Girls & Boys

A/N: Well, it\'s here, finally. So sorry for the interminable wait to get this update. This chapter, in particular, took quite a long time to write, and was very difficult in many respects. It ended up being completely unexpected to what I had initially been envisioning. You all should thank JoeHundredaire profusely for getting me through this chapter. He literally had to coach me along.



So, hope it was worth the wait.















Chapter 10





Harry sat outside by the Black Lake with his textbooks surrounding him on the ground and a roll of parchment across his lap, a book underneath the paper resting against his legs as a makeshift desk. He was trying to finish his Potions essay before Hermione joined him, but he’d told her to meet him at three o’clock. She was due at any minute, as soon as her Ancient Runes class let out, and he still had a few more inches to add to his essay before he’d filled the required lines. He’d been slowly but surely catching up to the work assignments he’d been putting off since his sex life had exploded, but in the last week, Harry had sworn off girls and sex entirely, feeling a sabbatical was in order to give him some much needed perspective. And he didn’t need to add any more fuel to the rumors that were consistently swirling around him. Both Su and Kelley had propositioned him again, several times, since the group effort that had taken place a few weekends ago, and he had given in to them on one occasion shortly after the orgy, but these days when they came around he just shook his head before they could even get close enough to ask, making sure to keep moving forward and not let them corner him. Even Hannah and Daphne Greengrass had accosted him in the hallways at different instances. He’d been as polite as he possibly could to Hannah, not wanting to hurt the girl’s feelings, but muttering quickly that he had a lot of homework to focus on and that he was still serving his detention at night.





With Daphne, however, he’d been hard pressed to hold back his indignation, gaping at her after she’d backed him into the wall of one of the lesser traveled passageways near the dungeons and suggested that they meet up for a romp, ‘just the two of us’, so she could abuse him just the way he liked. He couldn’t accept the fact that she’d be so blatant about wanting to fuck him again when it was apparent to all that she’d been doing her part to spread the gossip about him to every end of the school. And he was supposed to give her another opportunity to do so? The bint was as barmy as Luna if she thought he was that much of a fool. Harry had had a few choice words for her before stomping off, his head hung low, but then she had shouted out to him suddenly that she could see what it was about Luna that he was so drawn to. He’d stopped in mid-step, frozen for a second as he decided whether or not to take the bait. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, though, and he’d turned to Daphne in askance.



“She’s quite the lusty adventurer, your loony bird. I’d take you both on, if you wanted. Wouldn’t mind seeing the two of you together in action,” she purred.



“What the fuck are you on about? I don’t have time for your cutesy insinuations, Daphne. Either say it straight or sod off; I’ve got shit to do.” Her eyes had gone wide at his bluntness, but then that damned smirk had re-appeared, as insufferably predictable as Malfoy’s.



“Mercy me, Potter; tone it down. I was just going to—”



She’d gone quiet as a few other students came traipsing down the hall. Reluctantly, Harry had meandered back to where she stood and leaned his shoulder up against the wall so he could hear her finish.



“I just meant that she’s a lot of fun,” the girl continued in a softer voice. “She came to the Slytherin dungeons and turned out to be a blast. Granted, she’s a bit of an oddball, and something of a size queen, but we were all impressed with her attitude. Seems she’s a bit of an ‘anything goes’ kind of bird. Between the two of you, I would expect the sky’s the limit in your sexual shenanigans. I wouldn’t mind being a part of that, is all I was suggesting.”



Harry had sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he pressed the side of his head to the cool stone. “And who is we, exactly?” He had a fairly good idea of the cast of characters involved, but he was resigned to hearing their names anyway.



“Oh, you know, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Gregory, Andrew, the usual gang. Pansy and I were there, obviously, and a few other blokes. They really liked Luna.” She gave him a tentative smile, as if she were informing him of their approval after the Slytherins had been baking cookies with his ex instead of engaging in another sordid fuckfest.



“Wow, you really can’t keep anything shut up inside that gob of yours, can you? You’re easily the biggest blabbermouth in the entire school. And you think I’m going to get back together with my slutty ex-girlfriend just so we can bang your brains out and have you spill it to every student that walks by? You’re off your gourd.”





He’d shaken his head wearily as he turned away and left her there, pleased that he hadn’t let the news of Malfoy’s involvement rile him up into another fit. Luna could do whatever she wanted, fuck whomever she fancied, and it was nothing to him. Or, that was what he’d tried to convince himself, at any rate. Yet, images of Luna with those depraved buggers had lingered in his thoughts all that night, making it impossible for him to get any sleep. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just forget about her, why he couldn’t accept that Luna was an experiment that had gone horribly wrong and it was time to move on. So she had screwed around with some questionable people, but hadn’t he, also? No one as bad as Malfoy and that lot, but surely, the fact that he and Luna had both been with Daphne was cause for concern, he worried. It had been purely about sex with that one, and perhaps that’s how Luna saw her dalliances with the prats from Slytherin and Ravenclaw—a strictly sexual experience where she could go a bit wild. Once again, he had found himself thinking from her perspective. Luna cared for him, she’d said, but she also cared a great deal about sex. She didn’t seem to feel it was a requirement to care for all of her sexual partners, though, the casualness of it making the sex seem freer and more accessible. So, then how was he to know that what they did together was in any way special? How did their experiences transcend the ones she had with random students? How about his? Harry’s mind turned back to her questions about the orgies she’d arranged, and how he had enjoyed servicing all of the girls in one way or another. How was he any different from her?





The snap of a twig on the forest floor made him look up, extinguishing his maddening thoughts like pinched fingers to a burning wick. Hermione was walking towards him with a cumbersome load of books in her arms while carrying a satchel over her shoulder holding more books by the looks of its hanging weight. Her fat, bushy curls whipped up in the gust of wind that suddenly blew off the lake and she stopped in her stride to turn away from it for a moment, her eyes scrunched. Harry dropped his own book to the ground, stuffing the parchment between the pages before running to help his friend make her way to his spot.



“Harry, are you mad? It’s freezing out here! How can you get any work done with the wind interfering every few seconds?” she cried, her hand casting over the choppy lake as evidence.



“Oh, sorry. I don’t really feel that cold, and I’ve got a charm keeping the wind off my books. Did you want to go somewhere else for revising?”



“Yes! That’s what the library is for, Harry! I’d understand sitting out here if it was the middle of summer, but we’re supposed to be getting snow again tomorrow. Let’s go back into the castle before my face becomes completely chapped.”



Harry pouted. He’d specifically wanted a place where they could talk away from prying ears. “The library’s hardly very private, though, is it? I told you, I needed some advice.” Hermione looked at him expectantly. “It’s personal,” he added.



She gave him a suffering sigh, but her eyes went distant as she thought about alternatives. “Fine, then, how about the Room of Requirement,” she suggested, one eyebrow arching up as she scanned him up and down. “I hear it’s one of your favorite places, now.”





Harry couldn’t contain the heat rushing into his face; he should have realized Hermione would have heard something sooner or later. He’d been expecting she’d come running to him, however, if she’d heard anything salacious, and then yelling at him for being a pig. But Hermione’s cynical tone brought him up short. He hadn’t been confiding in her much about anything, lately. He’d been too busy wrapped up in Luna and her crazy ideas. Now with Luna, and as of a week ago, Lavender, being out of the picture, both he and Ron had been less occupied with girls and starting to feel a bit guilty over the way they’d been treating their other best friend. And while he might have discussed much about Luna with Ron, there were certain things that Harry couldn’t see himself admitting to his mate. Hermione might be a better sounding board; she had the advantage of a girl’s point of view, which he sorely needed right now, and she was more inclined to be understanding of his….odd feelings. At least, that was what he was hoping for. He wasn’t up to getting decked in the face again. The only other person he could imagine discussing his new urges with would have been Luna, herself, and that was out of the question.



“Yeah, well, that was one of the things I needed to talk to you about, alright? Are you going to listen to my side of it or am I going to have to put up with you ridiculing me the whole time?”



Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm, her mouth pinched before she spoke. “What? You mean to tell me it’s true, then? Merlin, Harry; when did you turn into such a—a—a teenage boy?”



Harry gave a dry snort. “Er, I’ve, uh, been a teenage boy for a few years now, Hermione. You hadn’t noticed?”



“Yes, yes, I know that. I just meant…well, you’ve never shown yourself to be, you know, brain-addled and sex-obsessed, like so many other boys that I can think of, right now. You generally have more important—and certainly more substantial—thoughts on your mind. When did you even become sexually active? I heard there were six of them, Harry! Six! I sincerely hope you studied your contraceptive charms, plus there are sexually transmittable diseases one needs to watch out for and protect themselves against, as well. Did you even think about these things before you started shagging groups of girls in the Come and Go room?” She finished her rant in an exasperated huff, glaring at him like he was a complete idiot.



Harry just stared at her for a few silent seconds. Why, exactly, had he thought she would understand his situation again?



“Er, never mind, ‘Mione. I’ll figure it out. Sorry I made you come out here.” He moved to put his things away into his rucksack, ignoring her splutters of protest as he reached for his books.



“Wha—wait—I didn’t—you surprised me, Harry, alright?! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to jump all over you. Really, I want to help.” Harry turned to look at her and she gave him a weak smile of apology as she tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, then, we can talk in the castle.”



~~~o



Harry sat stiffly on the flowered divan in what essentially appeared to be someone’s living room. It looked an awful lot like the Dursleys’, although the décor was not quite as putrid as Aunt Petunia’s sense of style, but tasteful, nonetheless. He had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione might have conjured up the front room of her own house, oddly enough. It reminded him that he’d never been to her home before, never even been to her neighborhood, and there was still a lot about Hermione’s life away from Hogwarts that he was ignorant of. He tried to imagine what her bedroom must look like: books crammed in every corner, surely, but with a touch of girlishness in there somewhere? Did she have posters of her heroes Sellotaped to the walls? Was there an overwhelming splash of pink coming from every detail of trim? It amused him to think of her in her own domestic space, worrying about girly things like her hair and what bras and knickers she should wear. He thought again of how she’d reacted to Ron’s sudden interest in Lavender Brown and felt a stab of guilt knowing that she’d probably been harboring an attraction to the git for a while. And she’d probably had no one to talk about it with, least that he could tell. Perhaps Ginny? He hoped that it was so. He didn’t want to feel like a bad friend on top of everything else.





“So, uh,” Hermione began hesitantly. “What, well, what exactly has been going on with you, Harry? Ever since Luna, you’ve been…I haven’t spoken to you much.”



Harry had to stymie his shame. He HAD been a horrible friend, practically shunning the poor girl while he avoided getting caught between her and Ron’s awkwardness, and then chasing after Luna with whatever mad scheme she had going for the day. The pair of them had gotten much better lately, were close to congenial in the last few days, but then, his mind had been elsewhere.



“Sorry about that. I’ve been…preoccupied, I guess you could say. I didn’t mean to ignore you, honestly. I’m a bit out of sorts since that whole mess with Luna. But…I could really use your advice right now, Hermione. I’m totally fucked at the moment.”



Hermione winced. “Harry, language. I’m not sure what I can offer you that will help any, I’m not even sure what your complaint is, but why don’t you start from the top and I’ll see what I can do. I’m assuming that—well—that your relationship with Luna was, uh, sexual, then? Before you got involved with all of these girls that can’t seem to stop themselves from harassing you, that is?”



Harry couldn’t help it; his face burned bright red. “Ye-e-eahhh,” he stretched out the word as he tried to think of a way to sum up his time with Luna, “that would be an accurate assumption.”





“Okay, so why don’t you start there. What happened that made you break up with her? Did she find out you’d been…well, fooling around on her? Although, Ron said that it was definitely your decision but he wouldn’t say why.”





“Gods, where do I begin? And you’ve got it totally backwards.” Harry paused while dwelling on the more negative aspects of life with the loony bird. “I mean, it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with the sex—that was rather brilliant, actually—but I mostly had a problem with the fact that she’s a lying whore.”





Hermione winced, yet again, giving a disdainful shake of her head. “Luna? A liar? You’re joking, surely? She seems to believe incontrovertibly everything that comes out of her mouth, but I can’t see her willfully being dishonest. Or are you just being unkind because of something she did?”





“Yeah, I am, and yeah, she really is. Mainly because what she did constituted her sleeping around with a bunch of blokes while we were dating. And I’m not talking just a shag here and there, but a…well, let’s just say that Luna espouses the phrase, ‘the more, the merrier’ and leave it at that.”





Hermione studied him carefully for a few moments, her mouth draped open, before tentatively replying. “So…the tales going ‘round about you and the other girls…does this mean you were trying to get back at her or something? Because I have to tell you, Harry; I’m still a bit shocked by what I’ve been hearing. It doesn’t even sound like you. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to judge you, but…I just never expected such behaviour.”





The skin on Harry’s face had turned prickly from the intense amount of heat lighting up his cheeks. He felt ready to combust and didn’t think it possible to get any more embarrassed in front of his friend. He’d been absolutely mad to think discussing this with her was a good idea, but at the same time, he was already in it now, he might as well finish telling her the rest of it. Maybe he would glean some sort of explanation through all of her preaching, he hoped. He glanced down for the briefest second and his eyes instinctively scanned Hermione’s chest. He didn’t mean to do it, but it was like a nervous tick or something. Hermione had opened the front of her robe in the warmth of the room, but even with her sensible white school blouse underneath, Harry could still discern that his best friend owned a very nice pair of breasts. Not huge, by any means, but just very there. He decided at that moment that Ron was completely mental for not jumping on that action. But as he shot his eyes back up to her wary face, his thoughts turned to something Su had said at that crazy orgy, and he suddenly wondered what he would have done if Hermione had shown up in this very same spot with all the rest of them a few weeks ago. Hermione was a girl, after all, he reminded himself, and she might very well be just as sexual as some of the other brainy birds he’d shagged. It was certainly worth considering that side of her, a possibly less repressed Hermione.





“To be honest, ‘Mione, I never expected it from myself, either. But it happened. What do you want me to say?” He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “I like sex. A lot. There, I admit it. You must think me an awful human being, now.”





Oddly, it was Hermione who blushed this time. “Harry, I think nothing of the kind, don’t be silly.” She looked away from him as she stumbled through her reply. “It’s just—I didn’t say—I mean, there’s nothing wrong with liking sex. It’s a heal—healthy expression of human, uh, you know, emotional…sexual, er, response. Uh, attitudes being what they are, it’s just not…well, I expected you would be more careful with your reputation.” She gave him a meaningful glance. “I don’t like to hear people talk about you that way. It’s like the start of fifth year all over again.”





Fuck, thought Harry. How did she manage to make him feel like a shit-heel at every turn? Here she was, worried about what the students were calling him around the school, and he was staring at her tits wondering what she’d be like on her back. He really was a complete arse.





“Yeah, alright, I have questionable taste in sexual partners, I agree. Greengrass is a gobshite of the first order. You’re absolutely right that I should be more careful. But I…I’ve been, I don’t know, feeling sort of swept along with Luna, lately. And I never suspected…well, that was stupid of me really, I mean, look at how I discovered her.”





“Huh?” Hermione’s expression turned puzzled. “Discovered her? You’re going to have to follow through on a thought, Harry. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re on about.”





Harry tried to maintain focus so he could reasonably explain things to his flummoxed friend. “Luna is just—promiscuous by nature, alright? It had nothing to do with me. I caught her having it off with—” he swallowed hard before saying the odious words, “—Vaisey and Nott. It was quite by accident, but, you know, I chased them away thinking they were taking advantage of her or something, and then she was….well, she was, er, quick to…thank me.” He darted a sheepish glance to Hermione who merely raised an eyebrow in silent commentary. “Then, it was like, the next day we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, practically. Every time I came across her, she was instantly pulling me into the nearest broom cupboard for a shag. It was a bit of a whirlwind for me, but, well, I could appreciate how relaxed I felt afterward. She’s quite brilliant at that. It felt good, but more than that, I liked being around her, you know?” He rolled his eyes at Hermione, feeling chagrined by his naiveté. “She was funny and sweet, and—sorry to be blunt—but she gives amazing head, and it’s just very, I don’t know, soothing being around her, alright?” he finished defensively. Hermione studied him a bit more before speaking.





“And then, I take it, you found out later that she was still having sex with the other two? Or,” and she looked away from him once more, “well, I only overheard this from a few students walking the halls after curfew when I was on rounds, but from what you’ve implied, I gather you heard about her, uh, antics with a group of Slytherins, then, right before you broke up with her?” She glanced back at his face and when he only glowered at her, his mouth a tight line, she put her hand to his shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly. “Oh, Harry. How humiliating for you. What on earth could she have been thinking to do such a thing? I didn’t believe it when I heard them talk about her, at first; I thought for sure it was complete tosh. I agree that she can be very sweet, but I think she’s got a bit of a…well, her reasoning is not quite of this plane of reality, is it?” She shook her head sadly as if Luna’s oddness explained everything.





Harry chafed at her sympathetic coddling, but pressed on, thinking that perhaps it was preferable to have her shocked by his outrageousness. “Yeah, well, I found out about that much later, after we’d already been…you know, experimenting. I’d done things with her that should have tipped me off, but I was stupid to think she would be…faithful, I guess. The truth of it is—we’d done some messing about with Luna’s roommates—at her urging. She was the one who instigated me, uh, taking care of several girls at once. So, what I was doing in the Room of Requirement wasn’t anything new.” He watched with some satisfaction as Hermione’s eyes widened on cue.





“Merlin, Harry, what in the…? She was here while you shagged all those girls?” Her hands splayed out to indicate the room.





“Well, no, not that time. That came after we split up. I meant before that, up in her dorm.” His blush came back in full force as he suddenly recalled what they’d done on Hermione’s bed. Hermione, for her part, appeared officially gobsmacked.





“My God, what is wrong with you lot? Do you not know how to have sex with one person? Not to mention your blatant flouting of house rules. Your eccentric girlfriend loaned you out like a pet seal and you were surprised when she didn’t find fidelity to her standards? Did you not see a pattern developing, there? Please inform me, Harry, what other ‘experiments’ have you been up to?” she demanded heatedly.





Harry’s eyes narrowed at her indignant expression. He had been too quick to want to banish sympathetic coddling, it seemed. His first response was to give her an earful right back. He opened his mouth to blast her, but paused as he watched her face blanch, looking suddenly shamefaced.





“Er, sorry, Harry. That was rude of me. I’m still a bit shocked, I guess. Please…carry on. I promise not to go off the handle. I’m just…getting used to the idea, alright?”





Harry calmed down. She was only being protective in her own way, he decided. But Harry really did need some help, and if anyone was brilliant enough to provide him some answers, it was Hermione.





He let out a shuddering breath. “Right, well, I did say that it was daft of me to be so trusting, didn’t I?” he reminded her with some humility. “But the thing is—” he took another long pause as he tried to collect his thoughts, “she’s different, I understand that. And she got me to try things that I would have never expected to…like. She introduced me to this whole other way of seeing things, I suppose, and it was becoming like, well, Luna was managing me, and I’d just go with it, I didn’t really think about it much. So, when she asked me to perform sexually for Su and her friends, it was as though, I felt…” he exhaled again as he struggled to come up with the proper words to describe his state of mind. “Needed?” he pondered aloud, but that didn’t really sound right. He’d liked the way they’d used him to get off, just a basic transaction that he didn’t have to bother to get emotional about. He’d simply been an instrument. It was almost akin to what he was used to growing up with in the Dursleys’ house, but instead of him being derided or ignored, he’d been rewarded.





Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed together, her face tight in concentration. “Sounds like you’re describing you and Dumbledore, Harry. Without the sex part, of course,” she added just as seriously.





Harry snorted. “Sorry? What do you mean by that? How is that—? That’s bizarre, Hermione.”





“No, not really, Harry, if you consider the source. You didn’t think twice about letting Slughorn—how did you put it?—collect you for his trophy club on Dumbledore’s orders. After all those years of being kept in the dark, and all of your ensuing frustrations, now that he’s finally being straight with you, giving you some real instruction during these meetings, you’re ready to do anything he says. Maybe that translated to your relationship with Luna, too.”





It was if a crowd from the Quidditch pitch suddenly erupted into a thousand different cries in his head. Harry could only gawk at her as he feverishly filtered through the barrage of questions he wanted to ask her. Hermione’s logic made sense to him in such a way that it now seemed blatantly obvious. He’d been quite thick not to see the connection before. Ever since Harry had understood that he really was The Chosen One, that it would ultimately be him pitted against Voldemort, he’d been waiting to be filled with some sort of purpose. He’d felt, every day, the way the students in school, people in the streets, even those in the Ministry, were watching him in expectation, observing their ‘saviour’ with hopeful anticipation. But Harry had been adrift, lost, struggling with how he was going to fulfill this destiny of his that had been plunked down before him. He’d come to resent their faith in his fight, in their collective acknowledgement that he was their deigned champion in a contest he’d had no choice in entering, just like in fourth year. It wasn’t fair.





But as soon as Dumbledore had given him some direction, had steered him on course like he was the rudder on a boat, the rebel in Harry had sighed in relief. And then Luna had come along, granting him a role that he was motivated to play. She’d had the ability to mold him—literally, on several occasions—into a tool that was expressly designed to satisfy the needs and wants of the girls who had fawned over him ever since they’d heard his name. And Harry had discovered that he’d been eager to do it, feeling like he’d been meant to do it all along. Instantly, he knew he’d been right to see this discussion through. What else would Hermione be able to figure out for him?





“Go on, then,” he prompted, excited to hear her theories.





“Well, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me? What exactly did you need my advice on? Whether you should stop carrying on with all of these...orgies? Because I would agree with you there, it’s rather…reckless of you, Harry,” she said cautiously.





He felt flushed once more, but at this point, he expected his reaction with every disapproving line. Hermione’s bossiness could be trying at times, but something about her scolding him for being a dirty boy was kind of arousing, as long as she didn’t go off on one of her rants.







“No, not that,” he muttered. “And for the record, I put a stop to that myself, alright? But…I don’t know what to do about Luna.” He shook his head as he glanced up at the ceiling, avoiding Hermione’s intensive gaze. “It’s like…I miss her. Which feels stupid, because…I mean, look at what she did, what she is. I shouldn’t—shouldn’t want to…want her back, right? That seems wrong. Like, I’m weak for, I dunno, wanting to forgive her, I guess.” When he looked back into Hermione’s face, she was giving him that hard look again. Yet, when she spoke, her voice was kind.





“That doesn’t make you weak, Harry; that just makes you a compassionate person. I suspect there was no malice in what Luna was doing, considering what we know of her personality, but maybe she didn’t realize you wanted more from her? I mean, you said one day she was propositioning you and the next day you two were off on your sexual misadventures. Perhaps she didn’t understand that you wanted to be committed to her in a relationship? Is that what you want, Harry? Have you ever even told her how you feel about her?”





Damn, she would go and bring up the touchy stuff. But that had been one of the attributes of dating Luna—they didn’t have conversations about ‘feelings’.



“Well, sort of. But, I suppose we never stipulated that, yes, we were in a relationship where I expected her to only sleep with me. Obviously, our arrangement was a bit unusual. I just…assumed that she was only interested in being my girlfriend, though. Didn’t think I had to confirm it, but with her, yeah, it was a bit silly, really, to think we were on the same wavelength. It’s just that….well, what if she doesn’t want to stop screwing around with other blokes? Or even other girls? I don’t know if I could handle that, but I feel like a hypocrite for wanting her to myself, when she lets me fuck around. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to react to this whole thing.” He felt the weight of his words crash into his gut; that blow to his confidence coming back in full force.





“But you won’t know until you talk to her, will you? Ask her what she wants from you and start from there. If it’s not what you’re comfortable dealing with, then at least you’ll know that you gave it a chance, right? And you have to be very clear with her about what boundaries need to be set.” Hermione paused to flick her eyes over him as she tucked her teeth over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth to speak, but then continued staring at him for a bit longer, her face frozen. Finally, she sighed heavily, her eyes darting to her knees as she crossed her arms tightly to her chest. “I know how hard it is to walk that tightrope, to not want to seem hypocritical to others when the things you are drawn to aren’t always…proper. Or even make sense. Like there’s this other side to you that can’t be let out, because they’ll never understand.” She looked up and locked her eyes to his, a certain resolve leaping into those brown irises even as her cheeks bloomed into pinkish hues.





“Can I ask you a personal question, Harry?”





His forehead creased as he squinted at her. “Yes?” he replied warily. Everything they’d been discussing had been pretty bloody personal, so far, what level of embarrassment was he going to have to endure now?





“When you say that Luna managed you…what exactly did that…entail?”





Harry felt a surge in his groin, the muscles in his body going taut as warmth flooded him. He didn’t know how much he could realistically tell her without sending her screaming from the room in revulsion, though. “Er….what do you mean?”





She glanced away, her frizzy hair obscuring her face. “Did it…involve…like….bondage?” she asked very softly.





“Yeah,” he said quickly, like a bullet into the space between them. How had she guessed?





She whipped her head towards him. “Really? You let her tie you up?” There was no mistaking the flush of excitement in her face. Interesting, Harry noted, suddenly not feeling so awkward anymore.





“Yeah. Several times. I think I like it. Does that make me disturbed?”





He watched her carefully, noting how her eyes went a little glazed. “I don’t think so. Although…a bit surprising because of the way you are. I mean,” she looked as if she were concerned all of a sudden that she’d offended him, “just that you’re a natural leader, Harry, so you giving up power to someone else is very against type. It’s certainly understandable, however, when you think about all of the pressure you’re under. So many people either expecting great things from you or waiting for you to fail, all the hard work you put in, the intense discipline required and the careful control you have to maintain in the way you present yourself…you know, your persona. It’s got to be…a relief, really, when you can just let yourself go and have someone else tell you what to do.” Her face took on that dreamy expression again.





Harry got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t talking about him, anymore.





“You ever feel like that, ‘Mione? Like you want to be tied up and treated like a sex slave? Just mindlessly give another person what they want in bed?” The questions had burst from his mouth before he’d thought better of it, but then he felt horrified that he’d suggested such a thing to his normally proper best friend.





But Hermione’s blush deepened to crimson, her eyes like saucers, while she stuttered through her response. “I—I—couldn’t possibly—well, maybe—I mean—why do you ask?” Her breathing had increased into rapid pants.





“It just seemed like you understood how I was feeling, and I was curious. I didn’t mean any disrespect,” he quickly apologized.





She stared at him for a few beats more before she gave a deep exhale. The tension seemed to drain from her body. “I have thought about it, actually, yes,” she told him calmly.





He arched an eyebrow. “Do you fantasize about it often?” Harry was suddenly very interested in the path of their conversation. Hermione nodded her head, but stayed silent, pressing Harry to want to find out more.





“What kinds of things are you into, then?” He leaned closer to her, observing her face intently for any flash of recognition. Perhaps she was as warped as him.





“Well, I’m not sure, really. I—I’ve read some on the subject. I wonder what it would feel like to be—in a body bind—but, you know, only from the neck down. Has Luna ever done that to you, Harry? While you had to…um, take care of her…orally?” Her demeanor had gone almost mousy in her inquisitiveness.





“Oh, yeah, all the time. I mean, not a body bind, but she’ll restrain me with rope or handcuffs and make me get her off. I love that.” It occurred to him that he’d found a kindred spirit in Hermione and the excitement coursing through him ramped up considerably.





Her eyes went huge once more. “Does it…what is it you like about it? Being restrained and ordered around?” Her voice was barely a whisper.





Harry thought for a moment on how to answer her. “Er, I guess everything you were saying before. I get that, totally. It feels like, the weight is off for a while. And Luna is…was…a safe place for me. I mean, I thought she was. Like, I felt protected in the notion that she wouldn’t take advantage of me in any way, because she was kind, so it gave me the opportunity to try whatever she wanted me to do. Of course, this was before she betrayed my confidence. Before I even found about the gang of Slytherins, she did something really…unethical, and it freaked me out. Um, it kind of freaked out my dorm mates, too,” he mumbled.





“She said something to them?” Hermione was aghast.





“No, that probably wouldn’t have been as bad. It was when Ron gave me the black eye. She sort of….exposed us when she’d snuck into my room one night for a shag. I felt completely—well, I don’t want to say ‘violated’, but—alright, I felt really violated. So, I’m worried she’ll pull something like that again. It has to be…you know…I need to trust her.”





Hermione was nodding her head vigorously. “Right, right, that sense of trust and safety would be paramount in a set-up like that. Otherwise, you’re too vulnerable. I wondered what your fight with Ron was about. That’s unreal. But…while you were feeling protected…what kind of things did you do for her? I mean, aside from servicing the mares.”





Harry couldn’t help a twitch in his top lip as he tried not to smirk. She was really getting into this. He was dead curious about her fantasies now. It was slowly dawning on him that she might even have a few experiences to share, and he tried not to let the idea blow his mind. Ron would freak if he had even an inkling of her fascinations.





“Well…uh, I wore a leash for her. With a collar. Let her drag me around like that. Let her paddle me once. Um,” he hesitated when he thought about a few of Luna’s favorite things. He didn’t really want to confess to Hermione about getting buggered. And there was absolutely no way he could admit to the Polyjuice switch. “She mostly likes to tie me up and then fuck my brains out. I go down on her a lot. She was—a few times—she’d do this spell on my packet to keep me from, uh, blowing my wad.”





Hermione grimaced. “Har—eeeee,” she groaned. He barked a small laugh. Her sense of propriety was an odd thing, sometimes. It seemed off-kilter in light of their discussion, but it was good to know that his friend wasn’t the perfectly prim, uptight girl she liked to purport, that she had a bit of the tart in her.





“What?” he asked innocently. “She liked to control my, er, orgasms, okay? I wasn’t allowed to come until she took off the binding. It made it more…intense.”





“So, then it was mostly her doing things to you, as a punishment. You like to feel…beneath her?”





Harry thought about that for a bit. Luna had never made him feel worthless—quite the opposite, in fact—but, as Daphne had pointed out to him, he did like it when she spoke to him with derogative slurs. It seemed to feed something inside of him, a hunger that he didn’t quite understand. But he didn’t have to, which was why Luna was a good captain.





“Well, I often am beneath her, but I know that’s not what you mean. I wouldn’t quite say that’s the appeal. I can’t really tell you what it is that I like about it in specifics, Hermione. I just know that I react pretty strongly to the things we do.”





“And the other girls? Do you feel the same with them? You like to feel…outnumbered, or something?”





Harry cocked his head. Did that have something to do with it? He had to wonder why he was so easily manipulated into the gang thing to begin with when he usually didn’t enjoy all the attention that was foisted upon him. Was it because it felt like a challenge in that kind of scenario? Was it something about pleasing them or was it solely about his urges? There was a definite compulsion that fueled him when all those bodies were writhing all over him demanding immediate satisfaction.





“I’m not sure, really. I—I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly, but I do like something about being surrounded and, I don’t know, put to the test. I guess I want to see if I can handle it, being put through my paces like that? They weren’t really strict enough without Luna there, though.” He frowned. “That sounds weird, doesn’t it?”





Hermione had a funny look on her face, like she was bewitched, her mouth hanging open in a rather gormless expression. “Um, I think I can sort of understand the psychology of it. The punishments, though, you…enjoyed it when Luna paddled you, then?”





“Well, I hadn’t expected that.” He recalled his punishments as a child under the big, blubbery hand of Vernon Dursley. “It’s not like it was anything new, though, just….didn’t ever think to connect it to sex. Why? What’s your fascination with Luna paddling me?” he needled.





Her eyes bulged again. “Oh, it’s not that I’m fascinated, really, I just thought…well, I mean, I’m supposed to be helping you, isn’t that what you wanted? I’m merely asking questions to ascertain what the proper…er, action your predicament requires,” she finished in exasperation, but Harry was not wholly convinced.





“Look, we’re talking about some bloody embarrassing things here, ‘Mione. I just told you that she chained me up like a dog and that I dug it. If I’m going to confess all of my dirty secrets, I don’t think you have to get all defensive about admitting some of yours. If you like the idea of getting a spanking, then just say so. I’m not going to rat you out or anything.”





Hermione looked agog for another second before she relaxed again. She shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him, pushing her hair back behind her ears with both hands.





“Fine, you win. It’s…intriguing to me, alright? The idea—there’s something I find…erotic…about it. But it feels silly. I suspect the fantasy holds a greater thrill than the actual act. I don’t know how I would react to such a…well, humiliating spectacle of myself in a real setting. Not very becoming, I’d say.”





Harry couldn’t help but find the entire notion of Hermione Granger over someone’s knee terribly amusing, but he tried to keep his features composed. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, “you’re not really thinking about whether you look ‘becoming’ or not in that kind of situation. You sort of just…go with it.” It went silent for a few moments with only the sound of heavy breathing as they stared at each other; Hermione’s tentative dare a gleam in her eye.





“Do…do you want to see what it’s like?” His voice sounded unusually grave to his ears.





Her fluster rose again as a hand waved over her face and she gave a tiny giggle. “I—with who, Harry? I couldn’t possibly do it with just anyone. It would have to be someone I—it’s just rather difficult, isn’t it? I wouldn’t know who to ask.” She looked abashed as she struggled with her excuse.





“Oh, er, I was going to suggest me. I mean, I could show you what it feels like,” he licked his lips nervously, “if you, uh, want, that is.”





It felt like someone had turned on an electric box in the room, the crackling streams of energy quickly filling in the spaces around Harry’s body. Hermione appeared just as affected by the sudden introduction of sexual fulfillment, her eyes darkening while her skin practically glowed with the anticipation. He could detect the tremors in her hands as she ran one through her hair again, his gaze zeroing in on her cleavage as she attempted to discreetly wipe away the sweat collecting there. Harry hadn’t even noticed until now that one of her top buttons had been popped open during their chat, giving him a better view of the space between her breasts. The swell of them pushing out from her bra was enough to get his thoughts racing again. He turned away to break the spell. This was his best friend he was ogling…and offering to spank. Had he gone mad?





“Okay.”





Her tone was surprisingly assured, although when he glanced back at her she was fixedly staring at her knees. He thought about Luna’s attitude with him, how she was quite natural and prepossessing about the whole process, demanding that he get on all fours and offer up his arse to her as routinely as she would discuss the Giant Squid’s breakfast preferences.





“So….you want to get over my lap?” he suggested hesitantly.





Hermione’s head whipped to face him, the mortification plain on her face. “Wot?” she demanded, her voice hollow and a few octaves lower.





“Well, how did you want to do it, then? That seems easiest.” He looked around the made-up design of the room. “Unless you want to summon up a desk or something?” he recommended.





But that seemed to alarm her even more and Harry fumbled for a moment as he attempted to sustain a demeanor of only the mildest nonchalance about the idea. “Did you, er, have any specific requests?”





Her mouth worked soundlessly for a second before she pushed out the words like the verbal equivalent of stones, dropping sonorously into the faint hum of the room.





“Over the knee is good. My clothes stay on, though, and you can only use your hand. I would space each slap out with a good twenty seconds to give me the chance to get used to the sensations and, or, pain, at first, but then you may start to speed up the sequences once it looks like I’m receptive enough. I’ll try to give you a tap on your thigh when I’m ready for a more insistent delivery. If I need you to stop for any reason, I will say the word, Consisto!, and I expect you to cease immediately. Any questions?”





Harry gawked back at his friend, his mind spinning. Instantly, she’d managed to bleed dry any erotic, sexy associations of the act until she’d reduced her instruction to a text book sample. The faint stirrings of his erection withered on the vine.





“Uh, I guess not,” he muttered.





“Alright then. Now, where did you want to sit on the sofa? Should you stay at that end, or would it be better for the overall arc of your swing if you were centered?”





“Uhhh…I suppose the middle is best.” He sighed as he shifted closer to her and settled into the split of the cushions underneath him. Hermione was swiftly unfastening her robe, but then suddenly stood up and cast it over the settee’s back, brushing her hands down her front as she de-wrinkled her blouse and skirt.





Her skin pinked again as she stared at his lap with a mixture of awkwardness and anticipation. “Right, then, I shall, uh, lay prostrate across your legs, Harry, if you’re ready for me. I’m going to grab hold of the armrest and try not to put my full weight on you. Are—are you ready now?”





“Yeah, sure, go right ahead.” He waved his arm over his lap magnanimously. “It’s all yours.” Harry languished against the upholstery and stretched his arms to either side along the couch’s back, tapping his fingers along the top.





Hermione cleared her throat as she glanced around her feet, then putting a foot to her heel she slipped off a shoe. She did the same thing to the other foot before reaching out to grab hold of the sofa’s edge. Her body stayed high above Harry’s as she positioned her legs to the other end, her long socks folded once at the knees, and her stiffness apparent in every muscle. But by the time she began lowering her body down to his in agonizingly slow movements Harry felt a shiver run through his center right down to his groin as he imagined the first press of her abdomen against the tops of his legs. Once the heft of her body set down upon his own, he had to stifle the groan that leapt into his throat. Harry was acutely aware of how close her cunt was to the cock wedged so tight between his thighs, now rapidly filling with blood as his heartbeat began to trot.





“Alright. You can start,” she allowed, her voice husky as she let the last of her tension go so she could sink into him. Hermione couldn’t weigh more than nine stone, but Harry felt every inch of it, although it was not in any way unpleasant.





He reared back his left hand high in the air as he contemplated her bum. Her skirt lay pristine across the rounded curves that he could just barely make out under the loose material. There was a simultaneous urge to pull it up so he could see what lay beneath, yet not wanting to even go there for fear of the repercussions. Then again, he was about to spank Hermione Sodding Granger, his best mate and all-around genius. Spank her, like she was no more than an insufferable swot and he was like…like Severus Snape, the greasiest git of the first order, doling out the punishment she so richly deserved.





His elbow worked like a fulcrum as his arm swung, his palm making contact amplifying in the quiet room like the sound of wet towels being beat against wood.





A gasp and then a jerk over his lap, her pelvic bone smashing against him. Her moan followed and it was like someone had just poured warm cream right over Harry’s head, the sweet trickle of desire flowing over his skin goading him into repeating the slap.





He didn’t really count but it seemed close enough to twenty seconds before he brought his hand down again, this time a bit harder. When she cried out, he smirked. He’d hardly call that painful, but he chastised her all the same.





“Oh, yeah, you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you, Miss Granger? Thought you had everyone fooled, didn’t you?”





She froze on his lap, her fingers white as they gripped the armrest before her. “Wha—whaa—t’dyou mean?” she replied shakily.





“I mean, you’re a proper one, alright. A proper tart, I’d say. You’re just going to have to take your discipline like a good girl should. We can’t have such a degenerate parading around these halls, can we? And we all know how dirty you really are, now.” His grin was wide, knowing she couldn’t see him. This could be quite fun, he suddenly realized. The tables had been turned on his bossy friend, and he was going to make sure he took every minute he’d suffered through her nagging out on her pert bottom.





“Yes,” she groaned, thick with her shame. “I am naughty. I don’t know why I think these thoughts. I ought to be punished severely.”





Bloody hell, he swore in his head, before bringing down his palm to slap jiggling flesh again. Oh, it was quite satisfying seeing the evidence of her arousal as she pushed her crotch into his thigh again with a grunt, her legs splitting open as one fell off the couch and a foot thudded to the floor. She was effectively spreading herself open for him already, and he’d barely begun. Harry wasn’t so sure he would be able to maintain friendly courtesy in this instance.





“Yes, Miss Granger, you hit it right in one. Being severely punished is par for the course in this situation. You have to learn, don’t you? A beating will fix you right up.” Harry cringed briefly when he realized he’d just quoted his wretched uncle, but then Hermione was shifting her bits all over him once more and he pushed the thought from his head.





Her breathing was coming in short pants now. “Oh, Merlin, I do. Teach me, Harry. I want to learn, yes!” Her cry shot to his cock like a Beater’s bat, only with much more favorable results. His smacks came faster, now, disregarding the designated delay as he watched his undone friend start to hump his leg a bit more furiously. He stopped to reach down to the hem of her skirt, his fingers brushing up the backs of her legs as he pulled the material upwards. Hermione’s hands quickly pulled back to grab at his right thigh and knee, tightening her body up as her breath caught.





“What are you—what are you doing?!”





“I can’t serve up a very good sting on your bum when all this fabric is in the way, can I? I thought we agreed that your stripes should be severe, Miss Granger.” He flounced the skirt up over her back, revealing her toned, beautiful arse covered in white cotton knickers. Little rosebuds decorated the expanse of her firm globes, beckoning him in their innocence as he brought down his hand again. “And when you address me, it should be ‘Sir’, understand? This is not about fun and games, Miss Granger. You need to start thinking seriously about what you’ve done. This is for your benefit, not mine.”





“I’m sorry, Sir! You’re absolutely ri—Ow!” His palm burned when he hit her that time, but it didn’t really matter anymore, his arm was already swooping in another arc, the sounds of his hand slapping her soft flesh piquing his fire. No wonder Luna liked to do it to him, this was quite heady stuff, he marveled.





“Of course I’m right! Now, lift that arse and stop!—fidgeting! Are you trying—to get out of this? Because it won’t work—you NEED to be spanked, you little slag.” His carried on his spanking while he berated her, the shocks absorbing all the way up his arm and right into his back, but his attention focused solely on making her writhe on his knees.





Hermione was now holding tightly to his leg underneath her chest, her arms squeezed across each other as she pressed her head to the cushion, angling her bottom on his lap so that he had full access. On instinct, Harry pushed at the inside of her thigh that was draped off the edge and ran his hand back up to her arse by dragging it across the crotch of her panties. They were unmistakably soaked through.





“God, you love this, don’t you?” he muttered, out of breath himself. There was a long moan in reply. “Answer me, young lady, I asked you a question!” He smacked her as hard as he dared; the hardest wallop yet.





“Ah! Yes! I do! Harder, Sir, harder!” She had no qualms, at this point, rocking herself against him as she desperately tried to get off. Harry suddenly grabbed hold of her hip and swerved her on his lap, widening his legs so that she was angled to one side and he could adjust his knee to fit right into her crotch. He put his hand behind her neck and held her down, lifting his leg up enough so that she got the full momentum of his next thwack. Hermione instantly started to hump his knee, her cries rising in pitch.





“Uhnnnnnn!....oh, oh, yes, YES!” came her muffled screams under her blanket of hair. Harry grabbed hold of a knot of her curls and pulled her head back so he could hear every whine at full volume. He smacked her fiercely again, loving the burn that flared through his whole hand while her skin enflamed to the color of his Gryffindor tie.



“Yes, what, Miss Granger?” he demanded, his voice booming to match her shouts.





“Yes, Sir! Yes, please!”





“Do you think you can take more?” He slapped her bottom hard for what had to be the dozenth time, his hand vibrating even though it felt like lead. “You might be the best in the class, but I don’t know if you’re cut out for the rough stuff, Miss Granger. Bet you couldn’t take it bare-arsed,” he snarled at her. Harry felt a little drunk on the power he had over her right at the moment, and a part of his brain was hurriedly trying to determine just how far he could take this.





“I can, I can!” she responded in quick bursts, her arse bouncing up and down rhythmically now while her eyes were shut tight, the back of her head still taut in his grip.





Immediately, he pulled her nearer, ripping her panties down the moment his fingers closed around the waistband, yet leaving them stretched between her shins. There she was—the full glory of her flower right under his touch, all glossy pink petals surrounded by red handprints on white, smooth skin. He’d never imagined in a million years that he would ever see this side of Hermione. He could tell even from this vantage that she was sopping wet for him. He wanted to slide his fingers right into her, but he caught himself first, reigning in his desire by taking a hard gust of air into his lungs and exhaling slowly.





“Who’d have thought it, hmm? Hermione Granger, the trollop of Hogwarts. Your twat is dripping over this you’re so filthy. What am I going to do with you?” He made a t’sking sound with his teeth, before sliding one hand across her burnished rump soothingly.





Hermione hadn’t opened her eyes, but her hips gyrated slowly, her legs visibly shaking. “What…what do you want to do with me?” she asked in a quiet tremor.





Harry’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. Merlin, how should he answer that? For the remotest second he felt suddenly shy at the idea of repeating what was currently shouting in his head. He couldn’t possibly, surely? He stroked her arse again lovingly and watched with the faintest amusement as she raised her bum to fit into his hand like a cat begging a pet from its master.





“I think you need some more swats on your bottom, to ensure you’ve learnt your lesson, you dirty girl, but my hand needs a break and so does my lap. We’re going to move a bit. I need you to stand up.”





There was a stiff moment when she seemed unsure of how to proceed, gripping at the sofa once more, but her head tipped to the side as though she hadn’t comprehended him. He smacked her haunch lightly. “Come on, upsy daisy, you.”





Slowly, she pulled her body up and managed to get on her feet, although she was a bit wobbly, grabbing at his knees as she straightened up. Instead of looking at his face, she kept her eyes to the ground, her skirt dropping back down while her knickers slid to her ankles. Her hair was mussed into a frizzy halo, and she looked as though she’d been out for a run, but Harry took hold of her forearm as he followed her up, quick to tear off his robes and throw them to the floor. His erection was quite pronounced against the seams of his trousers by now, but he didn’t even glance down, his eyes trained on her while he pulled at his necktie. She flashed a frightened look at his hands as he tore the knot free, sliding the tie from under his collar in a long tug.





“It’s sweltering in here. Why don’t you take your top off before I have you back on the sofa?”





Hermione stared at him dumbfounded, standing stock still.





“Hermione, if I’m going to punish you properly, you have to do as I say. It’s common courtesy.” He expected her to shout her safeword at any moment, ending this little party, and part of him prepared for the disappointment, but surprisingly, she began to untuck her blouse from her skirt as he watched in fascination. As her fingers trailed up to her top buttons to pop them from their holes, he mirrored her action on his own shirt, now damp with his perspiration. Hermione held tight to the corners of her blouse for a moment once she’d reached the bottom, but when she locked her eyes to his, he could see a fierce determination shining there. The next second saw her dragging her top over her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor, leaving her in a white bra without any padding, her nipples poking through the almost sheer nylon. Harry licked his lips again, aware that his mouth had gone dry, but turned at the waist to throw his tie on the couch, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and belly. He mentally bolstered himself with silent cheering to carry out his next move as he faced her.





“I’m going to remove your knickers, alright? Might as well get them out of the way,” he said guardedly, still expecting her to call things to an abrupt halt in true Hermione fashion. When she said nothing, he fell to his knees and went for her ankle. She jerked at first when his grip tightened around it, but then she let him lift up her leg so he could pull away the slip of cotton. He followed suit with her other leg and drew the panties away so he could stuff them in his back pocket. He looked up to stare into her face, appreciating his lowly perspective before he reminded himself that he was in charge, not her. He took hold of her waist before his hands were sliding to the back, seeking out the zipper.





“I’m going to take down your skirt and then you’re going to get back on the couch, your chest laying over the top while your knees rest on the seat. I want your arse high and your legs spread. Do you follow?”





At first, she merely nodded her head, blinking once, but then yielded a monotone, “yes”, her throat sounding scratchy. Harry didn’t waste any time in removing the last of her uniform. Once he was kneeling before his practically nude best mate, his eyes glued to her snatch, he had to summon up every bit of will to not fall to the floor on his back and beg her to fuck his mouth. He focused again on the job at hand, moving out of her way as she did as he requested. After she positioned herself correctly, he knelt behind her, the sofa making thick rubbing noises as it took their shared weight. He instantly put the flat of one hand to her spine while the other reached down to pick up his tie, his face intoxicatingly close to her behind. Hermione shifted her knees as she sensed him, looking partly over her shoulder, but when he brushed the tie dangling in his hand across her glistening gash, she jolted with a cry.





“Harry! Wh—what are you doing?” she gasped.





“I’m getting you done up for your last bit of punishment, what do you think? Now, shut it.” He gave her another smack on the side of her arse, enjoying the sound of it, before he reached one hand over her hip to grab the end of the tie from the other side of her. Harry wrapped the fatter part of his school tie once around the width of his knuckles before pulling the material taut between her legs and dragging both sides upward. She gasped again and Harry’s cock jumped in excitement, now quite desperate to be freed. But he continued to pull tighter as he rubbed the strap back and forth along her slit, the back end of his tie pulling into the indentation of the crack of her bum. He pulled up so hard he almost lifted her off the sofa. He felt pretty assured his tie was soaked with her juices by then.





“I want you to open your mouth for a second, but I don’t need any whinging or moaning out of you. You’re quite the screamer, Hermione, didn’t expect that. Let’s see if you can keep it down a bit while I finish working you over, alright?”





Harry leaned against her back as he brought the sullied tie to her face. He had thought about using it as a blindfold on her, at first, but the idea of gagging her was more appealing. This, of course, meant that he’d have to use her necktie, too, for the original purpose he had in mind.



Hermione reared her head back when she realized what he was about to do. “That’s—that’s been down there, Harry, surely you’re not planning on…on,” her hand shot up to take hold of his wrist. Immediately, he smacked her right arse cheek as hard as he could, a sharp cry emitting from his friend’s ruby lips as her pelvis slammed into the sofa back.





“What did you call me again? And you put your hands where I can see them, Miss Granger, behind your back!”





“Sorry,” she groaned weakly in response as she quickly complied with his order. Roughly, Harry slid the necktie into her mouth, ignoring her whines of protest as he tied the ends tightly behind her head, her hair tangling into the knot. It hadn’t passed his notice that she’d spread her legs a bit wider while she jutted her bum closer to him. He pushed her head down so that her front was hanging over the back of the furniture, forcing her bottom to tilt up higher. Might as well indulge her, he decided. Harry smacked her again and hissed at her to “stay” as he slid off the couch to reach for her shirt on the floor, snaking the second tie through her buttoned down collar. As soon as he had it in hand, he got back behind her and proceeded to slip the material around her wrists to make another knot. By the time he was done, Hermione was strangely subdued.





“Well, don’t you look dignified,” he taunted. “You’re making me consider using the strap on you, Miss Granger. Want to make sure we leave a lasting impression, after all, don’t we?”





Hermione went stiff again, her head shooting up as she tried to look over her shoulder at him. “Mmmhmmm! Hrrrhrr!” He thoughtfully reached out to tug the gag out of her mouth, the necktie cinched at her chin. “Harry! You’re—you’re just teasing, right? I—I said just your ha—hand.”





Harry frowned at her back, his eyes rolling heavenward. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he muttered, stepping out of his character for a moment. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” He moved the tie back in place, but she stayed quiet and let him adjust it to fit inside of her teeth. Then a devilish grin swept his face and he took a step back while he wound his arm in a big circle and served it in an underhanded pitch, the hit landing square on her crack.



“Uhhhnnnnnngrrrrdddddssssss!!” she keened, her hair spilling over her head as she let it hang forward.





He quickly brought another blow down again, but this time when he landed in the center of her arse, his hand curved the underside in a tight grip so that one finger could slide into that indentation of mystery and sweat. Her bum jolted upwards at the goosing, giving his finger an easy glide further in. He rubbed at her little aft port of entry a few times, trying not to giggle like a first year at Hermione’s lewd reaction. The noises she was making were positively raunchy.





“You saucy little minx,” his words flowed in an awed susurration, “you really do love this.” It was starting to seem like less of a game the longer he watched her grind into his hand, his intrepid finger finding its way to the opening of her very gloriously slickened cunt. Instead of dipping inside, however, he let the probe on his hand draw languid circles around her slit, brushing ever so slightly atop that pith of nerves peeking out from its hood. Hermione’s response was immediate, arching into his touch with a series of moans in short bursts, like she was trying to send him some sort of message in Morse code. Harry had to wonder if they might translate into Fuck—Me, his cock trying to convince him that this was more than likely so.





In an effort to distract himself, he pulled back his hand to spank her suddenly. The ensuing whimper caused his lip to curl up; she sounded vaguely disappointed.





“Was that not hard enough for you, young lady, or were you expecting something else?” he couldn’t help to ask, his cheek filling him with a giddy sense of mischief. There was no doubt in his mind, at this point, that he was ridiculously eager to fuck the stuffing out of his best friend, what with her gash practically singing him an invitation with every clench of her vaginal muscles. An unbelievably wet invitation, he noted again with drooling enthusiasm. It was like monsoon season down there. She whined against the tie and he pulled it down again so she could speak.





“I—I like it harder, please. Mm, the way you, uh, were doing it a—a moment ago.”







He smirked in glee. Holy shite, this was going to be easy. But as quick as it had come, his grin faded the minute he reminded himself who was at his mercy. He couldn’t just take advantage of the most loyal and devoted friend he’d ever had, she was clearly overcome in her current state. Harry thought hard while his hand hung suspended in air. He had to make sure she really, really wanted the same goal as him, that her desire was completely vocalized and understood. He gave her another burning slap, the peal of it ringing throughout the room, and then rubbed across her cunt again in the softest, most teasing manner he could withstand. Her fevered bounces against his hand certainly gave him an indication of her needs.





“Nice, your arse is as red as the Hogwarts Express, ‘Mione. Feels like your bum is on fire. Should I kiss it better, now?”





There was silence for several beats, Hermione frozen in her pose. He could almost hear the ticking of a clock as he waited for her answer.





“Do you want to?” he heard her ask faintly.





“This isn’t about what I want, Miss Granger. I’m disciplining you for your own good, but I’m not without some mercy.” He stroked her arse with care once more. “Just thought you could use some relief,” he offered.





When he ran his hand up to the small of her back, tickling the bottom of her spine, she shivered violently. He spanned his fingers and coursed them back down to the crevice splitting those groan-inducing globes of flesh, tucking his middle finger far enough in between them that he could spread them wide enough for him to see the whole gamut of her sex. Hermione sucked in her breath sharply.





“I—I could use some relief, Harry,” she confessed, her voice almost child-like it sounded so breathy. Harry’s smile was full of affection right before he slid his finger straight into her warm cunt. The resulting squeal was most delightful, so much so that he was propelled to sit back on his legs and lean his head down to her bottom, his tongue swift to lick along her stripes and eliciting more effusive ohs and dipping moans. The smell of her was powerfully overwhelming, he wanted to delve deeper. Thanks to Luna, this was the one thing that Harry knew he did very well and he felt dead sure that if he employed his secret weapon on her, Hermione would soon be insisting that he fuck her. His cock was downright belligerent now, demanding to be let loose from its prison and then set upon the first dark hole within reach, he had to extract her consent quickly. It could do no harm, surely, to give her a bit of a treat?





Harry took hold of the backs of her thighs in an iron grip, his breath pouring over her arse and exposed twat in great gustfuls. No longer feeling awkward, he burrowed his tongue straight into her inviting cunt. The response was instantaneous and very loud.





“Ohhhhhhhhh, unnnnnnhhh, Gods, GODS!!! Yes! Oh my god, that’s brilliant!”





Harry had barely begun, and yet he wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised had she come in a shot, but while she rutted at his face he slid his hands up to her arse cheeks and pressed them flat, spreading her wider for him to run his tongue up and down her puffed and thudding slit, his destination landing below on her nub as he suckled it tightly in his mouth and listened to her scream.





“Ahh! Ahh!! Ahhhh, I can’t stand it!! Do it to me, Harry, please!! I want to feel it! I’m a bad girl!! I’m a bad girl!!”





Well, that didn’t take long, did it? He gloated in his head, amused again that he’d discovered what a tart his friend truly was. She was as bad as him, he decided, showing one face of strength and decency to the world, but quite the depraved little bugger when no one was looking. He pulled back from her and glanced up at her back, still splaying her open.





“Are you asking me to engage in sexual copulation with you, Miss Granger? We must be very clear about these things. Just what is it you want me to do?”





“I—I want to be free, Sir. I want to be filled. Just like you said, I’m a dirty girl. I’m not proper. You—you should—Harry! I can’t say it!” she cried out.





He curled himself around her back comfortingly, his hand automatically seeking out her breasts, which he then grabbed hold of tenderly, flicking his index fingers over her pointy nipples. “It’s all right, Hermione. There’s no pressure. Do you want me to keep going?” he whispered into her ear. She nodded her head eagerly, but then another distressed gasp left her lips.





“Harry, I’m—I’m not on a potion or anything,” she divulged in a panic. This was expected, though, and Harry acutely understood that his friend really hadn’t done this kind of thing before.





“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” he assuaged, one hand searching blindly on the sofa for where his wand had dropped. Then everything became a blur, he was barely cognizant of casting a Contraception Charm or even getting his shirt off and his trousers down around his knees, his only thoughts refracted to her comfort as he prepared to penetrate her. The same sentence kept blaring in his brain like a banner, You’re about to fuck Hermione Granger, Harry, and he was hard pressed to concentrate on anything else as his dick sidled up to her entrance, the mushroomed head grazing across her flimsy pink sepals as he slowed his breathing in an effort to still his racing heart.





“Breathe out, Hermione, this might sting a bit,” he warned her, although part of him was aware that he’d not really been with any virgins before, he had no idea what it felt like for a girl the first time. But he suddenly felt very protective of her, so when he heard her deep exhale, he pushed in quickly like he was ripping off a bandage, knowing that Hermione would want to jump right in and be done with it. Bracing the both of them by gripping tightly to her hips, he held his breath while he waited for her pained cry to still. He was embraced by such a snug fit, and so hot and slick, he was ready to abandon all reason, but he held fast to his determination and kept himself immobile. As soon as she was settled enough to push back towards him, however, he started to move eagerly, holding on to her as his cock started its rhythmic pace. In a very short amount of time, he was thrusting hard enough to slam her into the sofa back, her whimpers shuddering with the impact.





“Is that better? You want me to fuck you deeper, dirty girl?” he hissed at her lasciviously.





Her moans had gotten so deep he couldn’t tell whether she was still in pain or in a haze of sensation. They were guttural and long, but her hips had started to snap back so her arse could meet with every thrust he gave her.





“Fuck me deeper, fuck me deeper,” she croaked, now completely invested in the moment. It was almost shocking to Harry to witness her this way, although that other part of him still reveled in it. The dual emotions concerning her sudden sexualizing warred within him but he batted them away like they were the canaries Hermione had set upon Ron in an instant of hurt betrayal. The memory stayed with him even while he fucked her greedily, understanding his friend’s recent reticence and haughtiness. In a bizarre way, he felt more connected to her now, like they were bonding in a way that he would never be able to with Ron, or even Luna. Somehow, they were more alike than he’d ever realized, and he was instantly grateful to her as he slid his arms under hers and wrapped them around the outsides of her shoulders, pressing her closer to him while he plumbed her insides as deep as he dared.





Hearing her say the word, fuck, while he rammed her full of cock was liberating. “Tell me how much you love it, slag,” he demanded gruffly, putting himself in her place. It was an odd thing, but he wondered if he could manage to treat her the way he wanted to be treated. He sensed that he couldn’t push her that far, though, and was mindful to watch her reactions carefully.





“Ohhhhhhh, yes. I want to come, Sir, please. I—I love it, I do.”





She was now pushing against him as hard as he was fucking her, and he intuited that neither would last much longer at this rate. A quick and filthy image popped into his head and he reacted instinctively, holding tight to her shoulders as he pulled her back with him in his move to sit down. She cried out.





“Harry! What, what’re you doing?”





“Just follow my lead, ‘Mione,” he grunted, shifting her body as he turned to lean his back against the couch. Her hands were still tied up and so she fell against his chest heavily, having no way to hold herself up, but he gripped her waist again and straightened her so that she sat right atop his dick. He reached down to pull apart her legs and drop them over the side of his own. Immediately, he began thrusting up his pelvis as he fucked her where she sat, delighted by her bounce as her stretchy bra jiggled her breasts just so. Hermione seemed to appreciate the new position.





“Oh, oh, oh,” came her staccato moans in time with her movement. Harry slipped one hand down to the front of her mons, two fingers sliding on either side to delineate her clit. The fingers pinched together and he held it tight within his grip for a moment, feeling the pulse there vibrate right through his body.





“I should spank you right there.”





“Unnnngggghhhh,” she answered, her tits springing up as she leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder.





He smacked her right on her cunt, his fingers wet and sticky from her juices, while the other hand snuck back to her breast on his right side and pinched the nipple there painfully.





“Dirty little slag, you filthy bint. You want to get fucked hard, don’t you? You want me to make you do bad things, isn’t that right?” For he understood, right then, that that was exactly what Hermione craved, what she was begging for. She couldn’t bring herself to be naughty, but she relished the idea of someone ‘forcing’ her to be so sexually wanton. In a way, it was a sort of sexual subterfuge on her part, but he also understood that this was all relatively new for her. He bounced her a little harder and smacked her cunt once more, loving the squelchy sound of it.





“Answer me!” he barked, knowing precisely how she was going to respond.





“Yes! Make me do it! I want to be dirty!” she pitched her yells higher. He had another flash of brilliance and reached out for his wand again, slowing down for just a moment as he touched it to her binds, the tie dropping away with his mutter. Instantly, one of her hands went to take hold of the couch’s back as she added her own momentum to the thrusts, shifting her weight so she could bounce more independently.





“I want you to play with yourself, you nasty thing. Let me see you coat your fingers with your drool and then rub that clit until you scream. You want to get off? Well, then, you’re going to have to put in some work, Miss Granger. I can’t do everything for you.”





He was quite out of breath now, but he continued with his role, knowing that it made a difference. Watching Hermione do exactly as he asked without even a moment’s hesitation was only fueling his climax, feeling the sperm building in his balls as he pulled her back enough so that he was afforded full view of the deed.





“Rub yourself harder while I fuck you, slag. I’m going to fill you up with my seed any second, and I want to hear you moaning, “Yes, sir!”, when you come.”





He had to admire her driving ambition in this instant. She really was giving it her best effort, her hand a blur practically as she furiously ran her glistening fingers over her cunt. She even smacked herself once with a particularly visceral grunt as her bounces increased to a dizzying speed. He was amazed at his own endurance, wondering where the hell he was getting the energy to give her such a ride while his heart rattled in his ribs.





He could feel the tightening of his bollocks, trying to hold on for at least one, Sir!, when he heard her.





“Yes, Sir!! Ahhh, yes! Sir! Yessssss!!!!”





His teeth were clamped together like a steel trap as he came, flooding her insides with a blast of his cum. It felt glorious having the walls of her tunnel convulse on his prick in great shudders. The grip of her cunt was as tight as could be and he moaned along with her, a feeling coming over him that he hadn’t experienced in a long while. Luna’s face suddenly appeared behind his eyes and he held Hermione tight as he recalled some of the more amazing times he’d had with his ex. He resolved to break down his stubbornness and call a truce. As soon as he was done here, he needed to find the dreamy girl and talk to her.





Oh.





He blinked at the sight of Hermione’s bushy curls a mass against the side of his face as she drew breaths dazedly from his shoulder. Both of their chests heaved in their post-bliss exhaustion. As her head turned in his direction, he gulped tightly, now unsure of what was going to happen. It suddenly occurred to him that this could all go horribly wrong.





Hermione smiled. “Well! That was quite exciting, wasn’t it?”





Harry beamed back. Yes, Hermione had been the perfect choice to talk to.







Next up: Well, you probably have a clue....