"Okay, so you understand the plan?" Hermione asked him for the third time.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, mum. I won't screw it up. I'm more worried about you screwing it up."
"Why?"
"Because you're being heavy-handed with this. Ron's going to see through it. We've got to pretend we had nothing to do with it."
"I suppose."
"Let me do the talking. I'll direct things toward quidditch or Snape if things get awkward."
'Operation Get Ron a Girlfriend' was in full-swing, and had been for the last week. Today was the first Hogsmeade visit in six weeks, and they had arranged for a Hufflepuff named Tamsin Applebee to spend some time with them and Ron. The plan was to meet up at The Three Broomsticks with Cedric, Cho, Ron, and Tamsin. The rest was up to fate.
Tamsin was a bright-eyed third-year who loved quidditch. She had almost made the Hufflepuff team this year, and was primed to be a starting chaser next year. Cedric considered her his best reserve player. She had barely known who Ron was last week, but Cedric and Cho had been supplying the girl with hints that he might be interested in her.
It was false, of course, as Ron had no idea that Tamsin existed. But with Harry and Hermione selling him on the idea that there was a cute, quidditch-loving girl who was curious about him, he had consented to at least meeting her. They hoped it wouldn't turn out to be a disaster. Cedric had reluctantly agreed to do them a favor, and didn't want to cause any distress to one of his fellow Puffs.
If Ron and Tamsin could find some common ground, or perhaps more, it would provide Harry and Hermione with a break from his desire to constantly be by their side. They considered it a risk worth taking. It might just save their friendship with him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
So far, so good, Harry mused. Ron hadn't bolted from the table, and hadn't yet made an ass out of himself. But he hadn't exactly made a good impression either. He had barely said anything at all. Whether he was nervous or grumpy, it was difficult to say.
All six of them sat in a huge booth at The Three Broomsticks, sharing butterbeers and trying to make casual conversation. Cedric had attended because he wanted to make sure Tamsin was comfortable. So far, he and Harry had done most of the talking. There was clearly a growing friendship between the two champions, and Ron was less than pleased with it.
"I just hope we find out something soon," Cedric said, taking a sip of his drink. "We knew the second task would be underwater early on. This one is a total mystery."
"I hope so too. I don't want to have to learn some new skill two days beforehand."
"I'm sure you'll do fine," Cho put in with a wink. "You've got Ced tutoring you."
He pretended to glare at her. The two boys were on equal footing in most areas, despite the older champion's advanced theoretical knowledge. But Cho liked to tease both Harry and Hermione that they finally had a competent instructor to show them the ropes.
"Looking forward to the match with Slytherin?" Cedric asked him.
"You bet. We're going to stomp them. I just wish I had been there to stomp you."
He laughed. "I don't know. It would have been close. Do you think we would have still taken Gryffindor, Tamsin?"
The brown-haired girl glanced at Harry. She had been pretty quiet so far, listening to the older students talk. "Er, no offense, Potter, but I think Cedric would have beaten you to the snitch."
"None taken, and call me Harry. It's just a shame we'll never get to find out."
She nodded a bit shyly. She was a small girl, thin and wiry with a cute face and huge brown eyes. Harry thought she might grow up to be quite beautiful, in a pixie sort of way.
Ron had been sneaking little glances at her for the past few minutes and finally addressed her.
"So you, er, like quidditch?"
"I do," she said with a smile. "My dad played for Tutshill when he was younger, but I favor Puddlemere. I'm hoping to play for Hufflepuff next year."
Ron made a face. "Puddlemere? They're a bunch of toffs! They wouldn't be anything without all that Baskerville money behind them."
Tamsin went a little red. "That's nonsense! Brixton is the best seeker in the league!"
"Not compared with Elliott. He played in the World Cup!"
"And got trounced by Krum," she said smugly. "Have you met him, by the way? I'm afraid to ask for his autograph."
"Er, no, I haven't."
"He's pretty nice," Harry said. "He looks surly sometimes, but he just doesn't like to be approached by strangers. I could arrange for you both to meet him if you want. He likes other quidditch players."
Ron looked like he swallowed a lemon but nodded. Tamsin smiled.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Their little 'group date' at the Three Broomsticks finally ended. It had gone neither exceptionally well nor poorly. After the second round of butterbeers, Ron and Tamsin had argued about the relative merits of Puddlemere and Chudley, as she couldn't fathom why he liked such a perennially awful team. Harry had to intervene a couple times to make sure he stayed polite. Still, Ron had grown more comfortable with her, and spoken to her as if she were Seamus or another of his mates. It was a start.
Everyone went their separate ways afterwards. Hermione was meeting Lavender and Parvati for reasons that were unclear even to her. Cedric and Cho were meeting some of her friends in Ravenclaw. Tamsin went to find her Hufflepuff roommates, while Harry and Ron did some shopping.
"I don't know about that girl, mate," Ron said as they strolled along the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. As May approached, the weather had grown much warmer, and the whole village seemed to be outside. "Are you sure she likes me?"
"That's what I heard. She's cute, isn't she? And she likes quidditch."
"Well, she's a Puff," he muttered. "And a third year."
"Ron, there's nothing wrong with Hufflepuffs. Cedric is a Puff. And she's only six months younger than you."
"Yeah, well, he's a Hogwarts champion."
"And she's going to be a quidditch player. Would you rather date someone who had nothing in common with you?"
"Who said anything about dating?"
Harry winced. "I'm just saying, if you played your cards right, you might have a chance with her."
"Yeah, but she likes Puddlemere. And she's kinda skinny."
For Merlin's sake, he almost groaned aloud. Was he this hopeless before he joined the Pride?
"But you liked arguing about it, didn't you? Maybe you could spend some time with her. See if you enjoy her company. That's the most important part. Ced said she's interested in you, though I have no idea why. Maybe she likes gingers with awful taste in quidditch teams."
"Fuck off. But what would we do?"
"I don't know. Maybe you could ask her to play chess in the library. Or just meet to talk about quidditch. Or—"
Harry stopped, struck by inspiration.
"Or," he repeated, "you could go flying with her. I know you don't have your own broom, but you could borrow mine."
"You'd let me borrow your firebolt?"
"Well, after the Slytherin match, I would. As long as you take good care of it. She might want to ride it too."
Ron's stubborn refusal to accept charity warred with his desire to have free reign over a firebolt. Harry could only guess whether Tamsin figured into the equation.
"You could even practice together," he added. "She's a chaser, and you're a keeper. She could toss quaffles at you in the hoops."
Ron nodded slowly and he thought he might have him onboard.
Harry clapped him on the back. "Now, let's go find Dobby some socks. He loves bright colors, like yellow and purple. Any idea where the Headmaster shops?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione looked around the little curio shop where Lavender and Parvati had dragged her. It was dusty and smelled of old people, and was indeed managed by an elderly crone. Her wares were mostly decorations that one might find in a dowager's home.
"Okay, you've got me here," she whispered to Parvati. "Why do I need to see this place?"
Parvati picked up a little ceramic kitten that purred when it was touched. "What? You don't want to put this in the dorm?"
"I'm not a crazy cat lady just yet. What's really going on?"
Lavender grabbed her hand. "Always too clever for your own good. Come here."
The pair led her to the back of the store, where a doorway was covered by several layers of hanging beads. They pushed them aside and pulled Hermione into the back room.
Her mouth fell open when she took in the scene. It looked completely out of place in the old shop. The walls were painted garish colors, and there were huge colorful shelves and blinking displays.
Every space was occupied by an endless variety of sex toys.
More than a dozen girls from Hogwarts were browsing the wares, holding them up and giggling with each other.
"What in—what is this place?"
Lavender laughed. "Look at her face, Parv! And here I thought it was no longer possible to shock you. This is the best store in Hogsmeade—for girls, at least. Madam Desdemona caters to everyone's needs."
Hermione walked with them through the aisles and stared in disbelief at the obscene displays. Boxes upon boxes of various toys sat on the shelves. Display models were available to be handled. Some were standard dildos; others looked terrifying, like they couldn't possibly be used for sex.
"Angelina told us she blew your mind the other day. You don't own a toy yet, do you?" Lavender inquired curiously.
"Er, no. Why do I need one?"
"Pfft. Are you serious?"
Hermione looked around, ensuring that they weren't within earshot of anyone. "I get the real thing in the Pride whenever I want, and there are already toys there."
"The toys there are public property, and ewww," said Parvati.
"And there's not always someone there to satisfy your needs," Lavender added. "You can use these in the privacy of your bed."
"And last but not least, for the summer, you dolt. Do you really want to go without for so long?"
"I could just use my fingers?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Hermione blinked as Lavender thrust a box at her. "This should definitely be in your collection. It's essential. Oh, and this one too—it expands to whatever girth you want."
"She needs the one that feels like a real tongue."
"Definitely! Where's the little octopus with the all the arms?"
"Oh, Merlin," she whispered as the girls began to fill her hands with boxes. She was getting strange looks from a few of the older students who were browsing.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry strode toward his and Tracey's old classroom, careful to keep his cloak wrapped around him. He had been looking forward to this all week. Her proposal that he meet with Daphne Greengrass—with a contract involved—did more than pique his interest. Tracey hadn't revealed much, but he was almost certain he knew what was about to happen.
Despite her beauty, he wasn't desperate to sleep with Greengrass. He had his pick of beautiful girls in the Pride, and frankly, was already having more sex than he could handle. More than anything, he wanted to see her face when she asked him to sleep with her. He wanted to see that proud, cold composure show a trace of vulnerability.
Somehow, he couldn't imagine her propositioning someone, assuming that's what she was after. He must have really impressed Tracey if Daphne was willing to condescend to a Gryffindor.
He opened the door to find both girls waiting on him. The awkwardness in the air was palpable. Tracey was far more subdued than usual. Her expression made it clear that she was there to support Daphne, not him.
"Hello, ladies."
"Potter," Daphne murmured. Tracey just smiled.
"So, I'm here. Tracey hinted at a proposal that I might be interested in. She was unwilling to give me details."
Daphne looked at her friend questioningly.
Tracey rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Not even a Gryffindor is that dumb. You know exactly why you're here."
"Yes, but I want to hear Daphne say it."
"Why do you persist in calling me 'Daphne' without my permission?"
"Because you secretly like it? And I like tweaking your pretentious pureblood sensibilities?"
She bristled at his flippant answer. "I refuse absolutely to call you 'Harry.'"
"That's fine. But I bet I can make you change your mind."
Daphne's cheeks colored and she pulled a parchment from within her robes. She handed it to him. "I have a detailed contract for you to sign."
His eyebrows rose as he read it. It was much more detailed and constricting than the contract he had signed for the Pride. There were clauses and sub-clauses, limiting what he could do and say, and even when he could speak to her in public, which was never. If he didn't know better, he'd think an attorney had written the thing. It read like a business proposal.
He put it down on a desk and observed Daphne curiously. "You can't be serious."
"What do you mean?"
He gestured at the parchment, deciding on the spot that he wasn't going to sign it. "That is maybe the weirdest thing I've ever read. Insulting even. I'm not going to sign it."
"Harry," Tracey said, a little shocked at his bluntness.
Daphne deflated and looked at her. "I told you this was a terrible idea."
"Sorry, I'm not trying to be rude," he said. "I just don't understand the formality of all this. Can I speak to Daphne alone please, Tracey?"
Daphne's face settled into her usual mask. She glanced at her friend. "Go ahead. I'll be fine."
"I'll, er, be right outside," she said, giving him a fierce look on her way out.
The silence lingered when they were alone. Daphne's chin was raised proudly, but she didn't quite look him in the eye.
"Thank you for making this the most humiliating moment of my life, Potter."
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" he asked. If anything, he felt humiliated by the terms of her contract.
She didn't answer, which only confused him more.
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, let's start again, because this has already gotten weird. Forget the contract for a second. Why do you want to do this? With me, I mean."
"I thought that was rather obvious. Tracey convinced me it was a good idea."
"So you don't really want to be here."
"I didn't say that."
"You're not saying anything. All you did was hand me some parchment. Put aside the Slytherin double-speak and let's just clear the air."
"I'm not certain what you mean."
He fought not to roll his eyes. "I mean I want you to say what you mean—directly—instead of dancing around everything."
"There's no cause to be rude."
"I'm not trying to insult you, honestly. But look—we both know why we're here. We both know you're interested in sleeping with me. Or hooking up. Whatever. I think I understand why, but I want you to explain it to me."
Daphne blushed fiercely, as if he had demanded that she disrobe on the spot. "I—I thought Tracey had explained to you my situation in Slytherin. She assured me you would be understanding."
"She did. So you picked me because I'm not in your house, and I'm not going to hold this over you?"
"Something like that."
"And yet you won't trust me unless I sign that ridiculous contract."
Her eyes flashed with anger. "The contract is for my protection, Potter. I want guarantees. I will not risk my future on the word of a Gryffindor who might turn on me whenever he pleases."
He rubbed his scar in frustration. Lately it was aching all the time. "Your house sucks," he said flatly. "Great big dragon balls. If dragons even have balls. But if they do, your house sucks them."
"How dare you!"
"Do you know why I showed up for this meeting?"
"Why?" she asked, struggling to regain her composure.
"Because I want to see you take your mask off. You always look at me like I'm a bug that should be squashed. I've never actually met Daphne Greengrass, have I? That's more interesting to me than sleeping with you, even though I'm happy to do that too. But I don't want a business transaction. That's what that contract is."
Her pale white skin flushed again. "Did you just call me a whore?"
"What? No! That contract is calling me one! I'm saying that I don't want this to be weird. Isn't this about two people having fun together? You have to be able to trust me for that."
"I don't trust anyone," she said. "That's the point of the contract."
"Now that's just sad," he said, as gently as possible. He wasn't trying to provoke her, but something about her attitude made him almost angry.
"Tracey told me what it's like for you in Slytherin. Always on your guard. But you can't go your whole life being afraid, Daphne. If we sleep together, I want it to be fun for both of us. Otherwise we'll just be trading orgasms, and you might as well just use a toy for that."
She glared at him, clearly furious or hurt, her chest heaving.
"So you refuse to sign the contract."
"I do."
She studied his face for a long moment and finally looked away. "Then I'm afraid we're done here," she said in a strangled voice. She sounded both indignant and on the verge of tears.
"I'm sorry if I've offended you. You're beautiful, and I'd really like to know the Daphne who gossips with Tracey. But I'm not some peasant who should be thrilled that a queen is condescending to talk to him. You have to be able to trust me."
"This was a mistake. You don't understand the risks for me. I hope I can trust you to keep your mouth shut about this conversation."
"You can. I promise. And you know where to find me if you change your mind."
She inclined her head, picked up the contract, and walked out with as much dignity as she could muster.
He sighed to the empty room. "That went well."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was a week after the trip to Hogsmeade. Hermione sat in her four-poster surrounded by books. The dorm room was empty and quiet, which was a welcome relief from the noise of the common room. Even the library was tense these days, as hordes of fifth and seventh years camped out there in last-ditch efforts to cram for the upcoming wizarding exams. Sometimes it was easier to study in one's own bed.
Harry was with Fleur Delacour tonight, and she knew they definitely weren't studying. Lavender and Parvati were likely in the Pride. Her other roommates, Sally-Anne Perks and Fay Dunbar, were elsewhere with their friends. Though they all slept in the same dorms, she rarely socialized with the two girls outside them.
Her tranquility was interrupted by a giggling Lavender and Parvati. They staggered through the doorway, holding each other up.
"Hermione!" Parvati yelled.
She didn't have time to answer before they both hopped on her bed, scattering books and parchment everywhere.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Rescuing you from boredom!" Lavender said, sitting down directly on an arithmancy textbook. "Why aren't you in the Pride?"
She looked them both over. They were a bit disheveled and grinning like madwomen. She could smell the alcohol on the breath.
"I'm busy studying, thank you very much, because it's 8:30 on a Thursday."
"Oh, pish posh," Parvati said, and took the quill directly from her hand. "We don't have anything due tomorrow. Stewart has elf-made lotus wine downstairs. The seventh years are celebrating some exam from Flitwick being done. You want some wine?"
"No, thank you. I'm content to have a quiet night in."
"You suck," Lavender said, and tossed the book she had been sitting on to the floor. "Let's do something fun instead."
Hermione sighed and clamped down on her instinct to yell at her over her treatment of books. Becoming friends with her roommates also meant that they felt free to pester her whenever it caught their fancy. Which was more and more frequently of late.
"I don't want to go to the Pride tonight."
"Then let's do something here," Lavender pressed. "We're bored. Have you used your new toy yet?"
"No."
Despite their badgering, she had consented to buy only one dildo from what she now thought of as Ye Olde Sex Toy Shoppe: a medium-sized vibrator without many frills. She had no desire to own a box full of strange devices, not when it was more satisfying to have fun with another person.
"Why not?"
"Because there are perfectly good cocks attached to Harry and Dean and George and whoever else I might want."
"Pfft," Lavender said. "There are some things a real cock just can't do." She looked at Parvati with a tipsy grin. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"A girls' night in? We've never had one with Hermione."
"Won't you just let me read, for Merlin's sake?"
"Nope. I think we should make you lose your mind. You hold her down, Parv. I'll be right back."
Parvati giggled and grabbed her arm.
Hermione huffed. "I'm not going anywhere."
She watched Lavender rummage through the chest at the foot of her bed. She still had hopes of talking her way out of the presence of her intoxicated roommates, but it was looking more and more hopeless.
Lavender returned with an armful of toys. She dumped them unceremoniously onto the bed. "Let's play."
"Oh, honestly. We're in the dorms, not the Pride. We'll get caught."
"That's what bedcurtains and silencing charms are for," said Parvati. "You never caught us."
"Come on, Hermy. Put all this crap away for a while," Lavender implored her with a pout.
"Don't call me Hermy."
She wiped away a fake tear. "I knew it. She hates us, Parv. She'd rather read than be with her friends."
Hermione sighed and made a mental note to stay away from elf-made lotus wine. "Fine. I'll cooperate for thirty minutes. Then I'm going back to arithmancy."
Parvati cheered. "Yes! Which one should we use on her?"
Lavender examined the pile as Hermione removed the books and parchment from her bed in an orderly manner. "Hmmm. Maybe the doughboy? That's always fun."
"Only when you use it with something else—ooh, the gravedigger! I forgot about that one!"
"Do these things seriously have names?"
"Well, we name them, at least."
Parvati held up a blue dildo that had spiraled ridges built into its entire length. It looked like a huge drill bit. "This is the gravedigger. Watch this."
She touched a button on the bottom and it came alive. The ridges extended another quarter inch and began moving in spirals up and down its length. Hermione's stomach quivered just looking at it.
"You can't imagine how that feels," Parvati said with a huge smile, mesmerized by its movements.
"I bet I can," she murmured, her curiosity overcoming her irritation. It certainly looked like it could do interesting things to her, even if she wasn't in a hurry to repeat her experience with Harry and Angelina.
"Lay down. We're going to make you squeal."
She reluctantly did so, and Parvati reached beneath her skirt and yanked off her panties without bothering to let her undress.
"Hey!"
"Shhh! Just close your eyes and let us take care of you. You're going to love this."
Parvati flipped up her skirt, exposing her pussy to the open air. And to the rest of the room, had anyone else been present.
"Close the curtains at least! Merlin!"
Lavender giggled and pulled the bedcurtains closed. "Good call. Almost forgot the silencing charms too."
She completed them with a lazy wave of her wand and saw that Parvati was already preparing to go to work on her, as if she were a patient on an operating table.
"I want to do it!"
"No way. You can do me later. I want to make her curse like Seamus."
"I'll get her wet then," Lavender said, rubbing her finger gently along Hermione's clit while Parvati waited in the wings with the spiraling dildo they called 'gravedigger.'
Hermione sighed at her touch. It was pleasant, but the whole situation felt bizarre. The girls apparently still thought of her as a pet project. She was growing increasingly unnerved by the grin on Parvati's face.
"You need to shave, girl," Lavender said.
"Thank you for your input," she replied, trying to relax as she brought her to arousal.
"Okay, she's wet enough. Put it in. You have to turn it off first."
"Oh, right."
Parvati turned off the spiraling dildo and teased Hermione's clit with it, lubricating it with the moisture from her lips. Satisfied, she slipped the head in gently and pushed forward. It wasn't particularly thick, even with its ridges. Lavender lay down next to her and scooted up next to her face.
"I want to see your face when it activates."
Her stomach quivered in anticipation as Parvati slid most of the dildo inside her.
"Okay. Game time," she said, and pushed the button.
The dildo began moving of its own accord inside her. Its ridges extended, pressing firmly against her walls, and the spiraling motions made her gasp in surprise.
"Oh, sweet Jesus."
Parvati began gently pushing and pulling on the dildo, so that every millimeter of Hermione's walls was massaged by the moving spirals. Her abs contracted so hard that she almost found it difficult to breathe. She became aware of every nerve deep in her pussy. The dildo gripped and released her soft flesh in a constant sinuous motion, and it took a mere moment for her to grow wetter than she'd ever been in her life.
"Oh—fuck me," she moaned, and clamped her eyes shut. She could feel Lavender's grinning face next to hers.
"That's the idea," Parvati giggled, and pushed it inside her as deep as it would go.
Hermione whimpered. It felt like someone had sent a live wire through her body. The sensations were just too much. The toy was even more stimulating than the dildo Angelina had used on her. It was relentless, like an alien intelligence in her body, intent on overloading her nervous system. It grew larger within her, and she could feel it pressing against her belly from the inside.
Lavender reached between her legs to touch her clit, and she almost slammed her legs shut. She already felt on the verge of orgasm, or even like she had been experiencing little ones since the cursed thing had been turned on.
"T-too much," she moaned.
Lavender ignored her and pressed down hard on her clit. An orgasm tore through her like a flood, soaking the toy and making her legs shake uncontrollably. The bed shook under the force of her climax. When she was finished, she could barely speak.
"Off. Turn it off!"
Parvati did so, and gently extracted it from her. Her face split into a huge smile.
"How was it?"
She took deep breaths and stared up at the ceiling. "That should be an illegal torture device. Merlin."
"You're crazy. Tell me that wasn't the most intense orgasm of your life."
"That wasn't an orgasm. I was too out of my mind to enjoy it. It was more like a seizure."
"You'll get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it. I'd rather have a real one."
The experience confirmed her opinion that a real cock attached to a real person was more satisfying than a toy. Giving and receiving pleasure from another person—being their object of desire—was most of the fun.
"Whatever. I'm next," Lavender said, and flopped onto her back, forcing her to move out of the way. "I want the doughboy."
She pulled down her knickers eagerly and flipped up her skirt. Parvati laughed and picked up something that Hermione would never have guessed to be a sex toy. It looked like a thick wand, with an attachment on the end that she could barely describe—something like an amorphous blob of rubbery dough.
"Watch this," Parvati said, and turned it on.
The 'dough' began undulating, especially in the center, as if there were invisible creatures inside attempting to escape. The creatures pushed and prodded in every direction, extending the dough an inch or so, before reconvening in another spot.
"What on earth does that do?"
"You put it right on your clit. It's charmed to feel like a really firm tongue. But it doesn't hit you all in one spot. It shifts around unpredictably and teases you."
"It massages your whole clit," Lavender added.
"It seems too large for that."
"No, your whole clit," she said. "What we can see is only the tip. It actually includes your lips and mound and whole pubic area. Everything gets teased by this baby. It's best if you have something inside you too though."
"Ah," Hermione said uncertainly, wondering if she needed a refresher course on her own anatomy.
"Just watch."
Lavender spread her legs wide. She had shaved herself bare, and her pink lips already shined with arousal. Parvati got into position between her legs, and placed the doughboy against her clit. It began massaging all around and above it, covering her mound. From the side, it looked like some strange creature was trying to devour her pussy whole.
"Oh, Merlin, that feels good."
"Give her a helping finger or two, Hermione," Parvati said, twisting and turning the toy to cover every possible angle.
She made room for her, and Hermione leaned down between Lavender's spread legs. She gently inserted a finger, then two, between her lips. She was already soaking wet.
"Mmm, that's the stuff. Go deep."
She reached as far as she could and stroked, inducing a shudder. Lavender was amazingly soft inside, perhaps more so than any girl she'd played with. Her walls gave way easily at her caresses.
"More."
Both girls obeyed her, Parvati digging the doughboy into her with force, and Hermione slipping a third finger inside her and twisting. Lavender's silky walls gripped and released her fingers at every caress, as if she were already having little contractions.
She began moaning and writhing in the bed, turning her head from side to side on the pillow. "Oh, Merlin. More. Please!"
Hermione was getting turned on again. Lavender sounded like she was in ecstasy. She hesitantly slipped a fourth finger into her and reached past her knuckles. She had small hands, but even so she was stretching her lips very wide. It was difficult to stroke her with all four fingers, and she didn't want to hurt her. But Lavender grew even wetter and was clearly in no pain. She moaned and begged for more.
"Oh, God, all of it. Give me all of it!"
Parvati giggled and looked at Hermione. "You heard her. She can handle it."
"You mean…"
"Yep. I promise it'll fit."
"Merlin."
Hermione folded her thumb into her palm and pushed forward. Her hand got half way in when Lavender started mumbling incoherently and thrusting her hips into the doughboy. "Do it!"
She twisted her hand gently and inched forward. Lavender was so wet that she encountered much less resistance than she expected. With wide eyes, she watched as her hand slipped in all the way to the wrist. Yet she still hadn't bottomed out within her.
"Oh, fucking fuck," the beautiful blonde girl whimpered, her hips still humping the doughboy.
A little shocked at what she was doing, but curious at how much she could take, Hermione pushed forward until her pussy had swallowed even a couple inches of her wrist. She could barely move, but twisted her forearm, watching in awe as Lavender's gaping lips stretched and then stretched some more to accommodate her. She was so incredibly hot inside.
"Wow," she whispered.
Her own arousal was profound now. She didn't think there was any way a hand could fit inside her own pussy, but seeing her roommate in such a state made her belly ache with need.
"Here it comes," Parvati said eagerly. "She's about to explode."
Lavender cried out a few seconds later. She spasmed around Hermione's hand and wrist, her contractions squeezing them intensely. Sticky wetness engulfed her. Parvati giggled as her best friend cursed and made deranged noises, testing the power of the silencing charm.
When she was finally sated, her hips fell to the bed.
"Okay, that—that's enough," she babbled, her chest heaving. Parvati pulled the doughboy away from her and turned it off.
Lavender sighed deeply, not caring that Hermione's hand was still trapped deep within her.
She was just about to remove it when there was a cough in the room. It hadn't come from within the bed. Parvati and Hermione looked at each other with alarm but didn't have time to react.
Both girls stared in horror as the bedcurtains slowly parted, revealing the curious face of Fay Dunbar.
"Hermione? Are you in here? Someone said—"
She stopped short, and her mouth fell open as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes went wide as she noticed all the sex toys. They only got wider as she realized that Hermione's hand was shoved in Lavender's pussy past her wrist.
Fay blinked repeatedly. "I—I'll just…er…"
"This isn't what it looks like!" Hermione blurted out.
Fay just nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from Lavender's spread legs. "Er, Ron Weasley is downstairs looking for you, in case you wanted to know."
"Th-thanks."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry whistled contentedly as he made his way back to Gryffindor tower. His latest tryst with Fleur had been fun, if a bit combative. She enjoyed trying to overwhelm him, baiting him with her allure until it felt like a wrestling match of wills. He could usually resist her power now, much to her irritation. It still overwhelmed him if he was distracted, or if she were in the heat of passion, but he didn't think of that as a bad thing. It was intensely pleasurable, and Voldemort himself would probably be knocked silly in the presence of a veela having an orgasm.
Tonight's session had ended with him holding her wrists behind her back as he slowly fucked her. She'd tried to force him to go faster, but he'd stubbornly held on and won. She'd won too, he supposed, given the noises she'd made.
He stepped onto the stairs that led to the sixth floor when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. His training with Cedric was making him more sensitive to spellcasting, and he instinctively dove to the floor as two stunning spells flew over his head. His wand was in his hand a moment later, but he saw no attackers.
"Terebro!" he shouted in the direction the spells had come from.
A shield flared ten feet away, but it failed to absorb Harry's bludgeoner and collapsed. There was a loud smack as it impacted against someone. A groaning boy flickered into view, lying on his back and holding his ribs.
Harry didn't have time to spare him a second look. Another pair of spells hurtled at him out of thin air, forcing him to shield.
He retaliated with four rapid fire curses in a row. Bludgeoning, piercing, tripping, and disarming hexes flew from his wand. The first two were blocked, but the last two landed. A figure swore and became visible as he fell to the floor. His wand flew into Harry's hand.
He stood above them for a moment to catch his breath. He had reacted instinctively to a surprise attack, and had wiped the floor with his attackers. It made him feel proud of his progress. It also made him incredibly angry. This was the first time someone had dared to attack him in the halls.
They were Slytherins, but he barely recognized them. Probably seventh years. One boy had blonde hair and was glaring at him; the other had dark hair, and was still lying on his back and cradling his ribs.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Harry demanded.
"Fuck you, Potter. Give me my wand," the blonde one said.
"I'll give it back to you in pieces. Why did you attack me?"
"We didn't attack anyone. You randomly started casting spells at us. Let's go see who Snape believes."
He flicked his wand and the boy was suddenly wrapped in tight cords. He tried to speak but Harry silenced him.
"Let's ask your friend. Got anything to tell me?" he asked, looming over the other boy.
"N-no," he gasped, now holding his ribs with both hands.
Harry decided he needed answers, and damn the consequences. With Voldemort out there somewhere and a deadly tournament to contend with, he had no patience for random Slytherin attacks. He kicked the boy in the ribs.
He cried out in pain, and Harry pulled him forward by his tie. "Listen to me," he said, looking directly into his eyes. "The last person who attacked me got his head cut off. It's probably still at the bottom of the lake. If you don't talk, I'll do worse than break your ribs. Why did you attack me?"
The Slytherin boy stared at him fearfully, trying to determine how serious he was. Harry didn't intend to truly hurt him, but this asshole didn't need to know that. He pressed his wand hard into the boy's crotch.
"You've got three seconds until you discover what a bludgeoner can do to your balls."
"M-Malfoy," he said hurriedly. "He paid us."
"Why?"
"To injure you before the match, I think. I don't know! Just don't fucking hurt me."
Harry released him and took a deep breath, trying to control his rage. He felt his scar prickle. Fucking Malfoy. He was in the midst of a struggle for his life, and the boy was willing to take cheap shots over a quidditch match. Or maybe they weren't so cheap. Who knows what these idiots would have done to him?
He considered what to do. His attackers weren't on the quidditch team, so they couldn't get kicked off of it. He could potentially get them into trouble, but they hadn't landed a spell on him. Snape would give them detention at worst, and Dumbledore would probably just frown at them. There's no way they would punish Malfoy without proof, and he was unlikely to get more of a confession from them.
Still, it wouldn't do to let people think they could just attack him with no consequences. He decided to leave one of them bound on the stairs while he tracked down Professor McGonagall. At least she might be outraged on his behalf.
"Go get your ribs fixed," he said to the downed boy. "Tell Pomfrey you got in a fight with a troll, for all I care. Then tell Malfoy he's a spineless piece of shit. I'll deal with him later. But you two—if you ever cast a spell at me again, I'll put you in St. Mungo's or worse. Do you understand?"
"Yes," the black-haired boy said. The blonde one glared, still silenced by Harry's spell, but nodded.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione closed her eyes, hoping she could relax enough to go to sleep. Between the attack on Harry and the disaster with Fay, it had been one hell of a week. The Slytherins who assaulted him had been given a month's worth of detention, to be supervised by Snape. That was barely a punishment, given that they would probably spend their time revising for NEWTs. Malfoy, of course, had gotten away scot free.
She and Harry had decided not to walk the castle alone for the remainder of the term. Too many people had motives to hurt them, even if their dueling skills were rapidly improving.
Fay's discovery of her illicit activities still plagued her mind too. For a few days, she had feared the worst—that she would wake up one morning and find the entire school mocking her.
They hadn't been able to find Fay immediately after 'the incident,' as she thought of it. For two terrible hours, they had all worried that she was in a Professor's office, or worse, telling everyone she knew the most scandalous story heard in many a year. As thrilling as it was to indulge her fantasies in the Pride, getting caught in flagrante fisto in the dorms was something else.
Hermione had finally tracked her down in the library. What followed had been the most awkward and embarrassing conversation of her life. She couldn't even remember what she said now. Pleading words had come tumbling out randomly. She vaguely remembered offering her hush money. Whatever she'd said, it seemed to have worked.
An equally mortified Fay had agreed to keep her mouth shut.
She'd grown careless with her reputation, taking it for granted that she was protected by the contracts governing the Pride. But they hadn't been in the Pride. Her anger with Parvati and Lavender had been ferocious, even though she too was to blame.
It didn't help that Harry found the whole situation hilarious. She had sheepishly explained it to him, and almost hexed him when he wouldn't stop laughing. He reassured her that it was probably fine, and that she was overreacting again. That she could, in fact, just deny it if any strange tales ever came to light. Ludicrous rumors made their way through Hogwarts all the time.
Part of her knew the situation was silly, perhaps even funny, but her obsessive mind had been unable to let it go. She'd approached Fay again tonight, just to further ensure her silence. The rebuke she'd received was still ringing in her ears. Fay had told her to bugger off, and informed her in no uncertain terms that she wasn't a tattletale, had already known that Lavender and Parvati 'played together,' and was merely shocked to see something like that happening in Hermione's bed. Most crushingly, she'd told her that she wouldn't have been worried at all if she had bothered to get to know her over the last four years.
Now Hermione lay in bed, feeling both reassured and humiliated.
Maybe next year she could cultivate a friendship with the girl. Perhaps even invite her to the Pride if she proved suitable. That would make her more likely to keep the secret.
She sighed and rolled over, trying to put it out of her mind. She had more important things to worry about. Exams were just around the corner, and the third task was less than a month away. She needed to have her wits about her for Harry's sake.