by Harry Potter
With a lopsided grin, Harry said, “I’ll owl you the first chance I get.”
He waved his wand over the bag, shrinking it and its contents to the size of a matchbox. Giving his former housemate and Quidditch partner a wave goodbye, Harry walked out of the shop.
~*~
That night, Harry, Hermione, and her parents had a special dinner made up of ham and all the trimmings. Like the last time he had visited the Grangers, Richard, Fiona, and Hermione had wine whereas Harry was only allowed milk.
Harry and Hermione were asked (okay, ordered) to sit at the opposite ends of the table. These spots, traditionally held by the parents, were given to the young lovers, clearly to put as much distance away from one another.
Throughout the dinner, Richard continuously glared threateningly at Harry while the older man stabbed and speared his food as if subconsciously trying to stab and spear Harry in effigy. Fiona did a bang up job of pretending that Harry wasn’t there much less even alive.
Remembering his mistake of not eating his meal the first time he visited and how upset Richard was, Harry forced himself to eat. As he ate his meal, Fiona (whose back was turned to Harry) was having a pleasant conversation with Hermione.
“Have you learned anything exciting, dear?” she asked her daughter. “I do so love some of the things you can do with magic.”
Hermione brightened. A smile graced her lips, one that her parents seemed to believe was sweet and innocent. However, Harry had come to realize that the particular smile Hermione had meant that was preparing to do something naughty. He gulped in fear.
Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket, waved it around almost theatrically, and incanted ““Loninquitas Amorus!”
“eep,” murmured Harry. Being the creator of the spell Hermione had just incanted, Harry knew what was about to happen and knew that he was about to enter a whole world of trouble.
“Nothing happened, dear,” Richard commented.
“Oh, silly me, I messed up the incantation,” she said and her not-so-innocent smile widened. She waved her wand again and said “Saltatus Candelabrum!”
The two candle-sticks that adorned the table jumped in the air and began to spin and dance two feet above Richard and Fiona’s heads.
“That’s simply lovely,” Fiona said in wide eyed wonder. Richard, was transfixed as well, nodded his head in agreement.
While her parents’ attention was on the flying candle-sticks, Hermione snatched a pad of butter with her left hand. Before she lowered her hand and hid it under the table, Harry could see her fingers flexing into and relaxing from a fist, spreading the smeared butter over her palm and fingers.
Harry shook his head and silently begged Hermione with a pleading look in his eyes not to continue with her plan. If her parents discovered what she was doing, they’d certainly be furious. The twinkle in her eyes told Harry that he was a dead man.
Then, he felt it. Harry could feel Hermione’s greasy fingers stroke his flaccid organ. Thanks to the charm Harry himself had created (the Long Distance Love Charm) Hermione was beginning to give him a magical hand-job from six feet away. Despite his fear and dread of being discovered by the elder Grangers, Harry’s penis was more than eager for a romp. It didn’t matter to ‘Harry, Jr.’ what dire trouble was going on; the walls could be crumbling down around Harry’s ears and ‘Harry, Jr.’ would be up for a go with Hermione. He could feel his member grow and swell, stretching down his trouser leg. Much like how a snake burrows in the earth.
Richard’s attentions snapped from the candles to Harry. At first Harry had feared that Hermione’s father had discovered that his daughter was using magic to stimulate Harry and that the young wizard had a raging hard on as he sat at the table. At any moment, Harry expected Richard’s hands around his throat.
“So, what are your intentions with my daughter?” he demanded.
“Sir?” asked Harry. Hermione took this awkward opportunity to give Harry a squeeze. In Response, Harry sat bolt straight in his chair.
Evidently, Richard took this motion that Harry was being polite and attentive, not that his daughter was magically playing with the boy’s cock. “I asked; what are your intentions with Hermione? Do you plan on dumping her now that you’ve gotten into her skirt?”
“Daddy,” chastised Hermione. Clearly, she wasn’t overly upset with her father’s attitude because at that moment, she gave Harry a long, firm stroke. All the way from the base, up to his crown, and back down again.
“No, Hermione, your father and I have the right to know,” Fiona insisted and finally turned to face Harry.
“Can you at least be gentle with him?” asked Hermione as she rolled her thumb over ‘Harry, Jr.’s head.
“Just for you, princess,” her father agreed. Obviously, he was still wrapped around his little girl’s pinky on some level.
Smiling, Hermione moved her other hand so that it too disappeared under the table. The next second, Harry could feel Hermione’s hand massaging his testicles while the other continued to slowly stroke him.
“Well, sir... and ma’am...” Harry fidgeted in his seat. Beads of sweat popped up all over his face. Luckily, the Grangers assumed that he was sweating because he was in the hot seat so to speak, not because Hermione was wanking him. “I intend to marry her.”
“What? Now?” asked Richard while chuckling in a mocking way.
“You’re a bit young to get married,” added Fiona. “You’re not just saying that in hopes that we’ll accept your relationship are you?”
Harry bit his lip. He knew that Hermione was getting off on this, making him so uncomfortable. And the only way she’d stop was when he climaxed.
“Please cum,” Harry muttered softly, praying this would end soon.
“What was that?” Fiona asked.
“Um... err.. no, ma’am. I will marry her... just not now... come when we have things settled... jobs and whatnot,” Harry said, trying to recover from his slip of the tongue.
“Well, what would you say if we won’t accept that you want to marry Hermione?” Richard asked.
Harry was having difficulty not only speaking coherently, but also from not overtly fidgeting in his seat. Hermione was stroking him at a slow and agonizing rate. He felt almost compelled to thrust his hips forward, to urge her to pick up her pace.
“Not really your choice,” Harry said boldly. Well, it would’ve been bold if he had comprehended what he was saying. He was so focused on the hand-job and not alerting Hermione’s parents to it that he didn’t fully comprehend just what he was saying beyond not blurting out ‘Your daughter’s rubbing one out of me.’ “I’ll marry Hermione whether you like it or not.”
Both Richard and Fiona were visibly taken back. If Harry had not been so preoccupied with the magical hand-job, he would’ve wondered if the elder Grangers had done so because they were impressed with his bravery or if they had taken offense at his brashness. On the other hand, Hermione seemed to be impressed by Harry’s words because she began to rub him faster. If their attention had not been so fixed on Harry, Richard and Fiona would have been perplexed by Hermione; her hands were moving so fast that she was rocking her arms.
“She is my sunshine,” Harry muttered, still not comprehending what he was saying. “I live for her.”
Fiona’s expression suddenly softened whereas Richard demanded of Harry “Why are you glowing?”
“He does that when he thinks about pure love,” Hermione said with a rosy bloom to her cheeks. She was grinning from ear to ear, as if basking in the golden light. “Harry’s power comes from love and whenever he focuses or thinks about true love, he throws off light. It makes anyone in the light feel good and happy, even loved. I saw him turn a foul painting into a... well, she became nicer... well less of a bitch.”
“Oh,” Richard asked as his expression softened like his wife’s. For a few moments, Richard and Fiona shared an understanding look. Finally, Fiona offered; “Well, maybe we’ve been a little too rough on you.”
They may have come to this conclusion because they accepted Harry and Hermione’s love (on a very small scale, mind you, a scale that included no touching) or because the glow that Harry was throwing off made them feel happy and therefore a little more forgiving.
“OH THANK GOD!” cried Harry.
“Now don’t get ahead of yourself, young man,” Richard said sternly while wagging a finger at him. “We still aren’t giving you permission to fool around, especially under our roof.”
As his loving glow subsided, Harry nodded his head in acceptance. To be honest, he hadn’t cried out because of what Fiona had said. He had done so because he had finally climaxed and shot his load down his trouser leg. But Hermione’s parents didn’t need to know that.
“Let’s clear this up,” Fiona said while gesturing to the dinner plates, “so that we can move onto dessert.”
“I’ve got it, mum,” Hermione said and waved her wand. With a small whoosh sound, the plates took to the air and flew into the kitchen. Another flick of her wand and a chocolate cake floated out of the kitten and glided on the table.
“Oh, that looks wonderful,” Richard said in appreciation of the cake.
“Hermione made it,” Fiona said as she began to cut up the dessert.
Harry gave Hermione a questioning look. He knew for a fact (thanks to her failed attempts at making a cake for Ron) that Hermione could not cook. In response, Hermione gave Harry a look that told him that she cherished what he had said about how he felt for her and that she would show him this appreciation by shagging his brains out in a short matter of time. It really didn’t answer his question of whether or not she had made the cake, but he didn’t mind - especially since he was about to get his brains shagged out.
After giving out equal portions to all at the table, everyone began to dig in. The first bite told Harry that a House Elf had made it (it was far too moist and delicious for Hermione to have made), perhaps Dobby. Within a very short time, Hermione’s parents had started on their second helpings.
“I really shouldn’t,” Fiona said as she scooped up a forkful. “But it’s so delicious.”
Harry had to agree; it was a very good dessert. But under the chocolate, he could taste an odd flavor he didn’t normally associate with chocolate cake. It was by no means unpleasant, but it was unexpected.
With a clank, Hermione’s parents dropped their forks after they finished their second helping onto their empty plates. They looked at each other with dark and heavy lidded eyes.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Fiona said breathily. Slowly, she rose up from her seat and sauntered to the hallway, swaying her hips as she went. As she walked away, Harry noticed where Hermione had inherited her wonderful bottom from. The older Granger woman turned and looked at her husband. “Care to join me, Richard?”
“Um, yes,” Hermione’s father nearly sputtered his response. He stood and Harry had to avert his eyes. Apparently, Richard had liked the cake so much that he had become aroused.
Richard began to follow his wife out of the dining room when he stopped and said to Hermione and Harry “We’re turning in early. This doesn’t mean you two are allowed-” he began to lecture when Fiona called out:
“RICHARD, GET UP HERE NOW!”
Completely forgetting what he had been planning on saying, Hermione’s father dashed out of the room and his footsteps thundered up the stairs. A second later, Harry heard a door slam shut.
“What the hell is up with them?” Harry asked. Then for some unknown reason, ‘Harry, Jr.’ started to wake up again. He was about to congratulate himself on his virility when he saw the knowing smile on Hermione’s lips.
“What did you do?” he asked, knowing that she was up to something.
Hermione took her time to answer. She ate another bite of the cake, working it slowly in her mouth. While she chewed, Harry felt himself rise to his full hardness.
“You spiked the cake?” he asked.
“No, I had Dobby spike it,” she corrected. “While you were shopping today, I popped over to Hogwarts and had Dobby whip up this dessert. Knowing that mum and dad were a little tense, I added something to help them relax.”
“What did you add?”
“A few dosages of Lust and Stamina Potions,” she said with sweet innocence. “They’ll be going at it like Ron and Luna on an all night sex romp.”
“Wait, we ate the cake too,” Harry pointed out.
“Well, I guess that means we’ll be going at it like Ron and Luna as well.”
“Good point,” agreed Harry. “Let’s head to your room.”
Walking up the stairs while ‘Harry, Jr.’ was more than ready to play was a little painful and downright uncomfortable. The organ kept getting pinched as he climbed the stairs. The loud moans coming from Hermione’s parents’ room told Harry that they weren’t about to stick their heads out to see who was coming up the stairs. So, to alleviate his discomfort, Harry paused and freed his friend.
“My, I think I may have used a little too much Lust Potion,” commented Hermione wryly as she looked at the organ jutting out of her boyfriend’s trousers.
As they passed the room where Richard and Fiona were making love like sex starved teens, Hermione magically locked their door. Once they were in Hermione’s room the brunette witch waved her wand again, casting a Silencing Charm.
“You were a bad witch down there,” Harry said. “Wanking me off in front of your parents and then spiking the desserts. Very bad.”
“How bad?” she asked. By the look in her eyes, Harry could tell that she was ready to pounce.
“Bad enough to be punished.”
“I had hoped so,” she said, smiling. “Will I be paddled?”
“No.”
“No?” she asked with a shocked expression. “I think I deserved to be spanked. In fact, I demand it.”
“Too bad,” Harry said flatly. “I have a different idea for punishment.”
Harry pulled his wand out and conjured a big squashy chair. As he sat down, Hermione asked “Is my punishment going to be in the form of a blow-job?”
“No, you will get on your bed and pleasure yourself,” Harry informed. “While I watch.”
“How about you masturbate while I do the same,” she offered. “That way I can see you pleasure yourself as I pleasure myself.”
“And if you hadn’t been a bad witch I’d happily agree to that,” Harry returned and crossed his legs. He was trying to look reserved and sophisticated, an added visual element to the whole scenario. But having his naked and erect organ jutting out of his lap somewhat ruined the effect. “You were naughty, and this is your punishment.”
“Have it your way,” Hermione shrugged.
She crawled onto her bed and slowly removed her top. Her skirt was next to be flung to the side after being removed. One glance and Harry was able to confirm the Lust Potion Hermione had spiked the cake with was affecting her as well; her nipples threatened to poke through her bra and a wet patch could easily be seen on her knickers. After discarding her bra, the brunette witch teased her nipples.
“I bet that you won’t be able to hold out; you’ll jump me in less than five minutes,” she dared while tracing circles around her hard nubs with her fingertips.
“You’re on,” he replied, taking the challenge. “If I win - and by win I mean I won’t wank myself or jump on you until after you cum - I get to do whatever I want to you for the rest of the night.”
“Within reason,” Hermione said, giving her nipples a pinch.
“What do you consider ‘within reason’?” he asked, resisting the urge to help Hermione tweak her nipples.
“I don’t want to be hanging halfway out the window shouting ‘Fuck me harder Harry, fuck me harder!’ or anything like that.”
“Gotcha, no dangling out of windows,” Harry agreed. “What if you win?”
“I watch you masturbate,” she said and then added; “And if you win - which you won’t - you definitely can’t take me
into the hall and bang me while I’m leaning up against my mum and dad’s door.”
“I think you’re stalling,” Harry stated. His girlfriend was about to protest, but he clicked his fingers and ordered, “Enough dawdling, start fingering ‘Miss Nibbles.’”
Her fingers hooked around the sides of her knickers and she tugged them down. In a slow and deliberate tease, Hermione dragged the tips of her fingers all over her lower half without touching any of the fun parts. She was smiling, knowing that it was driving Harry mad.
Sitting on his chair, Harry watched with a mask of bemusement; which was rather difficult for the young wizard. What he wanted to do was shout at Hermione “WOULD YOU STICK A FINGER IN ALREADY!” He knew, however, that if would do this, it would just egg his lover on and she would continue to tease him until he lost his cool and jumped her; thereby losing the bet. So he forced himself to sit there, watching in a false patient manner.
“Oh God,” Hermione breathed out when her fingers (‘finally’ thought Harry) brushed against her clit. She began making circular motions with her forefinger on the bud. The wicked smile that had been adorning her face disappeared. It was now replaced with a slack mouth and half-shut eyes.
As he watched (which he was doing very intently), Harry saw that Hermione was very turned on. He pondered whether this was so because of the Lust Potion or if his girlfriend really liked being watched. As Hermione pinched her clit, he came to assume that it was the latter.
While Hermione slid a finger in, ‘Harry, Jr.’ looked up at Harry with a tear in its eye. The organ was begging Harry to get up from the chair and give Hermione a hand... or better yet; a penis. Harry tried to console his member and say that he had a plan and if they played their cards right, they could have a lot of fun with Hermione. But ‘Harry, Jr.’ was impatient and it wanted to have fun right then, Harry’s plans be damned. Harry almost caved when Hermione took her free hand and pushed her middle finger into her bottom. The happy squeal she made nearly shattered his resolve.
When Hermione asked, between rapid pants “Touch yourself, Harry,” the wizard slipped and he placed his hand on his member. His need for her had grown desperate. But he screwed up his courage and let go of ‘Harry, Jr.’. He wanted to be in win this bet.
