come in handy as an instant disguise. He thought if he bought a couple of blank bracelets he could use one to quickly turn to a muggle if he need to, or maybe even steal a pair of Slytherin robes and use them to sneak about their tower.
With no thought at all to the cost Harry graciously paid for both the bracelet, and the costume at the till where the sales lady stood. Madame Malkins invited Harry to come back soon and he figured he would, plus bring Hermione with him next time. Out in Diagon Alley again, Harry found a quiet corner to have a word with his chair.

“I know you have a mind of your own as to what’s best for your rider,” said Harry, “But I need you to buck up with me for a moment, we’re heading for Knockturn Alle

The chair trembled under Harry as though in protest.

“Hey, we’re not going to find what I’m looking for in Diagon Alley,” said Harry, “I need you to be brave. This is all for Hermione, to make her happy. But in case this really goes south, I need you to bail me the hell out of there in a hurry. You think you can manage that?”

The chair rocketed into the air with the thrust of a Nimbus 2000. This was the first time since his flight on the Thestrals did Harry take to flight in the open air. With dizzying precision the chair landed without so much as a bump right next to a bookstore that led to Knockturn Alley.

“Chair, you ROCK,” said Harry, “Right then, let’s go.”

It was a good thing that the chair was capable of levitation, because Knockturn Alley was about as wheelchair accessible as a rocky canyon. There were narrow stairs constantly going up and down in all directions determined not to let the alley ever have just one even level. Each store always had to be a few steps up or down from the next one as though they didn’t trust one another. The chair floated up and down past each store as Harry was careful to keep an expression that he was not lost. He had a purpose, he knew where he was going, and anyone who wanted to make trouble for him better know he was very handy with a wand.
Robbers weren’t all Harry had an eye open for. This was the most likely place Harry would run into a Death Eater, and in turn run into a member of the Order or ministry in search of Death Eaters. It wasn’t easy to keep a low profile when you were famous Harry Potter in a magical wheelchair, but Harry tried his best. Soon he came upon what he was looking for, a store that had symbols he recognized from the Connubium Charms book was in front of him. It had the typical ancient rundown look that contrasted greatly from the neon lights and bright colours of muggle sex shops. Never the less, it did have several erotic illustrations and carved figures on display that showed with great obviousness what was for sale inside. The name pretty much said it all, “Mog Myg Myrtle’s Magical Marital Aids.”

“MOANING MYRTLE?” Harry said to himself out loud with disbelief, “Oh man, she’d have a shit fit if she knew about this place. Hey chair, doesn’t the owner know about the ghost in the girl’s bathroom at Hogwarts?”

The chair held its armrests outwards like a person shrugging, “Darned if I know.”

“Well, let’s see if we can go in,” Harry said reluctantly.

Harry suddenly wished he was taller, or at least heavier. He figured Dudley could buy all the booze and porn he wanted whether he was standing up or sitting down. The entrance was blacked off, as though to make sure people from the street couldn’t peek inside. A lot of muggle porn shops did the same thing so no minors could sneak a look from outside. This was not a good sign as Harry was under-aged and looked every bit of it. He took a deep breath and pushed forward.
An invisible force pushed back and almost chucked him to the middle of the street. Only the chair’s skill kept Harry from falling out of it and landing on his face on the stone. Harry shook his head, feeling as though he should have known. From the Tri Wizarding tournament he learned that magical age checking spells were pretty effective and almost impossible to beat, there was only one way around it.

“Alright chair, plan B,” said Harry, “This is going to be dodgy, so you remember that wicked flying move. If I slap the armrest or call out, it’s bail time.”

The chair shook to acknowledge Harry’s instructions. He was looking for people he had spent some time trying to forget. The first time he wound up in Knockturn Alley it was by a mistake through a misspoken phrase when using floo powder to get to Diagon Alley. Harry was looking for the shop of a Mr. Borgin, which Harry remembered wasn’t too far away from the entrance to Diagon Alley. It wasn’t the store so much he was looking for, but the shady characters hanging out in front of it.
There was one method that allowed under aged wizards or muggles to retrieve goods from age restricted places. When Harry was being possessed by Lord Voldemort, he borrowed muggle money from his cousin Dudley, and then hung out in front of liquor stores and paid grown up muggles to buy him hard booze, letting them keep a few pounds for themselves for their trouble. Harry was willing to bet this technique would work just as good in either the wizard or muggle world.
Huddled around a tray of what looked like withered fingers, Harry came upon them. Two wizards and a witch dressed in pitch black. One wizard, bald, wearing a black sweater and of intimidating build, one scrawny and scraggly haired wizard, and a bony skinned witch looking aged beyond her years with blackened eyes underneath her black crow-feathered hat. Four years ago she accosted Harry to find his way out of Knockturn Alley, no doubt she and her friends were plotting to mug Harry or even kidnap him for who knows what.
Before, when he was rescued from them by Hagrid, Harry would have given anything to get away from them. Now Harry was wheeling right up to them, and was hoping like heck Hagrid was nowhere in sight. The witch saw Harry and immediately brightened up at the sight of Harry approaching her. The other two hung back as she made her pitch.

“’Ello dearie,” she said with practiced sweet voice, “Not lost are ye’? Why not let dear ol-”

“Cut it out, I’m not twelve,” Harry interrupted, “You remember me, right? I came out of Borgin’s some time ago? You offered to help me then, too.”

The witched backed off a bit and said, “Ah yes, you’re a friend of Hagrid’s, aren’t you?”

At the mention of the name the other two wizards backed up a little, suddenly looking quite frightened.

“A very good friend of Hagrid’s,” said Harry as he lured them back forward again by pulling out a galleon, “I need to talk business.”

A scrawny wizard who stood furthest back acted unimpressed and said, “Look at’im, eh? All puffied up acting like ‘e owns the place. We’re no’ afraid o’ ‘im all because ‘e knows Hagrid.”

Harry looked them over and then pointed diry aty at the witch.

“I need to speak to you, alone,” said Harry as he beckoned her to follow him.

The witch cautiously caught up to Harry’s chair as it headed back towards the sex shop.

“Why do you need to speak to me, dearie?”

“Because you’re the only one who looks like you have enough brains to negotiate with,” said Harry, and he brushed his hair back to show his scar, “And you look like you can keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh my, you’re-“

“I’m NO ONE, got it?” asked Harry.

Harry brushed his hair over his scar. The witch smiled charmingly, showing her mouldy teeth. With his hand to his chest Harry pointed to the sex shop.

“I need something from there,” said Harry, “Think you can get it?”

The witch smiled like she got a Christmas present and asked, “What’s it worth to you, dearrie?”

Harry pulled out twenty galleons from his armrest.

“You buy it, whatever is left from this, you keep,” said Harry.

“What if it costs more’an that?” asked the witch.

“Then I don’t want it,” said Harry, “And I would expect my money back.”

“What makes you think I won’t rob you, dearrie?” asked the witch.

“You could, but it would be very dumb,” said Harry, “You could take off with twenty now, or make a whole lot more later when I come back for more. If you’re really good, I’ll send my friends this way.”

“What kind of friends you got?” interrupted the scrawny wizard as he stuck his head in unexpectedly.

“Friends with money,” said Harry, “And pay up front. Not a bunch of skiving thieves like Draco Malfoy.”

“HE OWES ME TEN SICKLES THAT SNEAKY LITTLE-“

“That’s YOUR problem,” said Harry as he waved him off.

The witch shoved the scrawny wizard away and said, “I think we have an understanding.”

“Good,” said Harry, “Because I’d hate to- FUCKIN’ELL!”

Ludo Bagman just walked out of the sex shop carrying a few things in paper bags. Harry had nowhere to go or turn to. There was a low archway right over his head that prevented him from even flying up. In a panic he tapped his bracelet three times and transformed himself into his cat costume in a blink of an eye. The witch only glanced at Ludo, pretending not to notice him as he clumsily clutched his goods while looking around. Ludo made eye contact with Harry and he looked at him for a second with a raised eyebrow, but he pulled away and skulked out of Knockturn Alley hoping no one would see him. The witch followed Ludo from the corner of her eye until he was out of sight, then she looked right at Harry looking bowled right down.

“What?” asked Harry.

“Well...” said the witch as she surveyed Harry’s outfit, “It’s not very inconspicuous.”

“That’s not why I bought it,” said Harry.

“It l qui quite tasty, though,” said the scrawny wizard as he stuck his head in again.

The witched shoved him away again and Harry tapped his bracelet to change back to normal. She led Harry away to get privacy from her friends.

“What’s your pleasure, dear?”

Harry pulled out an image from under his chair he printed off from his scroll printer earlier.

“I need one of these,” said Harry, “The smallest size they have. Small enough to fit someone who’s a size 4.”

The witch giggled a little as she looked at the picture, “Oh my, you are a randy one, aren’t you?”

The witch elbowed Harry a little and she took his money for the shop, laughing all the way in. Harry only followed her enough to make sure she went in. The other two wizards snuck up on Harry’s chair from behind, the scrawny one eyeing Harry’s armrest, the bulky one in the sweater eyeing Harry’s neck. The chair extended a rear view mirror that gave their positions away to Harry. Promptly he took out his wand, thought of his birthday yesterday and went;

“Expecto Patronum!”

The walls of the alley shook like an earthquake to make room for Prongs, making an extremely unsubtle entrance.

“Gentlemen, I don’t mind you snooping around the chair,” said Harry, “But the giant stag here is going to get pissed.”

Shielding their eyes from the blinding light of the Patronus, the two wizards bolted down the Alley, heading in the opposite direction from Diagon Alley, deeper into the dark gutts of Knockturn Alley. Harry laughed at them as they went, then he turned to Prongs and held his head close to him.

“I’ve missed you, big guy,” said Harry.

Hugging the Patronus with his eyes closed, Harry heaved a sigh, promising he would conjure him again now that he had his happy thoughts back. After a time that seemed a lot longer than necessary, the witch came out of the sex shop carrying plain brown box. She pretended not to see Harry and he caught on. Someone inside was watching her and he didn’t want the clerk to see them together or they would figure out she was buying stuff for him illicitly. He pretended not to see the witch, then took an alternate route back to where he found her near Borgin’s store. The witch was there, waiting for him.

“That lousy clerk was too suspicious about me having money,” said the witch, “You’re lucky I pass for a size four or he never would have believed I was buying this for myself. I had to haggle him way down to make it believable.”

“Whatever you haggle him down to, remember, you keep the difference for yourself,” said Harry.

“You’re good at doing business, dearrie,” said the witch.

She handed Harry the box and he opened it. There was less to it than he expected, but the size was definitely right. Harry then shut the box up and stowed it under his chair.

“You know, if you’re into that sort of thing dearrie, ol’ Patchee Sandeff here can help you out,” said the witch, “I have all sorts things that can fix you up to any dirty little desire you can have. I also have connections, dear.”

Harry could not help but think that having connections along these lines might just be helpful, just like the Order using that old thief Mungdungus Fletch.

“Do you have a business card?” asked Harry.

Like a street magician, the witch pulled a card from her bare hand and gave it to Harry.

“My email is on there,” she said, “It’s patchesdf@hotmail.com, all lowercase letters of course.”

Harry fingered the card thoughtfully.

“Alright,” said Harry, “I’ll keep in touch.”

Mr. Borgin bolted out of his store and yelled at them to not loiter in front or he would jinx the both of them. Harry was amused about being accused of being a hooligan as the chair lunged away in the opposite direction that Patchee Sandeff took off in. Harry laughed and slapped the chair to take off and head for Diagon Alley.

“You hear that, Chair? We’re hooligans,” said Harry, “We might have to head down to Brighton and join in the Mod/Rocker punch out festival. What do you feel like, a mod or a rocker?”

The chair changed itself back into an electric scooter as it flew, this time with a dozen rear view mirrors extending from it’s front end and The WHO playing from a radio. The chair was definitely a mod. Harry laughed out loud as he rode the flying scooter playing “Teenage Wasteland” on his way down to Diagon Alley. He then rode down the alley itself. Heading in no particular direction, Harry enjoyed the ride as he buzzed wizards and witches in the alley who called out to him for being reckless.
Harry parked the scooter and figured that Dumbledore must have had this much fun with the chair himself. He almost stepped off it. For a moment, a crucial moment, he simply forgot he was crippled. There was feeling, but his legs still would just not do what he wanted them to do. At best he could get his feet to kick out a little. Feeling sorry for himself, Harry looked up and for the first time noticed the storefront he was parked next to.

“Well I’ll be buttered and served with jam,” said Harry.

93 Diagon Alley, “Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes” lay right in front of him. The green paint job made it look new, despite the fact the building this store was in was likely centuries old. A galley of magical buzzing lights showed quite clearly it was open for business. Harry laid on the horn.

“Get the fuck out here you hag-loving wankers!”

The infamous tag team of mischief and mayhem bolted out the door like rough housing teenagers in their flashy green suits. Fred and George just hollered at the sight of Harry on his electric scooter. They hugged him, ruffled his hair, and patted his back.

“It’s about bloody time you showed up ‘Arry!”

“We just got back from Glasgow this morning!”

“Where’d you get the sweet ride?”

“Can we have a go?”

Harry tapped the chair and asked it to change back.

“I’m afraid I can’t share unless you have somewhere else where I can sit,” said Harry.

“Strewth! How’d you wind up in there?” asked Fred.

“You know, the usual, battling evil, cheating death eaters,” said Harry.

Harry brushed off his injury casually like it were a mere scratch while Fred and George rapped him for acting like a hero. Without giving the chair a chance to levitate its way in, the twins each grabbed an arm rest of the chair, picked it up, and hauled Harry inside as he called out from being rushed. The store was as big as Flourish and Blotts. Two stories high and filled from floor to ceiling with magical gimmickry and goods of all kinds, Harry just couldn’t figure out how on earth did Fred and George fill this store with so much stuff.
Wearing green robes that matched the colour of the twin’s jackets, Lee Jordan was behind the countekingking announcements to upcoming sales and shows. It closely resembled announcements Harry used to hear at supermarkets whenever he helped his Aunt with the shopping and pushed the grocery cart down the aisles.

“You have Lee working here?” asked Harry, “That’s brilliant!”

“He’s got talent,” said Fred.

“Yeah, all those Quiddich matches he announced for at Hogwarts,” said George, “He’s a natural. He also runs the place while we’re away.”

“What do you have him dressed in green for?” asked Harry, “He looks like a Slytherin in those robes!”

“We always hated that Slytherin used green,” said Fred.

“We always thought it was a proper colour,” said George.

Waving over the heads of the people inside, Fred and George got the attention of Lee Jordan, pointing out Harry. Jordan let a smile from ear to ear and waved back.

Jordan grabbed a microphone and announced, “To all customers. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes is proud to announce it is hosting the presence of famous Harry Potter. Heroic battler of the Death Eaters and defeater of Voldemort. 20% off all dark arts defence memorabelia merchandise during his stay.”

Harry wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of being hailed as a heroic defeater of Voldemort, then he realized Lee must have been speaking in the context of what happened to him as a child. It wasn’t really very pleasant being gawked at by people rushing up to him and marvel his scar while he was stuck in a chair. One pretty young lady actually touched his hair to see it. Fred and George shooed them away and Apparated Harry up to a second floor balcony that held manager’s desks. It overlooked the main floor and served as Fred and George’s office.

“It gives us a view of what’s going on at all times,” said Fred.

“And lets us know if any sneaky little thieves try creepin’ in here,” said George.

“What’s with the dark arts memorabelia?” asked Harry.

“Adjusting to the times Harry,” explained Fred, “Voldemort kicked the bucket. The Ministry is at war and winning.”

“Anything to do with Aurors is a really big seller right now,” said George.

Cautiously Harry asked, “Does anyone know exactly how Voldemort died?”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” asked George as he eyed Harry’s chair.

As much as Harry totally trusted Fred and George, he would die before endangering Hermione, and there was no telling who could bstenstening in, especially in a store full of magical listening devices invented by Fred and George. He shrugged and rattled off the line he got from Dumbledore, “Death by his own hands in his mad quest for power” and all that. However, he did let on that due to his inside information with the Order, Dumbledore was responsible, and Dumbledore wanted it to be perceived that way.

“There are some other things going on at the house involving the Ministry,” said Harry, “Are you coming to visit in August?”

“Too right we are,” said George.

“Well, maybe I should save it until then,” said Harry.

Fred accused Harry of winding them up, so George decided to do a little winding up of his own. He grabbed an accounting book and opened it in front of Harry.

“We’ve got something really special for you,” said George, “You’re a full partner here, Harry, this place never would have gotten started without you.”

“Even a thousand galleons couldn’t have possibly built all of this,” said Harry.

“It paid for four months rent, plus deposit,” said George, “That really got us off the ground, Harry.”

“Yeah, we were going to pick a much smaller place until you gave us those winnings,” said Fred, “Rent is so high around here we almost went with a place in Knockturn Alley.”

“Now because of our exposure, we make more than enough to pay the bills,” said George, “And a little tidy profit on the side, to witch you are a direct benefactor.”

Harry tried to protest that the twins owed him nothing, but they would have nothing of it.

“You’re in the business now, Harry, accept it,” said George as he went over the numbers, “Factoring how much you invested into it when it started, this is how much money you have coming to you.”

“THAT?” asked Harry, “But that’s much more money than I gave you!”

“There’s profn fun funny, Harry,” said Fred as he put his arm around George, and they simultaneously said, “And funny is money.”

A magical horn sounded off that was charmed to deliver a timp-crash every time Fred and George uttered that phrase. Harry heard something about what happened to new businesses and he took a pencil and started scribbling in the book.

“This is my percentage, right?” asked Harry.

George nodded.

“Right, you’re going to take that and divide it in half,” said Harry, “This half is going to be invested into a savings account. You’re going to look into high returns on investments into property bonds and Connexio scrolls. NO VANISHING LEPRECHAUN GOLD! The reason why is every business always runs through a little dry spell, the money is to carry everyone through the dry times. I don’t ever want to see anyone like Lee Jordan get laid off.”

“How do you know about Connexio scrolls?” asked Fred.

“Those aren’t easy to get, Harry,” said George.

“I inherited a bunch from my parents,” said Harry, “I have some pull with Gringotts so just build up a thousand galleons or so I’ll pick them up myself and then deposit them into a store account under your control.”

“Strewth, Harry, you’re one cracking partner,” said George.

“I’m not done yet,” said Harry, “Now, the other half, you divide that in half again.”

Fred looked at each other and smiled over what they anticipated was coming.

“Don’t get any ideas,” said Harry, “You need to spend money on something other than flashy greens suits. This half is to be used in research and development. Spend every dime of it. Make sure that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes never has to dip into the savings accounts. I want you guys to dream up of all k of of stuff like what caused mayhem at Hogwarts.”

“What are you going to do with the last quarter?” asked George.

“That I’m going to keep for myself,” Harry said reservedly, “Got to have some fun, eh? Sixth year is the party year, it’s time to share the wealth.”

Both Fred and George cat called out loud and Fred tossed a set of what looked like Chinese firecrackers lit by his wand over the banister to cause mayhem on the store floor. This didn’t make anyone upset as apparently this was a sign all of Weasley’s fireworks could be bought for half price for as long as the fireworks lasted. People rushed the cash register while Jordan called upstairs.

“Hey! You two promised you weren’t going to do that again today!”

“George promised he wouldn’t!” Fred called back, “I promise nothing!”

And Fred flung another set of fireworks over the side that bounced all over store.

George slapped Harry on the back and asked, “So what’s a jammy bastard like you going to do at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, without us or Lee Jordan around, partying has got to be about as fun as a History class,” said Fred, “Or one of Hermione lectures.”

Harry tapped his bracelet three times and looked jauntily at Fred Ged George from his costume, “Guys, Hermione and I have things planned that would get us EXPELLED if anyone caught wind of it.”

Then he tapped his bracelet to change back. Almost instantly he wished he didn’t choose to show off like that in a huff. Fred and George looked at him like he had pixies flying out of his ears, and even that would have been a little normal compared to the things he had in mind with Hermione.

“You call a costume ball an expellable offence?” Fred asked incredulously.

“Jeez, Harry, you’ve got to drop the lightweight stuff,” said George, “It’s time to play with the big boys.”

Harry wondered that if Fred or George had any idea what was in his box underneath his chair if they would ever consider THAT to be "lightweight". He was also hoping like heck they never actually heard of X-ray specs or ever tried to magically create a pair of their own. Considering what they constructed before, of all wizards Harry knew, Fred and George would definitely be up to the task of recreating some handy device that worked like Moody's magical eye. Fred took a book with their names printed on it that was sitting on one of the desks and proudly handed it to Harry.

“Our first publication,” said Fred, “Fred and George’s Magical Guide to Mischief and Mayhem.”

“Special deluxe Crack-Up edition,” said George, “This one is not even in print yet. You get the first unedited copy.”

“Yeah, our editor insisted we take a few things out before going to press,” said Fred.

“In order to avoid potential lawsuits, he said,” chuckled George, “Everything we ever did that caused mayhem at Hogwarts is in that book.”

“As well as a few new things we invented along the way here,” said Fred, “We made a deal with Flourish and Blotts, they actually wanted first print.”

“How the heck did you do this so soon?” asked Harry.

“This? We’ve been working on this since last summer,” said George.

“Yeah, you don’t think we wasted all our time studying to get passing grades, do you?” asked Fred.

“Besides, not all that stuff down there is our invention,” said George as he pointed down to the floor.

Harry looked down and noticed something, “Hey, those fire works you threw down have gone out already.”

“Muggle firecrackers,” said Fred, “We sell those here, too. We wouldn’t make money with that half-off deal if one of our fireworks was down there going off all day and night.”

“We sell lots of muggle goods,” said George, “Do you know that most wizards have never heard of a dribble glass? They think it’s a riot! Fake vomit, fart cushions, puzzle balls, even the Rubik’s Cube is brand new over here.”

“Our dad gave us the idea,” said Fred, “Mad as a March hare about muggles he is, but utterly brilliant. He had a puzzle ring we couldn’t solve. We were totally chuffed when we found out it was muggle.”

Fred reached into a little Dandy icebox they kept next to a filing cabinet and pulled out a bottle of champagne to celebrate the new business partnership.

Harry paused a bit going, "Uh, guys, I'm not old enough to drink."

"Yeah, how about that?" said Fred as he handed Harry a glass, "Cheers."

"We always keep the place stocked with quality spirits," said George.

"If any of them go missing because someone wants to smuggle a few into Hogwarts-", said Fred as he gave a wink.

"We'll just have to go out and buy some more," said George.

"Better read chapter seven if you want advice on that," said Fred and he tapped the book, "McGonagall is really strict on the booze."

Harry downed a few small glasses of champagne. It wasn't much but he drank it quickly. Once Harry said goodbye, the chair was doing all the driving on the way home. He giggled so much the chair had to dodge a cop to keep from being pulled over.

"You're drunk!" Hermione called out as Harry parked the scooter at the top of the stairs, "AND GOOD LORD YOU'VE BEEN DRIVING TOO!"

"I'm not that drunk," said Harry as he almost stepped off the scooter, "And the chair has been doing the driving."

Hairy took off his helmet and tapped the chair to turn back into a wheelchair.

"I didn't know it could do that," said Hermione, "I thought you were riding one of your Godfather's contraptions."

"How did you know about Sirius' bike?" asked Harry.

"Hagrid told me about it," said Hermione, "Said he brought it back here through the attic some time ago."

"I didn't know it was here," said Harry, "Hey! Let's take it for a joy ride!"

"Oh no you don't, Harry!" said Hermione.

Hermione grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and wheeled Harry away from the stairs. While she pushed Harry made vroom-vroom noises (with the occasional screech and crash) as he held his hands out like he was riding a motorbike.

"I'm not surprised you didn't know the bike in the attic," Hermione said scornfully, "You've been neglecting your owl, Harry."

"Aww, I'm a bastard, I haven't seen Hedwig in a week," Harry said mournfully, "Too much screwing. Let's go see him right now!"

Hermione said under her breath, "Yeah, maybe the air up there will sober you up."

Harry did feel genuinely bad that he had been neglecting his pet. Once Hermione had mentioned him he realized he hadn't even thought of Hedwig for ages, and Hedwig wasn't present at his birthday. Preparing his thoughts, Harry figured he better approach Hedwig diplomatically. A temperamental snowy owl (a formidable predator) was not something you wanted upset with you, especially if you couldn't run away from it. The ceiling was low on the top floor of the Black residence and slanted since it was actually the inside of the roof. The owlry was really a hole cut in the roof with several perches built around it in an attic. The room was dusty and looked like it could use with a good de-doxyfying. Just as he was afraid would happen, Hedwig was not looking at Harry or paying attention to him at all.

"Oh, come on, don't be that way," said Harry.

Harry wheeled his chair around Hedwig to see his face, and as he did, Harry could see for the first time, another slightly smaller snowy owl on the perch right next to him.

"You! I was all worried about you and you've got a dup hup here!" Harry accused.

"How do you know it's a girl owl?" asked Hermione.

"Look at them! They're playing kissy face," said Harry, "It's either a dame or I have a queer owl on my hands."

"Oh my god, Harry, they're building a nest!" said Hermione as she pointed, "Do you know what this means! WE'RE GOING TO HAVE LITTLE BABY SNOWY OWLS HERE!"

Hermione squealed and jumped in placed making a fuss over how unbelievably cute baby snowy owls would be. Harry just rolled his eyes over having several new mouths to feed and wondered if owl treats came in baby formulas.

"Better hope they don't get eaten," said Harry.

Harry pointed to Crookshanks who was skulking in the corner with his eye on the nest.

"You! OUT!" Hermione shouted as she shooed Crookshanks away.

The big fat orange cat tried to hold Hermione up as she pushed her foot against his bottom. Crookshanks grumbled to the door’s edge. Hermione firmly slammed the door on him, which, not to her knowledge, sent Crookshanks tumbling down the stairs like a beach ball at a rock concert. Then Hermione pulled out her wand and cast a spell on the entrance.

"I'm putting an impervious spell on it," said Hermione, "That cat is NOT getting in here. Not with Hedwig's baby's on the way."

"Hermione! We're in here! HOW DO WE GET OUT?"

"Relax, it only works on cats."

Harry paused for a bit.

"I'm not going to ask how you know that one."

Later on Hermione ran into the kitchen to find something to feed to Hedwig and his mate. Snape was there on the far end of the kitchen table having a coffee. Hermione pretended not to see him and started going through the cupboards.

“Your cat is stuck in the cauldron,” said Snape.

Hermione just gawked at Snape with a look like he intended to cook Crookshanks up for supper.

“What’s he doing in there?” asked Hermione.

Snape shrugged and said without even looking at Hermione, “He came rolling down the stairs, bounced off the walls a few times and landed in the cauldron. Looked like something from a Nick Park cartoon. I think he’s too fat to crawl out.”

Hermione just shook her head at Snape like he lost his mind and marched over to the cauldron by the cold fireplace and looked in it.

“ROWR.”

“What you doing, you crazy animal?” asked Hermione.

She bent in and lifted Crookshanks out of the cauldron and set him loose.

“No supper until dinner time!” Hermione called out as Crookshanks skulked away.

She gathered up some owl treats and went to run upstairs.

“You’re out of coffee filters,” Snape called out.

“Yeah, YOU’RE WELCOME, by the way,” Hermione called back, “Coffee filters, I’ll get right on that.”

Hermione ran up the stairs to get back to the owlry. Her respect for Snape only went as far as him being a professor. Now, in her eyes, he was a civilian she didn’t have to take orders from him. Being a guest in the house, whether a member of the Order or not (no matter how many life or death missions he may be on) he needed to learn a little respect. Back at the top of the stairs, Hermione found Harry trying to pull away boxes and junk piled up around the attic.

“Where the hell is the bike?” asked Harry.

Hermione crumbled up some owl treats and said, “Harry, it’s probably in the garage.”

“This place has a garage?” asked Harry.

“I don’t know, did you ever bother to look?” asked Hermione.

“Well, it’s just.... the bike flies,” said Harry, “I figured the most obvious place to leave it would be up here.”

“Did Mr. Weasley park his flying car in the attic?” asked Hermione.

“No! It would have come crashing down through the burrow like a great sopping elephant!” said Harry.

Hermione tested the creaky boards of the attic with her feet and asked, “Hagrid may have landed here but would you park a great sopping six or seven hundred pound cruiser on this dodgy floor?”

Harry bit his lip in thought for a second and looked down at the skid marks in the dust.

“I think I’ll go look for a garage,” said Harry, “Knowing Hagrid, he probably carried it down the stairs like a bicycle and jammed it into a closet somewhere.”

Hermione dropped crumbled owl treats into the nest as Hedwig and his mate chirped at her delightedly. She wanted to think of a name for Hedwig’s mate and hoped, just a little selfishly, that she didn’t already have a master. There were no plans to approach her and drop posts in front her beak. All that mattered was the babies. It was a great sign that she did take Hermione’s owl treats and wolfed them down.

“You eat up,” said Hermione as she dumped in more, “You’re eating for a whole family now.”

After supper Hermione had found herself in a bit of a row with Harry. She bickered bitterly all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“I can’t believe you went to see Fred and George without me!” said Hermione, “I wanted to see the new store! They have books, Harry. BOOKS!”

“It was just business, Hermione, I’m a partner,” said Harry as he wheeled into the bedroom, “We had to work out a few things financially, it was really dry stuff, it would have bored you.”

“It bored you enough to come home all tipsy,” accused Hermione.

“Well, we celebrated a little after we finished-“

“Of course, I understand,” said Hermione, “The boys night out. I’m surprised you didn’t hire a bunch of strippers.”

Harry stubbornly kept his tone perfectly calm and wheeled right up to Hermione and took her hand.

“I didn’t go out to see them at all,” said Harry, “I just happened to run into them. It was not planned.”

“Then why did you go out?”

“I went out to get something special for you,” said Harry, “We only ha few few days left where we have this place to ourselves. After that we go to Hogwarts. I wanted to do something just for you, to show... how I felt, my love, my appreciation, things I can’t put into to words about how I feel about you.”

Harry lifted his right arm to show her the simple silver bracelet he had on his wrist. Hermione dropped the sour look from her face and examined it a little intrigued.
’s v’s very pretty,” Hermione coldly said a-matter-of-factly, “You bought it for me?”

Harry smiled broadly, showing his teeth and said, “I most certainly did.”

Pulling his hand away, Harry kept the bracelet on and made Hermione feel puzzled. Harry locked the chair in place and climbed out of it onto the floor. He crawled on his hands and knees doing his best to lift his hips up.

“What on earth are yoingoing?” asked Hermione.

Harry looked at Hermione suggestively while licking his teeth, then tapped the bracelet three times. At first, Harry was worried he wasn’t getting any reaction at all from Hermione as he rolled over and acted kitten-like. Then he realized Hermione was too shocked to react at all. She just stood there with her mouth open while he crawled as seductively as he could across the floor, and athletically pulled himself up the bedposts and onto the sheets.

Hermione barely breathed out, “Harry... what... how...?”

Harry wasn’t listening, he crawled to the head of the bed, repeatedly making suggestive looks at Hermione, licking his lips and snapping his teeth at her. There were two velvet ropes tied to each bedpost at the head of the bed, and Harry brushed them lightly. Like violent snakes they came to life and abruptly tied Harry’s arms up, pulling him down to the bed. Harry cried out playfully like a helpless victim.

“Harry... this is not such a good idea!” warned Hermione.

“Is what not such a good idea?” Harry said as he cooed at Hermione, “Worried about getting in over your head? Better not open that box in front of you.”

For the first time Hermione noticed a cubicle and simple plain cardboard box in front of her, less than a foot square. With shaky breath she bent down and slowly pulled the lid open. Inside was a double-ended strap-on, a very specific one. She recognized the dildo from the Connubium Charms book, it was magically enchanted to discharge the Delectatio charm on its own after being touched by a wand. Hermione pulled away and shuddered as a little fang protruded from her mouth.

“Harry,” she pleaded uselessly and she drifted as she spoke, “This is dangerous, it’s double ended! If I fuck you with this I could lose control.”

“So lose it!” said Harry as he squirmed in the ropes, “I’m a bad kitty, Herm! I! I need to be punished with a good hard FUCKING!”

Harry heard a cougar roar coming from the other end of the room, along with the sound of clothes being torn asunder. Useless rags that used to be a blouse, jeans, and underwear were flung over Harry’s head to the windowsill. He looked up and saw Hermione, or what used to be Hermione. She had turned completely cat like in her appearance, just exactly as she was the day the polyjuice potion went wrong for her. Right down to the pointed ears and tail. A major difference now was her womanly form and ample bosom made to appear more voluptuous than ever in her two tone fur.
Harry showed no hint of fear as he snarled at Hermione in his cute CATS make up. Turning her head like an inquisitive animal, Hermione approached the bed and without taking her eyes off of Harry tossed the strap-on onto the sheets. Then she climbed onto Harry, her claws groping and fondling his meaty flesh all over. She wanted to taste Harry and licked his neck. The rumbling from her chest almost vibrated the bed. It was obvious this changed body of hers held dangerous and immense physical power.
Without any effort at all she ripped the velvet ropes off the bed to pull Harry’s arms free and turned him over onto his back. His weight was like a rag doll to her. She just seemed to drink him in, taking in the whole costume, his beautiful body and breathed heavily on him. Drool almost gushed from her lips. Her clawed hand felt his stomach and found the little flap Madame Malkins installed so Harry could use the toilet and pulled his cock out.
Hermione's cat whiskers tickled Harry’s abdomen as she engulfed Harry with ease. He was a little worried her fangs my pierce him but she sucked him gently with no feeling of fang on his flesh at all. Her cat’s tongue did feel a little rough against the underside of his cock, but that wasn’t bad. Hermione reached up and took Harry’s hands and put them onto the top of her head, she was guiding him to let him know she wanted him to fuck her mouth. Firmly Harry held Hermione’s cat’s ears, this made her purr and vibrate his flesh and he fucked her mouth until he gushed cum into her head.
Hermione sucked a little more, and with a “sloop” sound pulled his cock out of her moucasucasually wiping cum off her face. She looked to Harry adoringly as she got on top of him. Sticking her finger into her own fur she worked herself open and took Harry into her with much greater ease than the first time she fucked him. Screaming and growling with sheer delight she rode Harry until he was certain the bed would break. Then she stopped, turning her head again like an inquisitive animal and eyed the strap on. With Harry still inside her, she picked it up and licked it as she purred.
Furry breasts smothered Harry’s face as she leaned forward to take his cock out of her. Whatever part of Hermione’s reasoning was left figured if Harry liked being tied up, why not do it for real? She looked up at the bed curtains and noticed some ancient velvet ropes, then she reached up to rip them down. Like a rapist she turned Harry over and lassoed his wrists to the rungs in the wooden head board. Harry struggled onto his stomach, giggling a little as Hermione lay on top of him and tormented him. She tongued Harry’s ear as she worked her fingers up inside her self. The purring from her chest was nearly causing the whole bed to vibrate.
Holding the strap on like a hara-kiri blade, Hermione jammed the dildo up inside herself. Harry felt a few butterflies as he could hear Hermione buckling the strap on and getting ready for business. This was the first moment he was having second thoughts and worried if he was in over his head. Hermione was literally an animal, she might hurt him without even meaning to. Then he realized the fear was definitely turning him on. Apprehension be damned, he wanted gobs of Delectatio up his ass.
Madame Malkins didn’t modify the suit to allow sodomy, but Harry knew Hermione would work something out. She fondled his rear end, tickling his gluteus with her claw and drawing around his asshole. Then, like discovering a new talent, Hermione extended a long claw from her index finger and poked it into Harry. He thought it was a little over the top being finger fucked by something that could gut him like a fish, but she didn’t wiggle it inside him for long.
To his left Harry could see a furry clawed hand reach for Hermione’s wand on the night table. He took a deep breath and prepared himself.
Hermione reached around Harry’s waist and pulled him up to get him up on all fours, then a growling voice performed a little Invigorate charm on his hips to give him enough muscle control to stay up. The furry Hermione tortured and tormented Harry all around his ass with Delectatio until he called out loud;

“Dammit, Hermione, FUCK ME!”

Then Hermione touched the Delectatio charm to the tip of the dildo, and almost fell off the bed. She squirmed and screamed as the dildo inside fired off Delectatio into her. It was almost too much for her to bear and she had to struggle to get up on her knees behind Harry as he asked over and over if she was alright. Hermione wanted Harry to shut up and take this dildo inside him and start screaming.
Harry could feel sparks of Delectatio splash against his asshole and knew this was it. Hermione entered him with the long skinny dildo and pushed it all the way in. Normally letting himself be fucked like this for the very first time (without proper preparation) would have torn his rectum, but the dildo had a lubrication charm on it. Harry was letting out howls that could rival Hermione’s, until she fucked him hard enough to bash his face against the head board. Then Harry decided he better pay a little closer attention to what was going on.
Hermione laughed like a barbarian as she watched waves of Harry’s flesh travel over the top of his ass with each impact she made against him with her hips. Harry pushed against the head board to keep his face from smashing into it again. It wasn’t easy. The feeling of Delectatio building up in his ass was overwhelming him. He wished like anything his cock was inside someone right now, ANYONE. He just wanted to feel Delectatio ejaculate out of his cock, but the spell solved that for him. It built up pressure in his balls until it exploded out the head of his penis and splashed like a bucket of white fire spilling all over the sheets.
Hermione could see sparks of Delectatio bounce around the sheets under Harry and also thought it was a waste his cock wasn’t inside someone right this moment. For the rest of the night she fucked away up Harry’s ass as she made plans in her head. Harry went through a lot of trouble to make her happy as she admired his ingenious CATS costume, maybe it was time to give him a special treat.