Harry had magically expanded the shower so that he, Hermione, and Luna could clean themselves at the same time (this time, the cleaning would be done with soap as opposed to the tongue bath that Luna had just given Hermione). Luna hopped into the shower without hesitation, ready and eager for the group cleaning. Hermione, on the other hand, was overly timid to shower with two people. Such an intimate action scared her (yes, even though Harry had just shagged her silly with Luna, promptly slurping her pussy out, showering with them was an intimidating concept). She hid this fear by taking a practical approach to diffuse the situation by saying, "I've never showered with anyone else, so I think I'd be pants at it. You two go ahead, and I'll clean up after you're finished."
"It's not Advanced Transfiguration, Hermione," Luna said, dismissing her argument. "We'll simply lather one another."
Before Hermione could protest further, Harry took hold of her wrist and pulled her into the running (and occupied) shower.
A few minutes later, Hermione asked a question. "When you said that we'd lather one another, I had thought that you would clean something in addition to my breasts?"
"I just want them to be clean," Harry said as he continued to work the suds into Hermione's orbs.
"You've been washing them for five minutes; they're clean," she returned. "In fact, they are quite possibly the cleanest they've ever been."
"Fine then," Harry said, and promptly began to rub and caress Hermione's bottom.
"Luna, just because Harry stopped 'cleaning' my breasts doesn't mean you have to take over," the brunette pointed out as the blonde began to squash and squeeze Hermione's large boobs together.
"I'm just inspecting the job Harry did," Luna explained. "Besides, my tits are small; I've never gotten a chance to play with big ones before."
Luna gave them another squeeze and giggled. "I think they just squeaked. Your titties are squeaking!"
"Yes, that means they're clean," the brunette said dryly.
"Harry, listen to this," Luna said, and began to move her hands over Hermione's breasts rapidly, squeezing, rubbing, and pressing them together. "I can make music with Hermione's tits!'
"That's fantastic," cheered Harry. "Let me see if I can copy you with her bottom."
While the wizard and the blonde witch attempted to create a symphony with various parts of her body, Hermione looked up and asked silently what she had gotten herself into. She focused on her indignation to hold off the growing sense of arousal that she got from her partners' manipulations.
-Line Break-
Lucius counted the recently earned stack of gold on his desk. After Bulstrode paid to have his daughter deflowered, Thomas Davis brought Tracey over for the same "service," bringing Lucius another ten galleons. Then Ephraim Greengrass showed up a half hour later with both of his daughters, Daphne and Astoria, which netted Malfoy thirty galleons (Lucius took the standard ten for Daphne, but had argued that since Astoria was two years younger than Draco, he was running the risk of being prosecuted for molestation. The blond Death Eater negotiated an extra ten galleons above the standard fee for the younger girl to have her maidenhood taken.)
"Father, I'm very tired," Draco complained as he stumbled up to Lucius with only a bed sheet wrapped around him.
"Draco, you insolent whelp, I would've killed to have bedded five witches in one day when I was your age," Lucius scolded, quickly hiding the gold in the desk's drawer (there was no reason for Draco to know about the money).
"Six, Father," the boy corrected.
"Is it?"
"Yes, that nasty whore and my five housemates," Draco stated.
"That's right, I had forgotten about the whore."
"I wish I could," Draco shivered in disgust at the memory of that saggy-titted, wrinkly, foul-smelling witch bouncing up and down on him.
"Draco, the whore was not up to par, I admit," Lucius said soothingly. "But you've had five young, nubile witches to erase any unpleasant memories away."
"Millicent didn't help," Draco frowned as the memory of the mannish witch riding him (much like how a gorilla who had, for some unknown reason, decided to crush a gourd by slamming its buttocks on the target repeatedly).
"You've done a noble thing today, Draco," Lucius said proudly. "You've saved those five girls from becoming potential sacrifices," (and earned his father some gold). "Here," he paused and handed a single galleon to Draco as a reward, "you've earned it."
"Thank you, Father," Draco said. "May I go to sleep now? I'm so very tired."
Lucius gave Draco his permission. The elder Malfoy counted his money once again once his son trudged up the stairs. Taking away the two galleons he paid the whore and the one he gave Draco, with the gold he got from his fellow Death Eaters, Lucius was fifty-seven galleons richer.
A frantic knocking on the door stopped him. Lucius opened the door, and Miles Pritchard stormed in.
"Sorry for the intrusion, Malfoy, but I'm desperate," Pritchard said. "I'm in deep trouble."
"What is it, friend?" Lucius asked with a happy smile. His happiness came from the fact that Pritchard had four daughters, each as ugly as the day was long. He was fairly certain why Pritchard was there.
"My girls, they're the only thing I have left in this world," he said with a tear in his eye. "I can't bear to lose them as sacrifices to the Dark Lord."
"Not all four, Miles. The rumor is that our Master needs virgins; surely some of your daughters have known the touch of a man?"
"Come off it, Malfoy, you've seen them," Pritchard said with sad disappointment. "Their faces could stop a Time Turner."
"That may be true," (which it was: the eldest daughter, Violet, was brought into the Department of Mysteries to test this statement and had actually stopped a Time Turner from working just by looking at it), "but how is this predicament my concern?"
"Your boy's young and virile," Pritchard said with a smile.
"One hundred galleons."
"You've got it," Pritchard said and shook Lucius' hand. "My girls are just outside. Let me bring them in."
As Pritchard retrieved his daughters, Lucius called out, "Draco, I'm sorry to say you can't take that rest just yet!" He almost chuckled at the whimpering noise that came from Draco's room.
-Line Break-
"Mrs. Weasley, I decided to once again reexamine the injuries to your son. It turns out to have been a good thing: in addition to the concussion, fractures, and bruising, I discovered some untreated damage," Healer Phelps said in a hushed tone to Molly. "It appears that your son was hit with a Pusillus Virilitas Jinx. But, mysteriously, when I performed the counterjinx, nothing happened."
"Excuse me, but what is the Pusillus Virilitas Jinx?" Molly asked gently.
"Oh, dear, how to explain," Phelps said while his ears turned a bright pink. "Err, it's understandable that you don't know about it; the Pusillus Virilitas Jinx isn't something that is discussed in public. It's a fairly nasty spell that turns... well... it shrinks… um, well, a certain part of someone."
"I'm not following. Could you be more specific, please?" Molly asked.
"Ah, a certain… male part of the… er… male anatomy," the Healer said in embarrassment (he had firsthand knowledge of just how nasty the jinx was: he was hit with it in his sixth year at Hogwarts while he was in a cupboard with Phyllis Towley – it took him a full year before he could convince another witch that his stature was caused by the temporary effects of the Pusillus Virilitas Jinx and not nature).
"Oh, that," Molly said. She looked around to make sure no one was nearby before whispering to Phelps, "Poor Ronald didn't inherit his father's 'wedding tackle' if you catch my drift."
"Do you mean that this... well, tiny size is his natural state?" he asked in disbelief.
"It's a perfectly normal condition that happens fairly often. The Muggles have a funny name for the condition," Molly replied softly. "They call it micro something-or-another."
"That poor bloke," Phelps said compassionately.
Molly's eyes glazed over as she began to reminisce. "I remember when the midwife held him up, and I saw him for the first time. I thought that I had finally gotten a baby girl. His name was 'Bridget Muriel Weasley' for a full hour before I changed his nappy for the first time.
"But I don't worry," Molly continued with a hopeful lilt to her voice. "I live in the belief that there's a witch somewhere out there for him, in spite of his little setback. After all, even though he's a tad small in one aspect, my boy compensates by having a big heart" (well, her "hopeful lilt" turned out to be more delusional, but even a more stable mother would tend to pad the truth when it comes to her children).
"Now, if you don't mind, I have a meeting I have to attend," Molly said, and she walked away from Phelps. "I'll leave my Ginny here, in case something happens."
-Line Break-
Harry answered the door to his flat with nothing but a fluffy towel and a bright smile.
"Madam Malkin, thank you for coming," Harry greeted, ushering the robe seller into the flat. "Sorry, you caught us just out of the shower."
"All three of you?" the plump witch asked as she noticed Hermione and Luna, both of whom had a towel tucked under their arms and wrapped around their bodies.
"We're conserving water," offered Harry.
"Well, that must have been an exciting way to do it," Malkin said with a mirthful chuckle. "Now, how about you get some trousers on and I'll get your measurements."
"I feel that one can get more accurate measurements if the person is nude, don't you?" Harry asked.
"My, I haven't had a young man offer to be naked in front of me in a long time," Malkin said while blushing.
"Then let's remedy that," Harry said, throwing off his towel with a flourish.
With her eyes fixed on Harry's (far from small) bits, Malkin's head slowly, ever so slowly, began to tilt to the left. Inch by inch, her head tipped until it was resting on her left shoulder. With a happy chirp in her voice, Malkin commented, "It looks like I'll have to use my largest measuring tape today."
As Malkin measured Harry (paying close attention to his groin, "I just want to get my numbers right. I don't want your trousers to be too binding, after all"), Luna asked Hermione in a whisper so that only the brunette could hear; "It's rather bothersome what Harry said about Fudge, isn't it?"
"That's not the half of it. While you were asleep-" began Hermione.
"Unconscious, not asleep," corrected Luna.
"He confirmed my suspicion that he's from an alternate universe."
"I had a hunch that was it."
"And he said that he's not going to help us bring our Harry back because he's going to take over this world," Hermione concluded.
At this point, Madam Malkin was "confirming" her numbers in regards to Harry's genitals and the surrounding areas for a third time. "It doesn't hurt to be thorough."
"You mentioned something about bringing our Harry back; do you have any theories as to how to do that?" asked Luna.
"Oh, my, it's growing," Malkin said with a breathy sigh.
"It does have a tendency to do that," Harry said.
"I'll just have to re-measure from the base... I mean from the sack... err, start."
"I don't know," Hermione answered Luna's question. "I can do some research. But the little I know theorizes that there has to be an infinite number of realities out there. Finding the one our Harry was sent to, even if we had this Harry's help, would be exceedingly difficult if not impossible."
"Can I ask you a personal question?" Luna asked.
Hermione was about to respond, "Well, you just lapped up my pussy like a thirsty puppy and then spent another five minutes fondling my boobs in the shower, so I don't see why you shouldn't ask a personal question," but thought better of it. "Go ahead," the brunette said.
"Why are you still here?" she asked. "This Harry is violent and aggressive, he claims to have just killed the Minister, and he is talking about ruling the world. Why don't you leave?"
"I believe he is boasting, if not lying," the brunette witch stated. "He's elaborating at the very least, I assume."
"But Hermione, it's been my experience that people boast or lie because they feel insecure or inadequate," Luna countered. "Do you think this Harry lacks enough confidence to boast about false deeds or unrealized desires?"
Hermione pondered over this for a moment. Though she didn't like to think about it, Luna was right, Harry had confidence; a big, hot, throbbing confidence.
"I think you're sticking around for the same two reasons that I am. You and I are hoping that we can guide him away from his evil tendencies," the blonde speculated. "The second reason is that the sex is fantastic, of course."
"I'm not that shallow," protested Hermione. She had agreed with the first part of Luna's speculation, but not the second (well, the sex was beyond wonderful, but Hermione was telling herself that she didn't need it).
"Oh, please, Hermione, I was there watching you two go at it," Luna countered. "There was nothing shallow about it. It was deep and penetrating."
"When I said shallow, I wasn't referring to physical depth," Hermione said while rolling her eyes.
"I know. I just wanted to reiterate my conclusion about the fantastic sex."
"Well, he's all done," Malkin said. Beads of sweat had blossomed all over her face. "Who's next?"
"Hermione is," Harry said, and walked up to Hermione. He reached for her, and Hermione assumed that he was going to guide her to Malkin. But instead, Harry tugged her towel off.
"HARRY!" screeched Hermione, and she tried to cover up her naked bits with her hands.
"You're going to be measured nude, just like I was," Harry said and tossed the towel over his shoulder. "Now get over there!" he commanded and gave her round bottom a swat.
"You lot don't mind showing off, do you?" Malkin said, eyeing Hermione from her head to her feet.
"You'll have to forgive Harry, he's been under a lot of stress," Hermione tried to make up an excuse while still hiding behind her hands.
"Dearie, your breasts are too big to try and cover up with your hands," Malkin said with another cheery chuckle. "Besides, if I had your figure, I'd show it off."
"Really?" asked Hermione bashfully.
"Oh, definitely, an hourglass figure like that," Malkin said with a nod of approval. She looked over at Luna and added, "Not that there's anything wrong with small breasts and a lithe figure."
"Thank you," Luna said genuinely with a blush gracing her cheeks.
"All right then, dearie, lower your hands so I can get your measurements," the older witch asked Hermione.
The brunette sighed in resignation and lowered her hands. Malkin's eyes grew wide in surprise at the sight of Hermione's naked form (particularly her chest).
"My goodness, they are certainly clean, aren't they?" said Malkin. "I can see my reflection."
"Wait till you see her bum," said Harry. "It's downright shiny."
"If you like, Harry and I can hum the tune we came up with while we washed Hermione's bottom and titties," offered Luna.
"It's always nice to have a little music while one works," Malkin said cheerfully.
-Line Break-
In the dining room of Grimmauld Place, Albus Dumbledore sat at the head of the table with all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix surrounding him.
"Thank you all for coming," the ancient wizard began.
"Albus, I don't understand why you've called us here," Remus said anxiously. "We should be out looking for Harry."
"Yeah," Bill Weasley added. "We've got to find him so we can prove he didn't kill Fudge."
"Harry did murder Cornelius," Dumbledore said with his ever-present twinkle in his eyes.
The Order members drew a startled gasp at Dumbledore's declaration, all save for one.
"Oh, bugger, I know that look," Moody moaned. "The old bastard's going to start speaking in riddles again."
"Yes, Harry was the murderer," Dumbledore continued, eyes twinkling like mad. "But then again, Harry is not the killer."
"You old codger, must you always do this?" Moody demanded. "Every bloody time it's 'It is, but it isn't' crap. It's never direct with you."
A few of the Order members tried to work out the Headmaster's riddle, including Tonks, Arthur, and Remus. The members soon knitted their brows in confusion. Dumbledore giggled.
"I'll give you a galleon if you just speak plainly. Please," Moody pleaded.
"Harry, our good young lad, is innocent. However, Harry, that naughty lad, is guilty," Dumbledore added, and his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
"God, I hate you," Moody grumbled as he put his face in his hands.
"Albus, please speak clearly," begged Minerva McGonagall. "Time is of the essence."
"You really don't want to try and figure it out," the Headmaster tittered. "It's such fun!"
"Headmaster, Minerva is right," Snape spoke up. "We are wasting valuable time."
"Fine, spoil my fun," Dumbledore said, and his lips pouted while his eyes continued to sparkle. "Lord Voldemort attempted a ritual last night. If the ritual had been performed correctly, it would've called forth his duplicate from another reality to help him conquer this reality. However, one key ingredient was off; the ritual called for a virgin's blood to draw a pentagram. The blood that was used was not from a virgin. And instead of calling forth his duplicate, it should've, I believe, swapped the two Voldemorts; the one from this reality would go to the other, and the one from the other reality would've come to this one."
"I liked it more when he spoke in riddles," Bill bemoaned.
"What the devil does this have to do with Harry?" Molly demanded.
"I believe that the reality Voldemort chose to call to did not have his duplicate. Either his double had died sometime in the past or was never even born," Dumbledore explained, clearly dazzled by his own brilliance. "Since the ritual was performed, and a virgin's blood was not used, thereby tainting the ritual, it had to swap someone from that reality with someone from this reality. We now have this predicament."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Remus asked his peers.
"Does he need medication?" one Order member asked. "My grandmother got like this before she croaked. She had some kind of potion that helped to keep her lucid."
"So you're saying that since the ritual couldn't find You Know Who's double, it searched for another person to swap," Tonks summarized.
"How the hell did you get all that from what he said?" asked Moody.
"I don't know how," replied Tonks. "But my head really hurts now."
"But what does this have to do with Harry?" Molly repeated her question.
"I cannot go into detail, but Harry is connected to Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said.
"You mean because Voldemort tried to kill Harry when he was a baby?" Remus asked.
Dumbledore chose not to answer.
"So, since Harry is connected in some way to You Know Who, this ritual nabbed the Harry from the other reality and swapped him for our Harry," Tonks summarized again. "Ow, my headache's getting worse."
"Essentially, yes," Dumbledore answered.
"And now that other Harry is here, and he's the one who killed Fudge for some reason?" Moody asked.
"Yes," the old wizard answered.
"Then all we have to do is find this foreign Harry from the other reality and bring him in," Moody said.
"Yes, but it is clear that this Harry doesn't value life as our Harry does," Dumbledore warned. "He has murdered an unarmed wizard in cold blood. Therefore, we must approach him with caution."
"Wait, what about our Harry?" Remus asked. "We have to get him back."
"It would be immoral and also improbable, if not impossible, to do that," Dumbledore countered. "First, we would have to murder someone as a human sacrifice. Then we would use his or her virgin blood to draw the necessary pentagram for the ritual. Finally, we would have to randomly select one reality out of the potentially millions in hopes of finding the single reality that currently hosts our Harry. Needless to say, if we selected the wrong reality and didn't get our Harry, we would have to murder another human being and try the ritual again. It is conceivable that we could perform the ritual over a hundred million times, while killing just as many people, and still not get our Harry back."
"What if there's another way that doesn't need a human sacrifice?" offered Remus, who was clearly trying to find a way to rescue Harry. "And what if we could narrow the search down somehow and find what reality Harry's in?"
"Even if there was another way, it would still be nearly impossible to locate our Harry," Dumbledore said with the merry twinkle in his eyes still present. "There is a reality for every possible decision and every possible outcome. Think of it, there is an alternate world where I had coffee this morning instead of tea; everything else in that world is the same except for that one, insignificant detail. There could be another world where I don't like lemon drops, as hard as that is to believe. An extreme example would be a world where the human race possibly evolved from plant life. Could you imagine that we'd all be talking flowers? I hope that I would be a daisy," the old man chuckled merrily (this talk about plants got Dumbledore thinking about Sprout and how he'd have her "prune" his "hedges" later). "Or a world where you, Remus, were in love with Nymphadora, quickly married, had a child, only to both die pointlessly within minutes of each other, leaving the newborn an orphan."
"Uh… that would be strange," Remus said, clearly taken aback by the unlikely pairing of him and the young Auror in the outlandish (or, as some might call it, "unbelievable") theoretical life that Dumbledore had whipped up for them.
"So you're suggesting that we just leave our poor Harry stranded on another world?" Molly questioned, clearly concerned for the boy (or her plans for her daughter with the Boy Who Lived).
"Please understand, Harry is a very capable young man," Dumbledore said. "I am certain that he can overcome whatever obstacles he might face.
"But for now, we must focus on finding the Harry now in our world. He is clearly a threat, and we must treat him as such," Dumbledore continued, his twinkle gone. "What we know, thanks to young Miss Weasley, is that he took Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger. Arthur and Minerva go to Miss Granger's parents and see if she has returned home. If not, ask her parents if they know of her location or if they can contact us if she returns. Alastor and Kingsley do the same for Miss Lovegood's home. The rest of us will search Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and even Knockturn Alley for any signs or clues."
-Line Break-
Ginny sat next to Ron's bed, waiting for the dolt to wake up. She was charged with watching over her brother so that the rest of the family could go to an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. The redhead witch was rightfully upset; she was being forced to look after her brother (who was sleeping like a baby thanks to all the healing potions that had been shoved down his throat) when she should be out there, looking for her one true love and rescuing him from Hermione (the slut).
As Ron snored like a troll in a cave, Ginny daydreamed about saving Harry from the bushy-haired temptress. In the little scenario that played in Ginny's head, she imagined stumbling upon a room where Harry was about to crawl into bed with Hermione (the slut).
"No, Harry, don't defile yourself with that hussy!" Ginny cried out passionately.
"Get out of here, Ginny," Hermione (the slut) snarled like a mad banshee. "I cannot allow you to tempt Harry with your long, shimmering, bouncing, copper hair!"
"Even though my hair is more than enough to get his heart, it isn't the only thing I can win him with. Just look at these!" Ginny declared proudly, popping her blouse open to reveal her gloriously perky double D's (in the real world and not "daydreamland", Ginny had modest B's, and furthermore, to describe them as perky would be charitable. And in this little dream, Hermione – who was the one who had perky double D's in the real world – was so flat that a training bra would slip off her chest. To make herself feel even more superior to the slag, Ginny altered daydream-Hermione's breasts so that they went beyond being small and became slightly concaved, leaving two small pink nubs in a set of little valleys.)
"Oh, you are so amazing. Why didn't I notice your radiant beauty and your stellar breasts before, my perfect Ginny?" Harry asked himself. With tears of joy welling up in his eyes, Ginny's black-haired Prince Charming uttered an emotion-fueled "I-I think I'm in love with you, Ginny, my copper-haired Goddess."
As Harry bounded to Ginny in slow motion, Hermione (the slut) snatched her wand. Snarling (with a bit of foam dribbling out of her mouth like a deranged lunatic that she was) the frizzy haired brunette cursed; "Damn you Ginny, with you splendiferous breasts and your long, shimmering, bouncing, copper hair, you've shown Harry that I'm not worthy to even kiss his feet!" the concaved chested witch leveled her wand at Ginny and threatened; "For that, you will pay!"
But before Hermione (the slut) could cast her curse, Ginny elegantly pirouetted like a skilled ballerina around Harry (who was still bounding to Ginny in slow motion) and, with her long, shimmering hair dancing behind her, Ginny cast her dreaded Bat Boogy Hex!
"Insipidius Spellius!!!" Ginny called out, and her righteous voice echoed off the walls.
With a loud bang, green snot-dripping bats appeared and snatched Hermione (the slut) by the shoulders. As they carried the hussy out of the room, the defeated, concave-chested witch screeched: "Damn you, Ginny! Damn your perfection!"
"Oh, Ginny, my love, my life, my heart's desire, the future mother of my scores of green-eyed babies, will you ever forgive me for not noticing your beauty, your awe-inspiring long, shimmering, bouncing, copper hair, and your immense magical ability, my precious jewel?" Harry pleaded with cute puppy dog eyes.
Ginny was about to respond yes and kiss him. But then, she recalled how she felt when, in real life, Harry had grabbed her about the shoulders and insulted her before tossing her aside. And she remembered how incredibly good (read: hot and wet) it made her feel. So, Ginny tweaked with her daydream to incorporate that sensation.
Daydream Harry wrapped his hands around her shoulders, and with his steel-like fingers digging into her soft, milky white flesh, her Prince Charming said through clenched teeth, "I'm going to throw you on that bed, you whelp, spread your legs wide, you insolent dog, and plow my manhood into your core, you sniveling snot nosed Pembroke Welsh Corgi."
Ginny's heart fluttered. With the happy daydream (full of foul name-calling, rough nipple pinches, and clit slapping) still running through her head, Ginny got up from her chair next to Ron's bed and made her way to the loo. The daydream had been so intense, she just had to take care of her urge.
As his sister went to go finger herself in a public loo, Ron dreamt. He dreamed that he was on a hill with his enemies' lifeless bodies strewn across the battlefield. Voldemort's crumpled and broken corpse lay at Ron's feet while the most feared wizard's decapitated head dangled from the red head's clutched fist, gore and blood dripping from its severed neck.
"We owe you a great debt, Ron," Dumbledore said, suddenly appearing next to Ron. "Our misguided faith in Harry, the supposed 'Boy Who Lived,' was wrong. We should've trusted you in ridding the world of the scary and nasty Voldemort from the beginning."
"Yes, in celebration of your effortless defeat of the scary You Know Who, the Wizengamot has just passed two new laws," Fudge said, as he too appeared on the other side of Ron. "The first law has knighted you, granting you the new title of Ron the Magnificent, Defeater of Evil, and All Around Stud – but Ron the Magnificent for short. The other new law will allow you, Ron the Magnificent, Defeater of Evil, and All Around Stud, to marry any witches of your choosing."
Suddenly, in between the corpses of Death Eaters, hundreds of beautiful witches appeared, cheering, "Pick me!" "I'm a great cook," and "I swallow!" trying to get Ron the Magnificent's attention. However, their pleas and offers of spontaneous anal sex and snowballing (of which there were at least a dozen) did not matter to Ron the Magnificent, for he had already made up his mind.
"Hermione and Luna, my soon-to-be wives, come forth," Ron the Magnificent called out over the mass of pleading witches. As his future wives walked out of the crowd, the other hundreds of witches sighed in defeat.
Hermione and Luna flung themselves at Ron the Magnificent's feet (which meant they had to lie on Voldemort's broken body and knock Fudge and Dumbledore to the side). The blonde wrapped her arms around Ron the Magnificent's muscular leg and kissed his knee adoringly. While the brunette dropped all pretenses and reached up under his leopard skin loincloth and took hold of his massive, bulging manhood.
"Oh, Ron, my manly-macho-masculine-master, you grace Luna and I with your decision," Hermione said as if she was in worship, with tears of happiness in her eyes.
"We're not worthy to be your wives," Luna said and ran her tongue up his thigh.
"Let Luna and I show our appreciation by making love in front of you," Hermione offered. "You can watch us lick each other until we scream your name!"
"Then you can pound us with your epic willy," added Luna.
In the waking world, Ron came in his bed before dream-Luna and dream-Hermione even kissed.
-Line Break-
After both Hermione and Luna were measured, Harry spoke with Malkin about the types of clothes he wanted, while the two younger witches dressed in the bedroom.
"Have you seen my bra?" asked Hermione as she looked under the bed for the missing garment.
"I think Harry tossed it out the window," Luna answered.
"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked. She had remembered Harry removing her bra, but she had been so focused on the other things (i.e., her throbbing wet bits and his monument) that she couldn't recall anything else.
"He said that it was in the way," explained Luna.
"So he chucked it out the window?"
"Apparently, he was so angry with your bra for being in the way that he decided to punish it, I suppose," the blonde offered.
Harry (who was still quite naked and had no apparent intention of covering up) joined Hermione and Luna in the bedroom.
"Tell me about this Voldemort and his followers," he commanded. "Who they are, what they've done, and the like."
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Hermione asked. She half hoped that he was going to answer yes because she was becoming rather distracted. The other half of her was very happy being distracted and wanted him to answer in the negative.
"Why should I get dressed when we're planning on having sex after you tell me about Voldemort?" Harry stated.
"Excuse me, that's presumptuous," Hermione said, scandalized (of course, the part of her that liked to be distracted cursed her and said "Get on with the Voldemort discussion so we can get to the shagging!").
"Oh, oh, can I go first?" Luna asked excitedly. Hermione knew that the blonde wasn't offering to talk about Voldemort first, but rather she was referring to the other part of Harry's plan.
"Actually, I was thinking about watching the two of you go at it for a while," Harry said. "Of course I'd jump in when you two are good and randy."
"I'm not going to have sex with Luna while you watch," protested Hermione with anger (of course, she was using the mask of anger to hide her initial surprise at the fact that she rather enjoyed the idea of being intimate with Luna).
"Your argument would have more merit if I couldn't see that your nipples were already hard," Harry said while looking at the stiff nubs poking through Hermione's blouse.
"Oh, damn," Hermione moaned as she looked down and lamented the loss of her bra and the extra amount of coverage that it would've provided.
"Does that mean you liked it when I 'cleaned' you out earlier?" Luna asked with a genuine smile.
Hermione refused to answer. However, the blush burning her cheeks and her nipples growing even harder gave away the truth.
"I think it was the slurping. That probably did the trick. I reckon that it tickled nicely," speculated Harry. "Now get on with this fellow Voldemort, tell me everything you know about him and his underlings; their actions, histories, personalities, and whatever else you can think of. I want to know about my competition in this world. And make it quick so Luna can start slurping out your pussy."
"I never realized that I was a lesbian," muttered Hermione, surprising herself with this revelation.
"Actually, since you like the pole, you're bisexual, not lesbian," Luna pointed out.
"I like the 'pole'?" Hermione asked, a little taken aback that the blonde witch could use such a crude term.
"Yes, you know; dick, cock, willy, John Thomas, meat torpedo, the nimbus model thirty-one centimeter flying-broom, the sperm tube, beef lifeline," Luna listed. "Venus' lasso, honey pot whisk, happy hole-punch, the Gland Imperial Master – you'll notice that I just said 'Gland' and not 'Grand', Goliath's big toe-"
"Yes, I get the point," Hermione said while blushing madly.
"No, you'll get the point after you, and I go down on each other in turns," the blonde said while unbuttoning her blouse. "And when I said 'you'll get the point,' I was obviously using literary imagery to describe Harry's cock plunging into you."
"All right then, it's settled," Harry said and clapped his hands together. "After you tell me about Voldemort, the two of you start muff-diving each other, and then I'll shag you silly."
'Well, there's no point in fighting it,' Hermione tried to rationalize to herself while the part that liked to be distracted cheered with great joy.
-Line Break-
Early the next day, Voldemort found himself pacing back and forth in his throne room mumbling obscenities. His minions had been unsuccessful in bringing him virgins. The plan he had concocted of overthrowing the world with his counterpart from another reality was dependent on acquiring at least one virgin.
There had to be a way to find virgins, but he didn't know how. He had hoped that Bellatrix's offerings were untouched (especially seeing where she had picked them up), but his hopes were dashed. Then, Voldemort decided to order his followers to sacrifice their own children so that he could perform the ritual. But it seemed like all of his followers' sprogs were sluts; there wasn't a single virgin among the bunch. Parkinson, Bulstrode, Greengrass, and Pritchard brought their daughters in, and each one failed the Virginitas Charm.
"If you have to have a job done right, you might as well do it yourself," Voldemort grumbled and walked out of his throne room.
-Line Break-
Hermione groaned as she slowly woke up. She was wedged between Luna and Harry with the morning sun spilling in through the bedroom window.
After she told Harry everything he knew about Voldemort and the Death Eaters the night before, Harry held true to his word and watched as Luna and Hermione had some intense sex. At first, the two witches fumbled around a bit, but they then fell into a groove, so to speak. Their kisses and touches were soft and gentle. And when Hermione tasted Luna's petals for the first time, both witches moaned in passion (of course, Hermione couldn't tell over Luna's slurps if the blonde was moaning when it was time for her to perform oral sex). Then, after both witches had reached the heights of ecstasy (several times), Harry joined them. He first took Luna, then Hermione, and then he made the two witches lie on top of one another, face to face, and alternated thrusts between the witches.
Now, in the morning light, a troubling thought came to Hermione; Harry was just like Ron. Well, not like Ron in many, many (important) aspects (i.e., a great kisser with a talented tongue, a honking big willy, and the knowledge to use said honking big willy), but both wizards were just using her for their own jollies. A disappointed frown marred her face. As she distractedly played with the soft black hairs on his strapping chest, she berated herself internally. This was worse than the times she was duped into having sex with Ron. At least then, she could blame the Hook, Line, and Sinker Ward for making her gullible enough to fall for Ron's potion-induced false tears. With Harry, Hermione found herself hopping in bed with him (and Luna) because he was a fantastic kisser and was great at sex. She was willingly letting Harry use her for sex.
"A knut for your thoughts?" asked Harry.
"I thought you were asleep," Hermione said softly.
"I was, but then someone started running their fingers through my chest hair."
"Sorry," she apologized.
"Well, as long as I'm up, you might as well tell me what's bothering you," Harry said.
Luna let out a delicate snore, and Hermione said to Harry, "Nothing's bothering me."
"What would you say if I told you I was a master Legilimens and can tell you're lying," Harry said. Of course, he was lying; he never even took one lesson, but Hermione didn't need to know that.
"I'll tell you later, I don't want to wake Luna," whispered Hermione. In truth, she hoped to avoid the topic.
"I don't think Luna's going to wake up even if the roof caved in," Harry said. "You really did a good job of tuckering her out."
"I did?" Hermione asked while blushing. "I think you had more to do with that than I did."
"Oh, please, after my last shot, you pinned Luna and gave her a very thorough, and extremely sensual, tongue examination," the black-haired wizard said with a chuckle.
"Did I?" Hermione asked in surprise. Slowly, the image of pushing Luna onto her back and doing exactly what Harry had described formed in Hermione's mind. "Oh, I forgot about that. I guess I just got caught up in the moment."
"So now that I know you're lying about nothing bothering you, and the excuse of waking Luna has been debunked, start talking," prodded Harry.
Hermione closed her eyes and said dejectedly, "I've become nothing more than a sex object."
"Okay, how'd you come to that conclusion?" Harry asked as he brushed a loose strand of Hermione's hair behind her ear.
"Ron tricked me into giving up my virginity to him by using a ward that made my judgment falter, and using a potion that made him weep. The berk did the same thing with Luna. He then used the same trick two more times on me. Next, I meet you, and the first thing I know is that you've got me on a conjured bed giving me earth-shaking orgasms."
"So I'm better than Ron?" Harry asked coyly.
"Oh God, Ron's not even a tenth of a man that you are," Hermione answered. "But that's not the point. We had sex pretty much right after we met. And since then, all we've done is have sex. I'm just afraid that the only reason that you're interested in me is for shagging," she concluded.
"To be honest, I really do like making love to you... and to Luna... and watching you and Luna make love," he said. "But that isn't the only reason why I'm interested in you. If you're anything like the Hermione Granger from my world, you're smart as a whip, can do anything you put your mind to, also stubborn as a troll, and you're not afraid to tell me when you think I'm wrong. Those are excellent qualities for a good second in command."
"You're not just telling me that to make me feel better, are you?" she asked, touched by his words.
"Hermione, if I wanted you to feel better, I'd just shag your brains out," he affirmed. "Which I can do really well. And often."
"What about Luna, then?" Hermione asked, feeling better.
"Oh, I can shag her senseless, too."
"No, no," the brunette giggled. "Do you keep her around for sex, or do you have other reasons?"
"Well, like you, if Luna is anything like the one from my reality, she's very smart, but she has the unique ability to look at something from a unique angle. That, and she's incredibly open-minded."
"In what ways?" asked Hermione.
"Watch," he said and poked Luna in the shoulder. "Oi, poppet, wake up."
The blonde slowly stirred and grumbled, "Wha' for?"
"Because I want to bugger you while Hermione tells me all about this world's Ministry and their recent actions."
"M'kay," Luna said and yawned. She slowly rolled over onto her belly and gradually began to lift her bottom up into the air. The blonde witch was priding herself on how adventurous she had been in the past day.
"See, open-minded," Harry said to Hermione. He reached over the brunette and snatched a small tube from the nightstand.
"What's that?" asked Hermione. Even though it looked like a tube of toothpaste at first glance, Hermione was fairly certain that Harry wasn't going to brush his teeth in preparation for sodomizing Luna.
"Here, take a look," Harry said and handed her the tube.
A caricature of Harry was on the tube, giving the reader a "thumbs-up" signal. There, in bold letters, was:
"Harry's Bum Mint Foaming Gel!
Cleans out the nasty place lickety-split, leaving nothing behind but a pleasant mint flavor. Just place the tip of the dispenser in the opening, squeeze a dollop into the cavity, and all the dirty bits are cleansed and removed magically by Harry's Bum Mint Foaming Gel. After the path is cleared, the foam turns into a vapor. No mess and no clean up!"
"Where the hell did you get this?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I conjured up the necessary ingredients last night while you were ravishing Luna," Harry informed. He took the tube away from Hermione and crawled behind Luna. With one hand on her bottom, Harry placed the tip of the tube to Luna's pink button and gave the package a little squeeze.
"Oh my, that tickles!!" Luna exclaimed over the sound of the foam expanding in her bottom.
While Luna shivered and giggled under the effects of the cleansing gel, Harry conjured two sticks. Each stick was slightly larger than Harry's forefinger.
"What are those for?" asked Hermione as she held up one of the sticks.
"It's to stretch poppet out," Harry said, and conjured a tub of a clear gel-like liquid. "They expand on command, to help loosen her anus. I can't just stuff my cock in her without preparing her, now can I? Now, start talking about the Ministry."
Hermione decided to give Harry a lesson in current events, rather than question the need for a second expanding tool.
-Line Break-
"What's the news, Albus?" Remus asked when he walked into the Headmaster's office.
"Alastor and Kingsley have returned from Sweden. It seems that Miss Lovegood and her father had planned on spending their holiday searching for mythical beasts. But Miss Lovegood had a number of dreams that apparently told her to stay at home. Mr. Lovegood gave his daughter his blessing and went off on his trip alone. He has not heard from his daughter, but has agreed to inform us if he does," Dumbledore said, and poured himself and Moody tea.
"What about the Grangers?" the former Defense Professor asked.
"Well, they are not overly concerned that their daughter has not contacted them," Dumbledore replied and sipped on his tea. "They brought up the fact that Miss Granger has spent less than two weeks at their home over the last two years. They have, apparently, grown accustomed to not hearing from her for great lengths of time."
"We should post guards on both the Lovegood house and the Granger home," Remus suggested. "Just in case one of the girls returns to their home."
"Very good, make sure that it is done," Dumbledore said and placed his teacup down. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go. There is a pressing matter that I must attend to."
"Do you need a hand, Albus?"
"No, thank you. This is a school matter," he said with a smile (the arousal potion in his tea was already starting to work).
Humming softly to himself, Dumbledore strolled down to the school's greenhouse. He walked up behind Pomona and pushed his hips into her backside.
"My, Albus, you're certainly frolicsome lately," giggled Pomona.
"It's all your fault, baby, with your big bottom," Dumbledore cooed seductively. "You know what big witches do to me."
"Oh, Albus, you're such a sweet talker," she giggled again.
"I've told you before, call me 'Daddy.'"
"Why don't you slap my fat bottom, Daddy?" she requested.
-Line Break-
With his black wizards' robes billowing behind him, Voldemort walked into the offices of the Muggle periodical Top-Floor Apartment Forum Magazine. He had the perfect plan to get his hands on virgins, and this filthy periodical would be the key to finding his sacrifices.
"Oh, don't you look smashing," the square-faced receptionist greeted Voldemort. She smiled at him with a crooked-tooth grin. "That black cloak and the pale, nose-less face make you look so exotic."
"Your magazine is made up entirely of stories written by readers, correct?" the Dark Lord demanded, ignoring her compliment.
"Yes, sweetie," the receptionist replied with a gravelly voice as she dug a bit of food that had become jammed between her front two teeth with her overly long and garishly red fingernail.
"Show me where you keep these letters," Voldemort ordered.
"Sweetie, we here at Top-Floor Apartment Forum Magazine only allow contributors who hand in their posts in person to see where we keep our letters," she replied (her large Adam's apple bounced up and down with each word) and adjusted the flaming red wig perched on top of her head.
"I could kill you and find it myself," snarled Voldemort, and he brandished his wand.
"I don't know if you could do it with that stick or not, but it wouldn't be as much fun as writing a story, now would it?" the receptionist asked.
"You don't know me or know what I consider 'fun'?" he replied with a cruel smile.
"Well, you've obviously never written a story for Top-Floor Apartment Forum then," she returned and leaned back in her chair.
His curiosity got the better of him, and Voldemort asked, "Is it more enjoyable than torturing people?"
"Oh, loads better," she replied. "And if torture is your thing, you can throw that in as well."
"Really?"
"Sure, your imagination is the only limit," she smiled. "Why, if I were you, I'd take a seat right over there," she added, pointing to a group of chairs on the other side of the waiting room. "And I'd pick up that pad of paper and pen on the coffee table and write a story about how one day I strolled into an office and met a charming receptionist. And how this receptionist and I shagged in the loo."
"That could be interesting," mused Voldemort, knowing full well that this woman was referring to herself.
"And it's important to give loads of details," she continued. "The more details, the better; it adds a bit of realism to it."
"What kind of details?"
"Well, for example, this receptionist has a firm C-cup, topped with sensitive pink nipples, can not only swallow, but gurgle, and has a six-inch cock," she offered.
"Wait, you have a penis?" Voldemort asked in shock.
"Yes, I was born a boy and still have most of those parts; would you like to see it?"
The Dark Lord weighed his options for several seconds before responding, "That could be nice."
"Well, if you write a story and if it's good, I might just show you," the receptionist said. "And if your story is fantastic, I just might do my best to reenact that story with you."
Voldemort stalked over to the coffee table, sat on a nearby chair, and began to write on the pad of paper.
"Dear Top-Floor Apartment Forum,
I never thought it could happen to me..."
-Line Break-
"Here are the clothes you asked for," Madam Malkin said as she walked into the flat with dozens of boxes floating in after her. "Although I don't know why you'd need so many clothes, I've been here twice, and both times all three of you have been naked."
"You don't sound disappointed," Harry said, and he walked up to the happy witch (his monument swinging like a pendulum).
"Honey, I'm not," Malkin replied (while her eyes swung back and forth in time with Harry's manhood). "Well, I hope you'll enjoy your clothes... if you ever wear them."
"We'll try them on right now," Harry offered.
"That's a shame. Have a wonderful day, I know I will," Malkin said and walked out of the flat (she had an appointment with a large cucumber that she was going to name "Harry" and she didn't want to keep it waiting).
"Now let's get you two dressed," Harry said and rummaged through the stacks of boxes. After tossing five boxes to the side, he placed two boxes apart from the others and held up his wand.
"Where did he get his wand from?" Hermione asked, having not seen where he retrieved his magical tool.
"He had it in his hand the entire time," Luna said. "You didn't see it because you were focused on his John Thomas."
"True," Hermione said with a nod.
Harry tapped his wand on the box on his right. It popped open, and a shimmering cloth shot out. With a whoosh, it wrapped around Luna. In the blink of an eye, the blonde witch was draped in gossamer fabric that hung from a pearl choke-collar. The fabric was so sheer that Luna's nipples and blonde muff could easily be seen through it.
"It's beautiful," Luna said, and spun to show it off.
"She can't wear that in public," Hermione objected. "I can see right through it."
Harry tapped the other box, and something black with a hint of red flew out and wrapped around Hermione.
"Oh come on," protested Hermione. She was now dressed in skin tight black leather trousers (though Hermione would argue that trousers need a front and back to be considered actual trousers – this outfit left her round bum and cunny exposed), a red thong (that was so small that she assumed it would barely cover a House Elf's genitals... that or Ron's manhood... then again, comparing Ron's genital to that of a House Elf would be an insult to the House-Elf), a black leather strap that was bound around her chest (this strap was so narrow that it only covered her large areolas – and then just barely; the leather was only a hair's width wider than her areolas). The leather band was so tightly bound around her chest that her impressive breasts were squashed, showing off acres of awe-inspiring cleavage. The outfit was finished with thigh-high black leather stiletto platform boots; the platforms were a whopping four inches thick, leaving the stiletto heels slightly over six inches long.
"I can't wear this in public," the brunette complained, looking down at her own expansive cleavage.
"That's what cloaks are made for," Harry said. "You can wear these ensembles under a concealing robe."
"To hell with that," protested Hermione. "If a strong gust of wind comes along, I'll show everyone that I only have a bit of floss covering my arse-hole."
"That makes it exciting," Luna said with a smile (the fact that she found this concept thrilling was evident by her clearly visible nipples becoming hard).
"And I can't walk in these... these torture devices," the brunette continued to whine. As if to drive this point home, she stumbled slightly.
"I can't walk right either," Luna offered. "But I think you'll get used to it."
Hermione looked at Luna's bare feet with a questioning look.
"Oh, the reason that I'm having difficulty walking has nothing to do with dominatrix-style boots – which look smashing by the way," Luna began cheerfully. "It is because Harry stuffed his... what was the phrase you used to describe it? Oh, yes, a summer sausage!"
"Big – hot – throbbing –summer sausage," Hermione corrected.
"Yes, my difficulty in walking comes from the fact that Harry stuffed his big, hot, throbbing summer sausage up my bum," Luna concluded happily. "Although I do hope I become accustomed to it. It was fun!"
Harry walked up to Hermione and unceremoniously crushed his lips to hers. Like before, Hermione's face instantly began to heat up. She opened her mouth, and Harry slid his tongue in. Eagerly, she pressed her breasts into his chest.
He removed himself from Hermione's lips and pulled Luna toward him and kissed the blonde just as intensely. After a minute, Harry released Luna. After taking a deep breath, Luna asked huskily, "How do you kiss so good?"
"It's 'so well'," Hermione (whose voice was just as husky) corrected.
"A Hindu Mystic taught me how to kiss," he said and kissed both witches in turn. "It's an ancient technique designed to illicit the most arousal."
"Well, it works," Hermione commented dreamily.
"Can you teach us how to do it?" asked Luna.
"Later, right now I'm going to kiss Hermione's tits, place a few kisses down her belly, and then eat her out, 'kay?"
Harry kissed Hermione on the lips before slowly trailing kisses down her chin, neck, and the valley of her ample cleavage. The wizard took his time kissing every bit of her exposed flesh before moving his attention down. Hermione's head became dizzy as he kissed her belly. Then he knelt in front of her. Before she could even register what he was planning on doing, he tore off her flimsy red thong.
"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise. "You just bought that!"
"A quick spell will fix it up as good as new. And the only thing clothing is good for is to strip it off," he explained, and quickly dove right between her legs.
"Oh my!" she exclaimed with a yelp (that yelp caused the thin strap of leather covering her breast to slide down, exposing a good portion of her nipples).
"Hrrmhnee, thlth mm ahbut Doombldrk," Harry spoke directly into Hermione's wet core.
"Oh my," she exclaimed again. The vibrations of his voice sent happy shivers up her spine.
"I'm sorry, Harry, we couldn't understand you," Luna interrupted. "You had your mouth full."
Harry pulled away and repeated, "Hermione, tell me about Dumbledore," and then dove right back to her snatch.
"Ah-ah, well, wh-where to s-s-start," she stuttered as Harry licked and suckled her tender bits.
Harry pulled away once again, this time he ordered Luna, "Hermione's tits need a little attention. How about you suck on them?"
"Gladly," the blonde chirped and wrapped her lips around Hermione's left nipple, and Harry continued his ministrations on the brunette's cunny.
Hermione wove a long tale (full of long pauses, shuddering breaths, and "oh's" and "ah's") about Dumbledore and his adventures. When she got to the history of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry bent her over and took her from behind (coincidentally, the number of current Order members that Hermione could list was also the same number of orgasms she had).
-Line Break-
Draco woke up late in the afternoon. After the day he had (having sex with ten witches, all thanks to the help of various potions), he could've easily slept the day away. However, the urgent need to pee woke him up. The blond wizard stumbled and staggered to his bathroom.
He pulled his organ out of his pajama bottoms and wasn't surprised to see a rich red color to it. After all, he had used it so much yesterday that he suspected that it would be rubbed raw.
With a smile, he recalled the more pleasant witches he had shagged (he had planned on asking his Father to adjust his memories so that he wouldn't remember the whore, Millicent, nor the four Pritchard girls). Pansy had a very nice rack that bounced in wondrous ways. Daphne made such arousing moaning sounds. And Astoria had fulfilled a nasty fantasy that Draco had. As he held his sore manhood, Draco thought of how he would treasure the memories of that day (well, the memories that he didn't plan on magically wiping from his mind).
With a groan, Draco began to relieve himself. Soon after the steady trickle began, that relief turned into intense pain.
"OH MY GOD!" he shouted in agony. "WHY DOES IT BURN?"
To Be Continued