A Summer Night

A Summer Night

Harry clung to Dumbledore as they apparated and Harry, again, felt as if he was being squeezed tightly. Then, suddenly, they were outside the Burrow—the Weasley’s humble home. They walked up to the door together and Dumbledore knocked. After some rustles from inside that sounded like clashes of metal, a shaky voice answered, “Who’s there? Declare yourself!”

“It’s Dumbledore and Harry,” Dumbledore pronounced. The door opened immediately.

“Oh Harry, it’s so good to see you! Sorry about that, professor, you can’t be too safe these days! Now Harry, you look hungry as always. Do you want some soup?” Mrs. Weasley said almost hurriedly.

“Um… Yeah, sure! I’d love some!” He said eagerly. Mrs. Weasley murmured a spell at a pot and the smell of potato soup soon hit everyone’s nose.

“Thank you for taking care of Harry, Molly,” Dumbledore said, “now, I really must be leaving.”

“But don’t you want to stay for soup?”

“No, I don’t think I have enough time. Thank you, though,” and with that he went out the door and disappeared into the night. The two stared blankly at the door for a second before Molly said,

“So Harry, you know Hermione’s here, too.”

“Ohf, freally?” Harry said through a mouthful of soup. “Fat’s freight!” Just then, Mr. Weasley came in.

“Harry my boy! How have you been!” He said, and bent down to give him a big hug.

“Very good that I’m here now, thanks.”

“Harry, I think it’s time for you to get to bed, honey.” Mrs. Weasley said. Mr. Weasley looked a little annoyed, but as Harry finished his soup and gave the biggest, loudest yawn, he decided not to argue. “You’ll be sleeping in Fred and George’s room with Ron and Hermione, dear.”

“Where are they?” Harry asked, confused.

“Oh, ever since they got their own shop in Diagon Ally, they’ve been sleeping there. It seems so dangerous to me, but you know how stubborn they are.” She said forlornly.

“Okay,” Harry said, and then started up the stairs. He opened the large, smoke-stained door that belonged to Fred and George and went inside. There was already a sleeping bag laid out for him and everything. He stripped down to his boxers and then climbed in.

He could hear Ron muttering in his sleep, and Hermione’s whistle as she inhaled. They were both asleep, and Harry suddenly had an idea. He had always fantasized about what it would be like to see Ron naked—well, he had seen Ron naked many times, but he’d never actually touched his…thing. Harry had always wanted to, though. To feel what it was like on another guy. And then Hermione, well…Of course he wanted her. Ever since she hit puberty in third year, he couldn’t stop looking at her. He wanted to touch her. So he got out of his sleeping bag. On either side were Hermione and Ron, and so he turned to his left side first and unzipped Ron’s sleeping bag, touching his freckled arm all the way down until it stopped and his leg began. The zipper all the way down, he rolled over and unzipped Hermione’s bag. He was surprised to see she was only wearing a bra and her panties—nothing else. Weren’t bras uncomfortable anyway? He thought. She must have been desperate for pajamas. He slowly placed his hand on Hermione’s stomach to see what her reaction would be. If she woke up, he couldn’t do this. Luckily though, she didn’t even move. Her skin was soft and warm, radiating heat into Harry’s hand. He moved it up to her breasts where he unclipped her bra and felt a breast. It was so nice! It was small, but large for her age and it felt so good. With his free hand Harry reached down to touch himself. His dick in hand, he began stroking it slowly with caressing Hermione’s breasts. As he got hard, his hand trailed down her stomach to her panties, where he felt the elastic and eased one finger under, then another and another until his whole hand was in her panties. This area was warmest of all, and softest, and he moved his hand farther down. He felt her hairs against his hand and almost got in trouble by laughing because it tickled. Luckily, no one heard him. Her felt her warm pussy and rubbed it. He wanted to taste it, because it was so hot and soft, but he wanted to touch Ron, too, so he rolled over.

In the little light Harry’s eyes had adjusted to, he could make out Ron’s thin profile from the side. He touched his arm and brought his hand to his mouth, licking the still fingers. They tasted a little salty, and he liked it, he decided. He then moved his free hand farther over—he had to scoot a little—and moved it up to his pecs, where he felt his muscles and tweaked his nipples. They were hard. Then he moved his hand down his stomach like he had done with Hermione and again felt the scary restraint of elastic. He carefully pushed his hand under it, and loved the feel of his velvety skin under his soft touch. He played with his pubes before reaching down further. He touched a familiar object, at least familiar when it came to having one, too. His penis was soft and as he felt the entire body, realized he was circumcised. He liked that. Uncut penises were kind of strange to Harry—he didn’t have one, at least. Ron’s penis was half-hard, feeling to him kind of like cartilage. He worked it forward and backward, stopped from going up and down because of the strange angle and the unwillingness of the boxers to disappear. He felt his balls and suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted his mouth on Ron’s cock, and Hermione’s pussy.

Harry reluctantly took his hand from his throbbing dick and reached down to pull down both Ron's and Hermione’s boxers and panties. He then turned back to Hermione and slid down to her warm crotch where he nuzzled his face in her pubes, before heading farther down. He touched her one more time and then began to lick and nuzzle Hermione’s pussy. Then he started pushing his tongue into her and back out, and continued doing this until he heard Hermione moan. He stopped right there and froze, completely sure he was caught and he would become known as the boy who molested his friends in their sleep. She didn’t wake up, though. Afraid that any more stimulation would make her orgasm and would certainly wake her, he moved over to Ron. Ron’s cock was long and tasted…orange. It was hard to explain, but it had something to do with his hair and freckles. It was soft and felt very strange in mouth opposed to in his hand. Ron was completely hard, now, and Harry drew circles around the head. It was like he was actually trying to get caught by making them have an orgasm, and maybe somewhere deep down, he wanted to get caught. He continued sucking and with his free hand jerked himself regularly—or as regular as someone can get when sucking someone off. He could tell Ron was tensing up but kept sucking and jerking, both Ron’s and his own cock. Harry was getting rigid, too, and started rubbing his penis against Ron’s leg. Suddenly Harry’s mouth was full of salty, gooey liquid that was accompanied by his own come all over Ron’s leg. As he finished, stroking the last bits of come out, he cleaned Ron’s cock and leg clean, pulled his boxers up and zipped his bag back up. Then he rolled over and chanced a few last gropes of Hermione before putting her bra back on, pulling up her panties (he made sure to touch plenty of her pussy) and zipped the sleeping bag up. Then, finally, he climbed into his own bag with a yawn, and went to sleep.