by Harry Potter
Apparently, when he transfigured the bedroom, his magic went a little farther. What was once a tiny little loo with a broken toilet was now a bathroom that made the Prefects’ bathroom look like a public toilet in a trashy and rundown bar.
There was a shower stall with nearly twenty shower-heads of various shapes and sizes. In the back of the room was what Harry assumed was the tub. It was a large pool that looked like it could easily hold six people comfortably, and it was cut out of a large boulder. Water cascaded down from a waterfall in the back of the tub.
“I didn’t know...” Harry mumbled.
“I think it’s beautiful,” commented Hermione. Harry felt pride at making Hermione happy.
“Why are you still dressed?” Hermione asked, pulling Harry out of his awe.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Harry murmured while he shed his clothing.
“Now, about what’s going to happen,” Hermione began. “From everything I’ve read and heard about a witch’s first time, it’s going to be painful.”
Harry could tell that Hermione was anxious and was explaining what was going to happen to ease her nerves.
“You’ll need to go slow,” she continued. “I’ve heard that a wizard sometimes gets carried and he goes fast, but you’ll need to control yourself.”
“I will,” agreed Harry as he discarded the last of his clothing.
“Now the ritual is fairly simple,” Hermione added. “I’ll just take this potion, say an incantation and then during the... the act, our magics will mingle. Doing this will give me a fifty to one-hundred percent boost in my power.”
“Okay,” Harry said.
Hermione picked up the potion and drank it in one gulp. She then muttered; “Cornu Confodio Cruento.”
Hermione nodded her head, indicating that she was ready. Harry led her to the large bed and kissed her. She sat on the bed and suggested, “Maybe you should do that thing with you tongue; you know, just to help me relax.”
Harry was more than happy to comply. He helped her ease back onto the bed and then knelt on the floor in between her legs. Harry kissed, licked, and suckled her flower with his love charged Parsletongue magic for a few moments until Hermione was very wet.
“That’s good enough,” Hermione panted and Harry stood up. The witch repositioned herself so that she was lying on the bed and Harry took his place next to her.
“How do you want to do this?” asked Harry.
“You on top,” she said. Hermione spread her legs and Harry crawled on top of her. He followed her hand with his eyes as she slowly reached down in between her own legs. With her fingers, Hermione gently pried apart her petals.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Hermione announced. “Just go slowly.”
Harry nodded and guided his manhood toward his lover’s womanhood. Slowly, he pushed into her. He was able to put his crown just inside her lips when he felt a barrier.
“Go ahead,” Hermione said. “I trust you.”
Harry gently forced his way past her maidenhead and broke it. Hermione bit her lip to stop a painful groan.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked with genuine concern. If she said no, he would pull out even though he wanted to make love to her desperately. His need for this moment was not as great as his concern for Hermione’s well-being.
“Just give me a second,” Hermione requested and Harry waited patiently. After a few moments, Hermione told him, “Go ahead, but slowly please.”
He slowly and carefully pushed himself into his lover; inch by inch, until he was fully inside her. Harry paused and checked on Hermione.
“How is it?”
“It’s not incredibly painful,” Hermione admitted. “It hurts a little and it’s slightly uncomfortable. How is it for you?”
He was ashamed to admit that he loved the sensation while she didn’t. It felt wonderful; she was so warm and the sensation of her wrapped around him was intoxicating. It felt perfect and he never wanted this feeling to end. Even though he hadn’t answered, it was obvious that Hermione knew what he was feeling. She tenderly stroked his face and said, “Don’t worry; I think I’ll grow to love it too.”
Harry kissed her and slowly slid back. With agonizing slowness, Harry moved back and forth inside Hermione. She was correct when she told him that most men got caught up in the moment and would just thrust away; Harry fought the urge to do just that.
Hermione’s face was a mixture of discomfort and happiness. The discomfort was obviously caused by this being her first time. Thankfully, Harry was so excited that he reckoned that he wouldn’t last much longer before climaxing and Hermione’s discomfort would lessen. But her happiness was a little hard to pin down for Harry at first. He had no idea how she could be happy in a situation like this that caused her pain. Then it hit him. She was happy because she was with him and she was giving him so much pleasure. She was in discomfort and some pain but she wanted to give him this out of love.
A sudden warmth filled Harry’s heart as he looked into Hermione’s beautiful hazel eyes. But before he could say the words, she said them first.
“I love you so much, Harry,” she said blissfully.
The warmth that he was feeling rapidly spread throughout his body and he could feel it flow into Hermione’s. He continued to slowly pump and his vision became blurry.
“I love you too,” Harry groaned out as he came and then he blacked out.
***
“Harry wake up,” a happy Hermione stirred Harry from his dreamless slumber. It felt as if his eyelids were made of lead; he had to struggle to open them. He felt completely drained, as if he had just ran a marathon and then wrestled with Grawp. After a moment of internal struggle, Harry was able to open his eyes to find Hermione sitting on his lap. It was obvious that she had cleaned herself up and had put on her knickers and bra.
“How long was I out?” Harry asked groggily as he reached for his glasses.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said. It was evident from the tone in her voice that Hermione was very happy. Mind you, she wasn’t as euphoric as the time Harry had hit her with the super-charged Cheering Charm, but Hermione was truly happy. “I lost consciousness right after you did. But I woke up about an hour ago and showered.”
Harry looked at his girlfriend in wonder. Her skin was flush and she had a ridiculously big grin plastered on her face.
“I love you,” Hermione announced and leaned down to kiss Harry on the lips. She lay on top of Harry, apparently content with just lying there while she playfully ran her fingers through his hair.
“Did the ritual work?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know,” Hermione answered. “I haven’t performed any spells, yet.”
Harry was about to suggest that she check out her power when something finally caught his eye. He was surprised that he hadn’t seen it when she had leaned in to kiss him. But now, as he looked into her eyes, Harry was very surprised to see that her hazel eyes had a number of prominent green flecks in them. The emerald patches even seemed to sparkle; whether the sparkle was magical in nature or just caused by her happiness, Harry didn’t know. Hermione never said anything about expecting a physical change in her appearance after the ritual. Knowing Hermione, if there was a change caused by the ritual, she would have told him about it. So Harry reckoned that the prominent green flecks in her irises were unexpected.
“Ah, Hermione...” Chapter Seventeen Summary: It’s amazing what one can stuff in a broom cupboard.
"You shagged my eyes green!" Hermione screeched. A part of Harry wanted to run very far away due to the anger in his lover's voice. The other part of Harry marveled at how her screams echoed off the marble floor of the expansive bathroom; it was a really large room.
Hermione was leaning over the sink and had her face very close to the mirror in order to examine her eyes more closely. Of course she was still wearing only her bra and knickers. The moment Harry had informed her about her new eye color, Hermione had jumped out of the bed and rushed to see for herself.
And the fact that she was bent over the sink made her round bum stick out quite nicely. The part of Harry that was intrigued by the echo effect was also aroused by the sight of Hermione's bottom. That part wanted to have Harry run his hands over her flesh. Of course the part of Harry that had wanted to run away - the rational part of Harry’s brain if you don’t remember - realized that it would be a very bad idea judging at how mad Hermione was.
"You shagged my eyes green!" she repeated.
"I didn't mean to," Harry weakly defended.
"You shagged my eyes green!" Hermione repeated again.
"Not totally," Harry pointed out. "They're still mostly hazel. And I kind of like the green."
“My eyes have never been hazel, Harry,” Hermione groaned out. “They’ve always been brown.”
“There’s a difference?” asked Harry. To him, hazel was just another way of saying brown.
“No, hazel is brown with a touch of green in it,” explained Hermione. It was obvious by the tone of her voice that Hermione was truly worried by this change. “How long have you noticed that my eyes were hazel?”
“Um... since we’ve been together.”
“What’s happening to me?” Hermione asked.
Harry had no idea, and if Hermione was stumped, he reckoned that they were fairly well buggered.
“Let’s go talk to McGonagall,” Hermione stated.
“Do you think that’ll help?”
“Well, maybe she can offer some suggestions.”
Harry nodded his head in agreement and the two lovers got dressed. Hermione led the way out of the bedroom and stopped when she got into the hall.
“Ah, Harry,” Hermione said while she looked up and down. “I think you changed more than just the bedroom and loo.”
Harry joined Hermione in the hall and was stunned. What was once a dark, dank, and dusty two leveled shack was now an grand three leveled mansion!
To Harry’s left was a white-marble staircase with pure gold fixtures that looked like it belonged in a palace. To his right were seven doors which led to what he assumed were more bedrooms. Above him was a domed sky light which flooded the stairwell and hall with warm light.
The two lovers walked down the stairs and surveyed the second floor. On this floor, there was a large library (which, much to Hermione’s obvious and vocal disappointment, had no books; just empty shelves needing - or, according to Hermione, begging - to be filled) and a game room (complete with a snooker table, large chess table, and another table which looked perfect for a match of exploding snap).
The bottom floor now contained a massive kitchen, dining room, and parlor. At the front of the house was an impressive double door with ornate carvings on it. Harry opened the door and stepped out. The wizard was quite surprised to see that the exterior of the Shrieking Shack had not changed at all; it was still a crumbling hovel. He reasoned that it was now much like the magical tent he and the Weasleys had used when they went to the Quidditch World Cup.
“How does it look out there?” Hermione asked from the foyer while she looked up at the domed ceiling inside the Shack.
“It hasn’t changed,” informed Harry. “It still looks like the old Shack; but its bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Kind of like the tent we had for the World Cup.”
“Or like the Tardis,” Hermione commented off-handedly.
“Who?” asked Harry.
“Exactly,” Hermione answered.
“How did you do this?” Hermione asked when Harry re-entered the now-glorious interior of the Shack. “What kind of spells did you use?”
“None really,” admitted Harry. “I just tapped into my love-core again and focused on the thought of making the room special for you... and this happened.”
“Let’s head back to the castle,” Hermione volunteered in a distracted way as she chewed her lip and looked at the magical building around her. It was clear to Harry that she was thinking about something but wasn’t willing to share just yet.
The two lovers walked through the secret passage - which was now no longer a dark and crumbling tunnel, but rather a well lit cobblestone hallway - to the school ground. Apparently, Harry’s magic altered the passageway as well. He wondered if his magic had changed the Whomping Willow as well. Was it now a harmless tree with brightly colored blossoms?
His question was answered as he approached the exit. Harry saw one of the tree’s limbs swing wildly at a passing bird, knocking it out of the sky. Apparently, Harry’s love magic stopped at changing the passageway and didn’t touch the Whomping Willow. From inside the tunnel, Harry reached up and pressed the secret knot and caused the Willow to freeze in mid-whomp. He helped Hermione out and the pair proceeded to head to the castle.
“What’s that?” Hermione asked as she pointed to a black lump in the distance near the edge of the forest.
“Don’t know,” said Harry while squinting to get a better look at the object.
“Was it there when we went to the Shack?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. To be honest, he was much too focused on the thought of making love to Hermione to have actually paid any attention to his surroundings. For all he knew, a battle could have broken out between the Acromantulas from the forest and the giant squid from the lake and Harry wouldn’t have noticed.
“It’s a person!” Hermione shouted and rushed to the prone figure.
Harry quickly followed his girlfriend. Just before Hermione was about to kneel down so that she could examine the person, Harry recognized the robes. He whipped out his wand and warned, “Hermione, get back! It’s a Death Eater!”
Hermione jumped back at Harry’s warning. Slowly, Harry approached the unknown Death Eater. With his wand still pointing at the prone person, Harry lowered the black hood to reveal a broken and bloodied Death Eater Mask. Harry flicked the mask off.
“It’s Malfoy!” Hermione stated in surprise.
Lying right in front of the young lovers was none other than Draco Malfoy, the wizard who led a group of Death Eaters into the castle and aided in the murder of Dumbledore. His left eye was swollen shut, his nose was clearly broken in two places, and Harry felt it was safe to assume by the extensive amount of blood caked around his mouth that Draco had also lost some teeth as well. Malfoy was pale (well, paler than his normal morgue-like pallor) and looked as if he hadn’t rested or eaten in a day or two. His Death Eater robes were tattered and torn, with pieces of twigs and branches tangled in them.
Judging by the fact that Draco’s blood appeared to have been dry for some time, Harry guessed that Malfoy was attacked a few days previously and had escaped through the Forbidden Forest. Whether that was actually what happened or merely designed to appear so to whomever stumbled across Malfoy wasn’t clear. For all Harry knew this was a trap.
“Let’s get him to Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione ordered.
“No,” barked Harry.
“Harry, he’s injured,” argued Hermione.
“Good,” commented Harry honestly. “He deserves some pain, and if you ask me, he deserves a lot more. Besides, it might be a trap.”
“A trap? To do what precisely?” Hermione asked with her fists on her hips.
“Maybe Voldemort heard that they’re going to open up the school again and he wants to send a message,” Harry explained. “So they make Draco look like he’s gotten the snot kicked out of him and dump him where someone will find him. Then he is taken to the Hospital Ward where McGonagall visits him. Malfoy gives the signal, maybe a Flare Charm or something, then a bunch of Death Eaters Portkey to Malfoy’s location and kill all the staff present and burn the school down. That way, the school would never open again.”
“I don’t know Harry,” Hermione sounded. “It sounds a bit contrived.”
“Contrived, is it? It’s not as contrived as the plan where the Death Eaters entered the castle through the means of a magical teleporting cabinet which brought them into a magical room which houses stolen, hidden, or nefarious objects that have been c
ollected over the ages,” Harry countered. “When Draco and the other Death Eaters left this room, they used the just-invented Peruvian Darkness Power, which Draco bought from the twins, to hide themselves from the castles defenders. No one can see through the Darkness Powder except for Draco because he finally has the Hand of Glory which is the perfect counter for the twins’ product. The Hand of Glory, of course being something he’s pouted for since before our second year. Then the Death Eaters conjured up a magical shield at the base of the stairs leading up to the Astronomy Tower through which no one without a Dark Mark can pass. But even with this impassable shield, some of the Death Eaters stayed and battled the good guys so they can’t get to the shield, which they couldn’t pass even if it wasn’t protected by Death Eaters. While those Death Eaters are fighting the good guys - the ones that couldn’t pass through the shield but for some unknown reason, the bad guys still felt the need to keep the good guys from approaching it - one of the Death Eaters ran up to the top of the Astronomy Tower to cast the Dark Mark so that they could complete their plan to lure Dumbledore back to the castle. They knew he was away because their Imperioed spy alerted them that he and I had left. Mind you, the Death Eaters only had an hour or so warning, because no one, not even me, knew that Dumbledore was planning on leaving. Then once that Death Eater had cast the Dark Mark, he ran back down and fought against the good guys to help make sure they couldn’t reach the shield they couldn’t pass anyway.
“When Dumbledore arrived, they sent Draco up to face him,” Harry continued his analysis of the Death Eater tactics. “Miraculously, Draco, a sixteen year old kid, was able to disarm the most powerful wizard alive - probably because Dumbledore was busy casting a Full Body Bind on me, even though I saw him simultaneously take out several fully trained Wizards on two occasions in our fifth year which means he should’ve been able to cast the hex on me and take care of Draco easily. Next, a number of the Death Eaters left the fight to keep the good guys away from approaching the invisible shield they couldn’t pass and join Draco up on the Astronomy Tower to simply watch him assassinate Dumbledore. But, Draco didn’t have the nerve and none of these watchers did it either. Which is odd in itself, since they’re all a bunch of bootlickers who would’ve loved the opportunity to kill an unarmed and defenseless Dumbledore so that they could gain their master’s favor. They watched dumbly as this ponce,” Harry paused and pointed at Draco, “shock and trembled. All the while, they could’ve easily killed Dumbledore themselves. Then they watched dumbly while Snape ran up and does the job for them and therefore gains their master’s approval. They then initiate their well-thought out escape plan: either run back through the good guys in hopes of returning to the Room of Requirement where they had come in from and use the magical transport device, or run through the good guys and into the Forbidden Forrest - of course they could have just as easily created a Portkey or two of them could have even use the brooms that Dumbledore and I flew on, I mean they were just sitting there in plain sight. But that wasn’t in their brilliantly conceived plan and so obviously they couldn’t do that. Now the major flaw in their well thought out escape plan is that all the good guys were concentrated at the entrance to the stairs of the Tower because of the plan to keep a Death Eater or two at the entrance to fight off all the good guys from approaching the shield they couldn’t pass. So therefore, when the Death Eaters escape; they have to fight their way through every single one of the good guys. If they had simply left their impenetrable shield unguarded, the good guys would’ve known that they couldn’t have passed through it. And since the good guys would need to find another way up the Tower, they would have left the entrance virtually unprotected during their searches. Which would leave the Death Eaters escape route unprotected and they could’ve easily escaped.
