J K Rowling - [Harry Potter 0X]

by Harry Potter

  ***

  That night, in the safety of their chamber, where none of the weird activity of their peers could interrupt them, Harry and Hermione were again reading. Harry read a book on Quidditch while Hermione continued to read the Tantric rituals book. The bespectacled wizard liked it when Hermione read the ‘special book,’ as it usually meant they were going to try something exciting. “This is a very interesting ritual,” Hermione commented as she read over a small section in Harry’s ‘special book.’ “What does it do?” the raven haired wizards asked, not looking up from his homework. He was trying not to lose his cool over the idea that Hermione had just found an interesting segment. What he wanted to do was shout “Let’s perform the ritual!” not really caring what it did, but that would make him look desperate. And a touch sad. “It’s called the ‘Morgy Ritual.’ It can cause pain through magical connections, such as the Dark Mark,” Hermione summarized. “All we have to do is draw this channeling symbol, and then either write down the name of the magical connection, or draw a symbol of that connection, and then have sex.” “So basically we’d draw the Dark Mark, indicating our targets are Death Eaters, and then have sex,” Harry recapped. “Yes,” Hermione agreed. She continued to explain the ritual; “If we perform the ritual with ‘mild intensity’ it will cause the targets to feel a slight pain, something like a bad itch. But a heightened intensity will cause the targets incredible pain; akin to the sensation of being on fire.” “So a tussle in the sack will make everyone baring the Dark Mark feel pain?” asked Harry. “Yes.” “And the more intense the sex, the more pain the Death Eaters will feel?” “Um,” she paused and quickly rechecked the text. “Yes.” “Well then, Miss Granger, prepare for several screaming orgasms,” Harry said and tugged his robes off in a manly fashion. In the process, the wizard managed to tear the clasp off of his robes. He would have to use a Stitching Charm to reattach it later. But at least the action looked manly. A rosy bloom graced the witch’s cheeks in anticipation. Deftly, Hermione flicked the clasp on her robes open. Unlike Harry, she didn’t tear anything, meaning she wouldn’t have to waste her time sewing things like he would. “Just how many screaming orgasms?” she asked while slowly unbuttoning her blouse. “As many as it takes,” he replied and lowered his trousers. “This is for justice after all. Dealing out punishment to the wicked and whatnot is my duty.” “Did you say ‘punishment to the wicked’?” Hermione asked coyly while still undoing her top. “Because my bottom is still a little sore. And even though I am ‘wicked’ and I like ‘punishment’ I think we should wait a while for another spanking.” “Gotcha, no spankings,” Harry said and he began rapidly unbuttoning his shirt. He had decided not to do the manly thing and tear it open; he really didn’t like sewing. “I’ll just stick to using my parsletongue abilities.” Harry dropped his underwear and stepped out of them while Hermione slowly opened her blouse. ‘Harry, Jr.’ grumbled about fair-play; here was Harry, completely naked, and Hermione still had her skirt and bra on. And, added to the penis’ ire, the ‘special book,’ lovely and wonderful as it was, was still on her lap. That meant it was blocking one of ‘Harry, Jr.’’s favorite entrances, damn it! Ignoring his appendage’s impatience, Harry continued to toy with his girlfriend. “How many climaxes do you think it’ll take to deal out punishment to the Death Eaters?” “Like you said, as many as it takes,” she said, running her fingers over the edges of her cotton bra. “Well, then, I’ll just have to do my best,” Harry boasted, hopping in place in eagerness. “I reckon that I’ll pleasure you so much that my tongue will be numb by the time I’m finished.” Hermione bit her lip. Her blush deepened as she said, “You’ll be talking like Seamus then.” “Sacrifices have to be made for justice. What’s a little numb tongue compared to punishing evil Death Eaters?” With a gleeful expression, Hermione went to move the tantric magic book off of her lap. When her eyes fell on the text, the witch’s eyes grew wide and her joyful demeanor disappeared in a flash. Recognizing that look, Harry asked “What is it?” “I misread it,” Hermione practically whimpered. “It states we need more than two.” “And I plan on giving you more than two,” Harry said with naked pride. “In fact, I plan on giving you so many that you lose consciousness. And I’ll probably continue to give you more when you’re asleep because I’m feeling frisky right now. It’s for justice after all.” “No, Harry, not multiple orgasms, multiple partners,” Hermione corrected. Harry blinked once. “Oh.” He blinked again and asked, “By multiple you mean more than you and me?” “Yes. To achieve the itching sensation in our targets I told you about, we would need a ménage à trois.” “Manage a what?” asked a perplexed Harry. “A threesome, Harry,” Hermione pointed out. “For a burning sensation akin to a bad rash, we would need four people. And for the target to feel utter pain, we would need at least six participants.” “Oh,” Harry repeated. Causing pain to every marked Death Eater was appealing. Perhaps there was a way around it. “Maybe we can get Ron and Luna to join in,” he offered. “Excuse me?” Hermione asked, clearly offended. “You know, Ron and Luna can use the spare room while we’re in ours,” explained Harry. “We’ll just put up some silencing charms so we don’t hear each other.” “You misunderstand, Harry,” she replied. “By multiple partners, the book said we have to share in the ritual.” “Meaning?” “Meaning once Ron and Luna, and then you and I had our go, we would need to swap partners,” Hermione said with thinly veiled annoyance. “Which means you’d have to have sex with Luna and...” she punctuated these next words as if they were the most important part of her argument; “...I would have to sleep with RON! EWW!” “They’re our friends and I love them,” admitted Harry. “But I don’t ‘love them’ love them.” “RON! EWW!” “They may have seen us have sex through Pensieve memories,” Harry continued. “But this would be entirely different. And different in a bad way.” “All that red hair.” “I don’t mind sharing some things, but there is a point where sharing becomes too much.” “It would be like shagging a circus clown.” Harry looked at his lover. “He’s still our friend. We don’t need to be cruel.” “Circus clown,” she stated factually. “He already has the orange-ish red hair and abnormally big feet. All he needs to finish the ensemble is a red-rubber nose.” “You don’t seem all that upset over the notion of me sleeping with Luna in this little scenario,” Harry dared to point out, hoping that Hermione would take it for the joke that it was intended to be. “Well she isn’t a clown like Ron, is she?” Hermione replied. “Besides, what would you do with those enormous tits of hers? Honestly? Each one is bigger than your head. You wouldn’t know what to do with them.” “I’d use them as a pillow,” he said with a naughty smile. “A big, soft, warm pillow.” “We could both use her breast as pillows,” Hermione snorted a laugh. “You sleep on the left one I’ll get the right.” The couple shared a belly laugh at the thought. After a moment, Hermione became more serious. “It’s too bad though about the ritual. It would’ve been nice to make those lousy Death Eaters suffer.” “Can’t we still do it?” asked Harry. “Just ourselves mind you. I mean with both of our power boost, we should be able to perform it.” “No, in this case, the participants’ power level has no effect on the ritual,” Hermione said with a pout. “In fact, according to this, some of the people could even be squibs and the outcome would still be the same.” “Shame that,” Harry said, trying to look like he was deeply disappointed. The curled up edges of his mouth ruined the affect. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to give you several screaming orgasms just for fun then, justice be damned.” With that, Harry leapt on his lover and tore at her skirt. A few scant minutes later, the first of many “OH SWEET BABY MAEVE!” was heard.

  ***

  Later that week, Harry had come up with a rather brilliant plan. He had decided to perform the Wit Enhancing ritual that Hermione had created and then, once he was recuperated, they would do the han - err - searching ritual. This was brilliant for two reasons; first, he believed that with the temporary boost in his intelligence, he’d be able
to deduce where the missing Horcrux was hidden. And second, this plan was brilliant because it involved two different sex acts, which were always fun. To prepare for the Wit Enhancing ritual, Hermione warmed up by stretching so that she could hold the awkward position needed for it. And Harry warmed up both himself and his lover for the ritual by kissing, licking, and suckling Hermione’s various bits. After shouting the proper incantation of “Maximus Intellegentia!” when his climax hit him, Harry felt the wave of magic pass through him. He knew that the ritual had increased his intelligence because as he waited for his stamina to return, he and Hermione speculated that the cooling weather this season would make the skins of Mandrakes particularly thick, making the plants overly bitter and angry. An hour or two after performing the Wit Enhancing ritual, Harry and Hermione started the han - err - other ritual. A few seconds after Hermione began to massage Harry and while both teens chanted their separate incantations, they felt the now familiar sensations of their spirits leaving their bodies. Once again, astral-Harry and Hermione dove through the air and ended up in the darkness. Unfortunately, their increased intelligence shed little light on the darkness. In fact, while they hovered in the inky blackness, the two lovers discussed the esoteric ramifications of the color black and what it various meanings meant for mankind throughout the ages. Despite the fact that they weren’t able to discern the location of the missing Horcrux, Harry suggested that they attempt the ritual again immediately upon returning to his body. “You just want me to give you another hand-job,” Hermione said in a reproachable fashion. “Yes,” he replied with all honestly. He then went on to lecture on the numerous health benefits of an active sex life.

  ***

  A few days later, after the effects of the wit enhancing ritual wore off, Harry and Hermione made their way to their chambers after their lessons had ended for the day. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find Remus waiting for them in the Head Students’ common room. “What’s up, Moony?” he asked as Hermione shut the door. “I’m sorry to bother you two,” Remus said apologetically. “But something rather curious has come up.” “What is it?” asked Hermione. “Do you believe in reincarnation?” the older wizard asked sincerely. “I’ve never really given it much thought,” Harry said. “I’ve read some books on the subject,” offered Hermione. “Well, prepare to be amazed,” Remus stated and he opened the door leading to Harry and Hermione’s room. Slowly, little Sirius, Remus’ son, came out of the room. The infant didn’t crawl; in fact he walked upright, on two wobbly legs. “He’s not supposed to do that,” Hermione said to Remus. “Sirius is too young to be able to even crawl, much less walk.” “Then I guess I shouldn’t be able to talk either,” the infant said in a squeaky voice. “What the hell is going on?” Harry asked in shock as he stared at the talking infant. “Harry, Hermione, I’m Sirius,” the baby stated. “Yes, we know that,” Hermione said. “No, not ‘Sirius, Remus’ son,’ I’m Sirius, Remus’ old lover and Harry’s godfather,” the baby corrected. “You can’t be able to talk,” Hermione balked. “Wait... Sirius was gay?” Harry asked in disbelief. “I thought he was a ladies’ man?” “No, we only referred to your father in that way,” Remus pointed out. “Never once did we mention our sexuality to you, Harry. Not because we weren’t proud, but because we were private.” “Wait, you’re gay?” Harry asked Remus again. “The proper term is bisexual, but yes, I’m gay,” the older wizard answered. “Having a Metamorphmagus as a wife really does have its benefits, especially in the sack.” “Hey, remember me,” the baby waved his chubby little arm to get everyone’s attention. “I’m the issue here, not the fact that Remus liked to slob knobs.” “Crude as always,” Remus criticized, rolling his eyes in disapproval. “I could remind a certain someone in this room that he used to particularly enjoy my crude language, especially when that certain someone and I were locked up in dark and cramped broom cupboards, but I won’t,” little Sirius commented. “We need to find out how this happened.” “The baby is talking!” Hermione said in shocked disbelief while pointing at Sirius. “Well, that’s the point. But, I’m not a baby, not really,” little Sirius said. “I’m Sirius Black. I went to school with Remus, James, Lily, Wormtail, and Snape. I fought in the first war as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, was betrayed by Wormtail, chucked in Azkaban, escaped, met you, Harry, went on the run, then got locked up in Grimmauld Place, fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. The next thing I know, I’m getting pushed out of my cousin’s womb. How’d this happen?” “The baby is talking!” Hermione, still in shock, repeated. “Hermione, I need your brains right now,” Remus said and it seemed to draw the brunette witch out of her stupor. “You’re one of the brightest people I know and I need you to figure out what happened.” Clearly bolstered by Remus’ compliment, Hermione snapped to attention. “So, he’s Sirius?” she questioned. “Yes, he has all of Sirius’ memories and experiences,” Remus summarized. “I don’t know if it was because of that ritual you and Harry tricked us into doing, or the fact that I’m a werewolf and Tonks’ is a Metamorphmagus. Or even a combination of different things that caused this.” “Wait, wait,” Hermione demanded. “I read some cases of reincarnation. But I have never heard of one where the person has retained all of their memories from their past lives. It’s never happened.” “Well, it happened to me, Hermione,” Sirius said. “But it’s not possible,” she countered. “The cases I read stated that sometimes a few vague memories may remain, but nothing like what you’re describing. You must be mistaken. Surely you can’t be Sirius.” A tiny, impish grin appeared on both Remus and the baby, as if they had been expecting Hermione’s comment. With his squeaky voice, little Sirius uttered “I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.” Harry paused a second before saying “Wait, I’ve heard that before. On the telly I think.” Hermione turned and faced Harry. It was clear by her expression that she was about to ask him what he was talking about when realization suddenly dawned upon her. “Oh, you cheeky bastard!” Hermione cursed at Remus. She pointed an accusatory finger at the older wizard and loudly scolded again, “Cheeky bastard!” “Shh, you’ll wake the baby,” Remus said between peals of laughter. “Oh, yes, Hermione shouting will wake up the baby, not his father laughing like a baboon,” Tonks sarcastically commented as she walked out of Harry and Hermione’s room. Bundled in the pink haired witch’s arms was a smiling baby Sirius. Harry’s eyes darted between the two copies of baby-Sirius. He asked, pointing to the baby in Tonks’ arms “If that’s Sirius, then who’s that?” and pointed at the one standing next to Remus. “That’s Courtney, under polyjuice,” informed a still laughing Remus. “She begged to be part of a prank against the two of you. How could we refuse?” “Can I sit down now?” Courtney said in the baby’s squeaky voice. “I haven’t any bloody kneecaps thanks to being an infant, and it hurts to stand.” As the polyjuiced Auror plopped down on the ground, Harry shot a disbelieving look at Remus. “You brewed polyjuice, which takes a month to do, just to pull one of the oldest and most clichéd jokes in the world?” “Yes!” cheered Remus. Obviously encouraged by his father’s laughter, the real Sirius began to chuckle. Well, actually, he made more of gurgling and spitting sounds, but you could tell that he was trying to laugh along with his dad. The cute sounds that the real baby-Sirius was making lightened Harry’s and Hermione’s moods. “I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of brewing polyjuice just so you can prank us with the ‘Sirius-serious’ joke,” Hermione guffawed. “If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” Remus said proudly. “What I don’t get is the whole gay thing?” asked Harry. “Adding elements of the truth in a prank always heightens the realism of it,” Remus responded. “Wait, you really are gay?” Hermione asked, taken back slightly. “As I told you before, I’m bisexual,” corrected Remus. “Not before you met me, you weren’t,” Tonks interjected. “You only liked blokes until I came along.” “So you and Sirius were a couple?” Harry asked, ashamed he hadn’t realized. “Yes, we were,” Remus said with a pleasant smile. “We we
re lovers but we broke up over a tiff we had shortly before Wormtail betrayed us all. Then we reconnected after the year I taught at Hogwarts. And we reconnected several hundred times while he was locked up in Grimmauld Place.” Harry experienced a moment of happiness. He realized that he was happy with the thought that at least his godfather had some comfort before he died. “So that comment about Tonks’ metamorphmagus abilities being a benefit was true?” Hermione asked tentatively. “Yes, Hermione. Not only can I change my appearance, I can change my plumbing too,” Tonks said with a smile. The pink haired witch walked up to Hermione and confided; “You gain a whole new appreciation for how much blokes love blow-jobs when you can grow a willy and have it sucked on.” “Oh,” uttered Hermione as she blushed a deep ruby red. “I don’t mean to be a pest, but the polyjuice is about to wear off,” Courtney said. “And seeing how I’m only wearing a nappy, I’ll be pretty much naked. Now, I know how kinky Hermione and Harry are, but I don’t want to give them a show.” “Alright, we’d better leave then,” Remus said. After saying their goodbyes, Harry and Hermione were left alone. “So, what should we do now?” Harry asked. He was hoping Hermione would ask for suggestions to which he’d offer “How about you bend over the desk...” but unfortunately, Hermione stated; “I have to head to the Library and study.” She scooped up some parchment and quills. “Professor McGonagall offered me some extra credit and I’m taking her up on it.” “But, your grade is around one hundred and eighty percent already. Why do you need extra credit?” complained Harry. “It never hurts to get on Professor McGonagall’s good side,” Hermione stated. “Her good side? Merlin, Hermione, McGonagall loves you so much right now I’d bet she has you in her will.” “Maybe you should learn from my example,” Hermione challenged. “You could always boost your marks up a bit. How about you join me and we both can get some extra credit?” “No,” he said automatically. “I’ve been reading and studying all day long. It’s time for a break.” “Fine, it’s your loss,” Hermione said and made her way out of the room. Harry grumbled. He was looking forward to making love with Hermione. So much so that ‘Harry, Jr.’ was stirring from his slumber. The organ was slowly risingand asked where Hermione was. For a moment, Harry considered taking the issue in hand - literally - and alleviate himself. But he had a girlfriend now and therefore he shouldn’t have to do this solo anymore. Grumpily, Harry flopped down on the couch. A loose piece of parchment sticking out of one of Harry’s books on Quidditch caught his eye. He remembered that he had written down something and placed in a book back when he was under the effects of the Wit Enhancing ritual, but like all things he learned or thought during that time, Harry had only fuzzy recollections. Curious as to what he had written, Harry reached over and pulled the paper out of the book. It was a note, in his hand, addressed to himself. It read; “Dear Harry, Since you cannot remember things that occurred clearly, I have written this note. I had a wonderful idea for a charm, and thanks to the boosted intelligence I received, I created it. I have not told Hermione about this spell because I want it to be a surprise. It is called Loninquitas Amorus. I won’t go into detail how I created or how it works because I know how feeble your mind is...” Harry paused in his reading. Had he just insulted his own intelligence? As if he had somehow predicted this question back when he wrote the note, the next line stated; “Yes, I just insulted your intelligence, get over it. Now back to the charm; the name Loninquitas Amorus literally means ‘Distance Love.’ Basically, with this spell, you will be able to pleasure Hermione from a distance. There is no physical contact, penetration, or liquid exchange. Hermione will only experience sensations and feelings. Just purse your lips in a kiss and imagine that you are kissing her and Hermione will have the sensation of actually being kissed. The same applies for foreplay; if you move your fingers about while focusing on Hermione’s ‘flower’ she’ll get the sensation of being stimulated. Same tactics apply to oral sex; work your tongue while pretending to eat her out and she’ll get the sensation. Sex is even simpler than anything else. The technique you’ll need to perform this part of the charm is something you’ve been practicing for years; masturbation. While you’re wanking yourself, imagine that Hermione is wrapped around your organ instead of your hand. The incantation is Loninquitas Amorus if you haven’t figured that out already. The necessary wand movements and spell intents are fully detailed on the second sheet of parchment. Yours... or rather ‘me’s,’ Harry.” A nasty smile stretched across Harry’s face. He got up from the couch and fetched his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to the Library. He reckoned it was high-time to test out this new charm. Once he was close to the Library, Harry slipped into a classroom. There, he cast a Silencing Charm around himself, jotted down a quick note, and tossed the Invisibility Cloak over his body. With the combination of Cloak and the Silencing Charm, no one would be able to see or hear Harry as he performed his new charm on Hermione. Well except for Moody’s Magical Eye, and he wasn’t anywhere near the library, so it’s the same thing. Walking into the Library, Harry noted that it was rather crowded. A group of fifth year Slytherins was in the Divination section, while two sixth year Ravenclaws were browsing Ancient Runes. And located next to the table where Hermione was doing some light reading (only four books at the moment) was nearly a dozen second years from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, huddled around a large tome. Pince, the Librarian, was scuttling from group to group, making sure no one was up to any shenanigans. Silently, Harry slinked up to Hermione and placed the note he had just written on the book she was reading. When he pulled his hand away, it must’ve looked like the note popped into existence to Hermione. Before reading the scrap of paper, Hermione looked around, trying to find Harry, obviously knowing that he was hiding under his Cloak. Giving up on trying to find her lover, Hermione read the note. “I created a new charm and I’m going to test it out. Just try and remain quiet. Love,