J K Rowling - [Harry Potter 0X]

by Harry Potter

  “I did what any bloke in my situation would do: I ran to my Mum.” Harry could tell that Ron was in a losing battle with his personal demons. “I fire-called her and she came straight away. I told Mum what happened, how Hermione and Ginny were fighting over you and that Ginny had even tried to molest you. Well, she gave me a talking to, about how I wasn’t a good brother and how it was my fault because I set a bad example for her and what-not. So my day was getting worse: I saw my sister’s... bits and then my mother was blaming me. But I figured it couldn’t get much worse. But then she had to go and give you... advice...”

  Harry shuddered in fear of the recollection of that advice.

  “I could have gone my entire life very happily without hearing my mum admit that she’s had my dad’s baby batter in her eyes.” Ron paused before concluding: “I will never be hard again.”

  Harry nodded his head silently as he too wondered if ‘Harry, Jr.’ would ever come out and play again.

  Both emotionally distraught wizards turned to the portrait hole as the Fat Lady’s painting swung open. Hermione walked in followed by Dobby; each was carrying a tray piled high with food. Harry noticed immediately that the tray that Dobby was carrying was loaded with cakes, éclairs, and biscuits, whereas Hermione’s tray had a varied array of fruits and vegetables. Much to Harry’s dread, Dobby, with his tray filled with delectable goodies, headed straight for Ron. Since Hermione was still insisting that Harry remain on his mysterious diet, she placed the tray of veggies and fruit in front of him.

  “Can’t I have one éclair?” Harry asked pitifully.

  “He can have it all, for all I care,” Ron offered in his monotone. “I don’t think I’ll eat another bite for the rest of my life.”

  “Don’t tell me you two are still troubled what Molly said?” Hermione asked.

  “Your mum didn’t just tell you what my mum did,” retorted Ron.

  “No, but I did walk in on my parents once,” countered Hermione. She added in an undertone, “To this day, I just don’t see what men like about that silly metal bikini Carrie Fisher wore in that movie...

  “Ron, your mother just told you that she is still very much in love with your father.” Hermione stated in a clear voice. “You should feel happy for her, not revolted by the notion.”

  “What she told us about wasn’t love!” Ron said heatedly, the monotone gone from his speech. “That isn’t love... that’s... that’s...”

  “What? ‘A blow-job’?” Hermione finished for Ron. The red-haired wizard recoiled at the term “blow-job” as if Hermione had physically struck him. Hermione continued despite Ron’s reaction, “It isn’t necessarily love, but it proves your mother loves your father and is willing to do an activity that makes him happy.”

  “Hermione, they... they’re old and they have kids,” Harry put in. “They shouldn’t be doing things like that.”

  “They aren’t too old to have feelings for each other, Harry. And a desire to act on those feelings,” argued Hermione. “And as for having kids, Ron has six siblings; counting the twins, Molly has given birth six times. Do you think that means Molly and Arthur have only had sex a total of six times?”

  “YES!” both Ron and Harry shouted. Neither one wanted to have the mental image of the elder Weasleys shagging. Upon wishing that they didn’t want said image entering their mind, naturally that particular image happened to enter their minds.

  “Oh please, Ron. I’m certain that your parents have had sex many more than six times in their life,” stated Hermione. “Think of it as ‘practice runs’ if you will. And they like these ‘practice runs’ so much that even though they aren’t having any more babies, they still enjoy doing them.

  “And as for you, Harry,” Hermione said turning to her boyfriend. “From all the stories I’ve heard about your father, I’m sure James took every opportunity to do some ‘practice runs’ with your mother.”

  Harry used all of his will to block the image of his parents fooling around that was threatening to enter his mind.

  “And don’t forget your father was an Animagus as well,” Hermione added with a touch of amusement. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out if Lily was a little curious and...” Seeing the absolute look of horror and dismay on her boyfriend’s face, Hermione decided to unleash her more playful side. “Hmmm... I wonder. Is it actually bestiality if the animal’s really human?”

  Harry didn’t register the rest of Hermione’s train of thought because he blacked out once again. Mercifully. Chapter Eleven Summary: We’re hunting howcwuxes

  Harry and Hermione didn’t speak for nearly two and a half days, well, at least not with each other. Hermione was mad because Harry was being a child concerning her comments regarding adults and love. Harry was mad at Hermione because of her comments about parents and sex, as well as her off-color joke about Lily experimenting with Harry’s father’s animagus form. To Hermione, their conversation was about the happiness one should feel if adults, including those who were parents, were madly in love and willing to act upon their feelings. To Harry, it was a heated debate about unnatural and disturbing activities that some people shouldn’t do because they had kids, and even worse, they were old. And that comment about his mum and Prongs made Harry feel a confusing combination of anger and revulsion.

  It didn’t help Harry’s mood that the house-elves were still following Hermione’s orders and wouldn’t allow him cheese or any sweets. He even convinced Ron to sneak into the kitchen and fetch him some milk on the sly. Ron had no trouble in retrieving the milk, but as his friend handed the glass to him, an anonymous house-elf popped out of nowhere and snatched the cool beverage from Harry’s hands and disappeared.

  For the first day, Harry did a very good job of ignoring Hermione. Whenever she entered a room that he was in, Harry would pretend to find something in the opposite direction of Hermione to be intensely interesting. For example, when he was in the Common Room and she entered through the Portrait Hole, Harry busied himself by inspecting the recently repaired hearth.

  For that same day, Hermione did her best to break through Harry’s mood. She attempted to talk some sense into him, but Harry would either walk away from her or whistle loudly in hopes of drowning her out. When conventional methods of communication had failed, Hermione tried a more... primal approach. Later, as Harry was trying to engage Ron in a game of Wizards Chess (the poor man was nearly comatose due to his own recent mental trauma), Hermione decided to read a book while sitting on the couch near Harry. Of course the book was Harry’s “special book”. And in an attempt to better break through Harry’s resolve, Hermione wasn’t wearing her normal clothes. She wore a two sizes too small pullover that hugged her skin; in fact, it hugged her so much that one could easily tell that Hermione wasn’t wearing a bra. The pullover had a very interesting design on the front. If anyone besides Harry or the House-Elves of Hogwarts saw the design, they would simply assume that Hermione liked cute Japanese cartoons. But as all of the House-Elves and Harry knew, Hermione had a bit of a naughty side. Due to the fact that the pullover hugged her so, combined with her braless condition, the outline of Hermione’s nipples and areolas could easily be seen through “Hello Kitty’s” eyes. She didn’t stop there with her subtle assault against Harry’s stubbornness. To say that she was wearing a short plaid skirt was a bit of an understatement. It would be more accurate to say that she had tied a small plaid handkerchief around her shapely hips. Of course, when Hermione sat down near Harry, she made it a point to position herself so that her plaid handkerchief rose up slightly so that if Harry looked over he would’ve gotten a vice view of her bum. She wondered whether or not Harry realized that she wasn’t wearing her knickers as added ammunition. She intentionally flashed him quite a bit of her unclothed bum.

  But this was the first day and Harry was doing a very good job of ignoring Hermione. His stubbornness in his resolve to continue his childish anger made Hermione very mad. She had decided as she went to bed that night that if Harry w
anted to hold a grudge, she would show him what a grudge truly was.

  The next morning, Harry woke up feeling terrible. He had an unfamiliar pressure in his chest that was eating away at him. He couldn’t place what the painful sensation was. He sulked out of bed with his feet dragging behind him as he made his way alone to the Great Hall for breakfast (he had tried to wake Ron up, but his red-headed friend was mumbling in his sleep about something like “... trim that thing you nasty...”). As he was eating a bowl of cereal, Hermione came down to eat as well. The heavy sensation in Harry’s chest gnawed at him some more as she sat down at the Gryffindor table; mind you she made it a point to sit as far away from Harry as possible. Harry pushed his ponderings about the sensation in his chest to the side; he had a job to do. And that job was ignoring Hermione. He made of show of ignoring her by stomping his feet as he passed by her as he left the Great Hall. Harry was a little perplexed that Hermione seemed to be ignoring him right back.

  Two hours later, Harry thought it was time to ignore Hermione some more. So he sought her out the Common Room where she was sitting on a squashy chair reading a book. He purposely threw himself down on the couch nearby with a thump, hoping to let her know that he was still ignoring her and as well as to agitate her. Apparently, his loud flop on the couch did not alert Hermione to his presence. She sat there on her chair, dutifully reading her book. Harry huffed loudly to indicate he was bored and had nothing to do, nothing besides ignore Hermione, that is. But how could Harry revel in his “ignoring Hermione” plan if she didn’t know that he was intentionally ignoring her?

  The heaviness in Harry’s chest ate away a little more, while Hermione turned the page, completely oblivious to his presence. He huffed again, this time much louder and he accentuated his boredom by sighing heavily. Much to his chagrin, Hermione didn’t even bat an eyelash in his direction.

  Suddenly, Harry found himself wanting to be just by her side while she read that book. He wanted her dainty frame pushed up against his body, as he sat there doing nothing but letting her pleasant scent wash over him, letting her warmth mingle with his. He was shocked to find himself desiring to turn the pages of her book for her as she rested her hands on his knees. He needed her to be by him.

  Harry gulped as he realized that he was being an utter fool. Harry shot up and meekly called out her name, “Hermione?”

  And Hermione turned the page. Again Harry tried to gain her attention, “Hermione?”

  It seemed impossible, but Harry could have sworn that Hermione had redoubled her efforts to read the book. A thought dawned on Harry; he would show Hermione just how much he needed her by getting her a present, a flower perhaps!

  Harry scurried out of the Common Room and headed toward the Green Houses, he was sure he’d be able to find a flower for Hermione there. Upon entering the Green House, Harry realized that his plan had one slight flaw; most of the flowers in the Hogwarts Green Houses could kill a person. Some would bite, others would spit venom, and still others would strangle their victims. It wouldn’t do for Harry to show Hermione how much he wanted and needed her by inadvertently killing her now would it? Thankfully, the gates leading to Hogsmeade were open and Harry trotted to the little village.

  A few hours later, Harry returned to the castle with his prize. It was a lovely flower whose petals shone a different color depending on the angle of light. It would switch between shades of purple to red and to yellow, just by tilting it ever so slightly.

  Harry found Hermione still in the Common Room, still reading, although Harry could tell it was a different book from earlier. He figured that it would be romantic if he would just saunter by and drop the flower on her open book. With such a perfect plan, Harry did just that. The flower’s stem landed in the seam of the open book while the petals hung over the top of the binding. Harry reckoned that Hermione would be gushing (no, not that way - get your minds out of the gutter) over the flower within mere moments. However, Hermione’s reaction was somewhat different than Harry was expecting; Hermione quietly closed her book, trapping the stem in its pages. She then set the book aside, completely ignoring the beautiful flower sticking out of its pages, and retrieved another tome from her bag.

  Harry’s heart plummeted to the floor. She ignored his thoughtful and beautiful gift. With his shoulders slumped, Harry sulked off to his room.

  The next morning, Harry decided that because Hermione had cast aside his peace offering, he would continue to ignore his so-called girlfriend until she came to him. He decided that he would treat her the way she had him! He vowed anew that he would completely ignore her, even if she tried to make a similar, loving gesture. He decided that he would ignore her until she begged him for forgiveness. It was a matter of principle now.

  Harry’s resolve lasted almost four full hours.

  He walked into the Great Hall for lunch to find Hermione sitting across from a sullen looking Ron. Harry had intended to sit next to Ron, and do a wonderful job of ignoring Hermione. But the heaviness in his chest had become too much, and he found himself on his knees next to Hermione.

  “Please, Hermione, please forgive me,” he pleaded. Harry’s pride was thrown to the four winds as he knelt next to the most beautiful witch in the world. He didn’t care if he was making an arse out of himself in front of her or Ron. He just wanted Hermione to hold his hand and smile at him while she said that all was forgiven.

  But alas, Hermione’s resolve was much stronger than Harry’s. She continued to ignore him as she asked Ron to pass her the jam.

  “I was wrong!” announced Harry. What he was wrong about he wasn’t sure, but something inside of him told him that it was the proper thing to say.

  “Ah, that’s what I was waiting for,” stated Hermione and turned to Harry with a smile on her face. Of course it was an “I’m right and you’re wrong” smile but Harry didn’t care. All he cared about was that she was smiling, and it was at him. The heaviness disappeared from his chest and warmth flowed through his veins. “I don’t understand why you reacted the way you did, Harry. I was only joking about your mother experimenting with your father’s animagus form.”

  It was close enough for an apology to make Harry happy. He got up from the floor and took his place next to Hermione. With a smile on his face and one in his heart, Harry took her hand in his.

  “I’m still right about you two being childish concerning parents and their sex lives,” added Hermione.

  And the smile lessened in Harry’s heart and on his face.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Harry,” Hermione said softly, while caressing his cheek. “I don’t understand why you and Ron are reacting in such a way? It’s completely natural for Molly and Arthur to do such things. I think it’s wonderful that they’re still going at it after so many years of marriage.”

  “But they’re parents Hermione,” argued Harry, his hand going clammy at the thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley doing it. “They’re not supposed to do such things.”

  “Yeah, he’s right,” agreed Ron.

  “Why?” asked Hermione. “Why aren’t they supposed to act on their love and be intimate?”

  “Because they’re parents!” both Harry and Ron concluded. In their minds, the argument needed no further explanation. It was just the way it was, sort of like a Universal Rule of Parents. It was a clear-cut situation; parents kissed each other (and then only a light peck) and nothing more. Period. End of discussion. But Hermione didn’t understand that it needed no further discussion and pressed on.

  “But why?” she asked.

  “Because,” answered Harry stubbornly. If Hermione didn’t understand the Universal Rule of Parents, how was he going to teach her? He stood up and vented his frustration with his girlfriend’s unworldly-ness by pacing back and forth.

  “Alright, let me ask you a hypothetical question, then,” began Hermione.

  To which Ron asked, “Hypo-what?”

  “Let’s say we get married,” Hermione said to Harry, tuning out Ron. “And we have kids
.”

  “Okay,” responded Harry immediately. He imagined the situation that Hermione proposed; he saw himself a few years down the line where he and Hermione had a couple of kids. Harry paused and reflected on this train of thought and his reaction, or lack there of. He wasn’t mortified at Hermione’s discussion of the two of them having kids in the least. Normally, when a teenaged male is in a discussion with his teenaged girlfriend and she starts talking about having kids, the male usually runs like hell; it’s the nature of things. But Harry was quite surprised to find that he wasn’t fearful of the thought of becoming the father to Hermione’s children. In fact, he found it pleasant. He felt his face heat up just at the thought of it.

  “Ah, look, ickle-Harry-kins is blushing,” Ron poked fun of his best mate. Apparently, his sour mood lifted slightly at the sight of his best mate blushing and more specifically, the opportunity to tease him about it.

  Upon noticing Harry’s reaction to the thought of starting a family with her, Hermione started to blush as well. Harry assumed that she was just as happy as he was with the idea of becoming the mother of his children.

  “Oh, wook,” Ron continued in a mock baby voice, “now ickle-Hermione-kins is blushing too.”

  The sight of his girlfriend’s cheeks turning red just made Harry happier. His imagination was now running rampant and started to create scenarios all on its own. Harry was now imaging bouncing their youngest child on his knee, while Hermione helped their oldest, home from Hogwarts for summer holiday, with her Transfiguration homework.

  “Ah, now Harry-kins is glowing...” Ron started. “Um... Harry. You’re glowing. Really glowing!”

  Harry couldn’t help but imaging what it would be like to read bedtime stories to his and Hermione’s kids. How proud he’d be when his son flew his first broom as he shouted, “Daddy, I’m doing it!” As Harry would beam with pride, he imagined Hermione would then walk up to him and tell him that she was pregnant again.