12Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor

Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twelve: Typical First Date Jitters

Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.

Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!

Chapter Twelve Summary: Harry receives some letters. And Ron goes on a date. Taking his recent luck with witches into consideration, what will go horribly wrong with the date?



The day after the trio destroyed the Horcrux-cup, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in the empty Great Hall eating breakfast and discussing the possible locations of the other relics.

“One down and four to go, including Voldemort,” Hermione said while checking off “Hufflepuff’s cup” from the list she had laid out next to her morning meal.

“Which one do we go after next?” asked Ron with his mouth full of kippers.

“If any,” Harry began after swallowing his food, “we should find the locket. That one shouldn’t have any sort of traps around it. The other Horcruxes will most likely have a bunch of wards and traps around them, if the fake locket’s placement was any indicator. And the last one is Voldemort himself; we have to save him for last.”

“Well, it should be easy enough to retrieve the locket,” stated Hermione. “All we have to do is get Borgin to tell us who he sold to locket to, and then simply convince the new owner to give it to us.”

“Oh, yeah; real easy,” Ron said snidely. “I can see Borgin just giving us that information.”

“We’ll just have to come up with a plan, won’t we?” Hermione replied.

“Let’s hope you come up with a better idea than /’Hi I’m Draco’s girlfriend; could you tell me what he was talking to you about?’/” Harry said sarcastically causing Hermione to blush at the memory.

“That one wasn’t one of your better plans,” Ron added.

“I… I was pressed for time,” Hermione weakly defended.

/”‘Pressed for time’/?” Harry prodded. “This coming from the witch who formulated a very complex plan to trap an unregistered aninamagus reporter and then blackmailed her into not writing for a year unless it was beneficial to us.”

“And let’s not forget,” Ron added, “that you were able to tell a lie, and a fairly convincing one at that, to explain why Harry and me were in the girls’ bathroom fighting that troll right there on the spot.”

“Let’s talk about the unknown Horcrux or the missing one, shall we?” Hermione said rapidly, obviously hoping to change subjects from her unusual behavior and actions from the previous year.

“Fine then, spoil our fun,” kidded Ron.

“The Horcrux were able to find but unable to identify is under the orphanage where Riddle grew up,” explained Hermione. “We couldn’t see what it was in our vision since it was covered. Whatever it is, it mostly is another relic, probably either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.”

“What does it matter?” asked Ron. “We know where it is; why should we care which founder it belonged to. Let’s just go, get it, and cut it up.”

“Good point,” agreed Hermione. “Let’s move onto the missing Horcrux-“

“It’s me,” interrupted Harry. During Hermione and Ron’s short conversation on the orphanage-Horcrux, Harry’s blood had run cold.

“It’s you?” asked Ron.

“Yeah. When we did the ritual, the first thing I saw was my body lying on the bed,” Harry explained sadly. “That means I must be the missing Horcrux.”

Ron dropped his head as Harry’s words sunk in. However, Hermione was smiling brightly, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just implied that he would need to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort.

“And how did Voldemort make you a Horcrux?” Hermione asked calmly.

“It was probably an accident when he killed my mum,” snapped Harry. He didn’t like that his girlfriend was taking this revelation so lightly.

“So when Voldemort killed your mother, he accidentally removed a fragment of his own soul and placed it into you,” Hermione repeated. “All it takes to make a Horcrux is to kill someone?”

“I dunno,” Harry responded with bitterness.

“So you’re saying that Voldemort has only killed six people in his life,” continued Hermione.

“What? Are you crazy?” hollered Ron. “He’s killed loads of people!”

“Yeah, Dumbledore even said that he killed enough people to make an army of Infiri,” added Harry. He was a bit perplexed by Hermione’s statement; how could she think that Voldemort, the most feared Dark Wizard of their time only killed six people?

“But you said that he accidentally made you a Horcrux when he killed Lily,” explained Hermione. “If making a Horcrux was as simple as killing someone, he’d have a lot more than just seven Horcruxes if we including his own body.”

“What do you mean?” a very confused Harry asked.

“I don’t know how a Horcrux is created, but there must be a very complex spell or ritual needed,” explained Hermione. “Think of it; if creating a Horcrux was as simple as using a Killing Curse, Voldemort would have divided up his soul hundreds of times. If it was that easy, every single Death Eater would have dozens of Horcruxes themselves. No, there has to be some sort of complex ritual associated with it. Otherwise, every single Dark Wizard in history would have had scores of Horcruxes, wouldn’t they?”

“But that doesn’t explain why our spirits were just floating over our bodies when we did that ‘locate missing items’ ritual,” Harry argued.

“Harry, when we were just floating up there, what exactly were you focused on?” asked Hermione. “Was it the Horcruxes?”

Harry paused and tried to remember what he was thinking of when he and Hermione’s spirits had been hovering in mid-air. After a second of silence, Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. However, she didn’t cross them in her usual manner. Normally, when she crossed her arms, Hermione would place them around the middle of her chest. But this time, she placed her arms across the lower part of her chest, causing her arms to push up her wondrous mounds. Harry immediately lost his train of thought and simply stared at her boobs with his mouth open.

They were such lovely things, all round, soft, and warm. They also had ‘Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ on them which Harry so enjoy playing with. His mouth began to water at just the thought of fondling her breasts and caressing them while he placed gentle kisses on her flesh.

“You were focused on her tits?” Ron asked, noticing Harry’s stare. Apparently, Harry had become so mesmerized by Hermione’s boobs, and Hermione had enjoyed teasing Harry so much, that a good amount of time had passed since Hermione had posed her question.

Harry shot up – he had hunched over the table in an attempt to get closer to Hermione’s boobs- and Hermione dropped her arms. Both of them were blushing madly. Ron chuckled at his friends’ embarrassment and picked up another kipper.

“Ahem, anyway…” Hermione continued as if she hadn’t just partially fondled her own breasts to arouse her boyfriend in front of her platonic friend. “You weren’t focused on the Horcruxes at the time, so we were just in a sort of holding pattern, if you will. Once we both concentrated on the actual items, we started the search.”

“But that still doesn’t make sense,” added Harry. “We only found four of them.”

Hermione worried her lip and thought for a moment before stating; “Maybe we’ll have to do the ritual again and check our findin-“

“OKAY!” Harry shouted gleefully. Any opportunity to frolic with Hermione was good enough for Harry. He shot out of his chair and offered, “How about now? Let’s do it now!”

With a look, Hermione indicated Ron, who was looking at the couple as if they were very strange and that he didn’t really understand them. The thought of Hermione’s delicate hands wrapped around ‘Harry, Jr.’ enticed Harry so much that he had forgotten about Ron. With a shrug of her shoulders, Hermione told Harry that she couldn’t do the ritual and give him a hand-job (which was significantly more important than the ritual in Harry’s mind) if Ron was around. In a split second, Harry came up with an ingenious plan that couldn’t fail. He would definitely get that hand-job now!

“Do you want to fly my Firebolt?” Harry asked Ron much like someone would ask a dog if they wanted a bone. The Ron/dog analogy was further strengthened when Ron sat up in his chair with his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth in anticipation. “Do you?” repeated Harry. “Do you?”

In response, Ron nodded his head rapidly and passionately. Harry figured if his friend had a tail, it would’ve been wagging back and forth right then.

“Then, go get it!” Harry said and pointed in the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower and his Firebolt.

Ron sprinted out of his chair and ran full tilt out of the Great Hall. The gangly teenager fell twice, tripping on his large feet before he made it successfully out of the Hall.

“Well, I guess we can do the ritual now,” Hermione said with a bemused smile and a glow to her cheeks.

“What ritual?” asked Harry. He had gotten rid of Ron so that Hermione could play with – “Oh, yeah, right, the ritual,” finished Harry as he finally remembered that there was a ritual that required Hermione to give him a hand-job.

“You know, I’ll have to find a ritual that has you give me pleasure,” stated Hermione as she stood up.

Harry closed his eyes and imagined a snake before saying in Parsletongue, “I thought I already found one?”

Hermione shivered at Harry’s hissing words. She composed herself and conceded, “Well, there is that one.”

Harry held out his hand and Hermione took it. But before they could head off to a secluded area, Hedwig flew into the Great Hall.

“Oh, here comes Luna’s reply,” Hermione said as Hedwig landed in front of Harry. “Do you mind if we read this before we do the ritual?”

“No… not at all,” Harry responded, forcing the little voice in his head that demanded “//HAND//- //JOB/ //NOW//!”/ to the back of his mind. “Knowing Ron, he’ll be on the Firebolt until dinner.”

Hermione smiled at Harry and removed the post from Hedwig’s leg and read aloud.

“Dear Hermione,

I would so love to meet with you. I will be at my father’s printing press shop (the barn behind our house) later today. Please stop by whenever you can. Just use the floo and say The Quibbler.

Luna”

/”That’s great,” announced Harry. “We’ll head there right after the ha… ritual,” Harry had to fight to say /”ritual” instead of “hand-job.”

/ /”I’m certain all you care about is using the ritual to locate the Horcruxes,” joked Hermione. It was obvious that she knew what Harry’s slip truly meant.

“Of course I am,” Harry said. “If there was another way to find the locations of the Horcruxes besides the ha… the ritual, I would do it.”

“That’s good, because I found another ritual the other day that doesn’t require us to get naked or even touch each other. It was in an innocent book in the library,” Hermione said and began to stroll out of the Great Hall.

It was like someone had slapped Harry hard in the face. Here he was, all happy about getting a hand-job, he had even devised a plan to get Ron out of the way, but now he wasn’t going to get it. Harry felt very, very sad. He looked after his girlfriend with his mouth opening and closing mutely, as he tried to force himself to tell her that he wasn’t serious about doing any other ritual besides the one that included a hand-job. But he was too sad to even speak.

“I’m just kidding, you know,” Hermione said with a naughty grin.

Harry was offended; how could she do this to him! Tempt him with a hand-job and then take it away, then to claim that she was joking. He had half a mind to give a good talking to her about teasing him…

Then, for the third time in Harry’s memory, Hermione licked her hand, and that same half of a mind that wanted to chastise her suddenly started making very faint mewing sounds.

“Here, boy, do you wanna play?” Hermione playfully asked. Apparently, she too thought that Harry had treated Ron like a dog and decided to give Harry a taste of his own medicine. “Do you want little Hermione to give you a hand-job? Do you?” she mocked.

Of course, Harry really didn’t care that his girlfriend was pretending that he was a dog. All he cared about was the offered hand-job. He skipped like a school boy over to Hermione. She gently patted his groin with her now damp hand and said, “You do want one don’t you?”

“Damn right I do,” Harry replied with absolutely no shame.

“Have you been a good boy?” she asked. Harry detected a hint of/ “naughty-Hermione”/ in both her tone and her eyes, so he figured that he would reply in a manner that “naughty-Hermione” should appreciate.

“Hell no,” he breathed. “I’ve been bad.”

“Really? Just how bad?” Hermione inquired and began to rub ‘Harry, Jr.’ through his trousers.

“V-v-very,” Harry answered while simultaneously gulping and squeaking.

Hermione got up on her toes and took Harry’s lower lip between her teeth and growled as she playfully tugged at his mouth and gave his crotch a proper squeeze. ‘Harry, Jr.’ sprang to life and begged Harry to do the ha… the ritual right there at the Gryffindor table so that it could play right now.

Stroking his length through his trousers, Hermione let go of Harry’s lip and purred; “You are a bad boy, aren’t you?” The mixed look of love, lust, and desire in her eyes made Harry almost climax right there in his boxers.

Harry considered agreeing to ‘Harry, Jr.’ and do the ha…