Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Chapter Seven

Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Seven


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 Seven Summary: Brainy birds are naughty!



Harry cursed at himself for his own stupidity as he dashed behind the couch where Hermione had landed. Hermione had simply wanted to see how his love based magic affected his power and Harry had complied. He concentrated on his love based magic and yet, somehow he bollixed it all up. He meant to cast a simple Cheering Charm on Hermione but instead he must have hit her with a Banishing Charm. Harry blew her off of her feet and she ended up falling behind the couch. As Harry rounded the corner of the couch in question, he expected to see the woman he loved crumpled in a heap on the floor. Bafflingly, he found nothing but the floor of the Common Room. ‘Where could she have gone?’ he thought.

Before Harry could continue his search, he heard a soft “whoosh” sound and felt a draft on ‘/Harry, Jr./’ Looking down, Harry saw that his pajama top was still on, but his pajama bottoms had mysteriously dropped down around his ankles, leaving his lower half naked and exposed.

Harry quickly bent over to re-cover himself, and to recover whatever was left of his dignity, when he felt, rather than heard, Hermione run toward him from behind. Apparently, Harry’s naked bum was too good of a target for Hermione to pass up. The wizard yelped as Hermione roughly, painfully, and quite unexpectedly smacked his left arse cheek. Before Harry could regain his wits enough to stop Hermione, she had disappeared again. He was busy rubbing his red bum when Hermione dashed out of nowhere and laid an equally painful thwack to his unprotected right cheek. Harry jumped up in pain at Hermione’s strike. Unfortunately, this jump, added with the fact that his pajama bottoms were still around his ankles, caused Harry to fall to the ground in a very unflattering position: his face was on the ground while his naked posterior was sticking up in the air. This became another opportunity that was too good for Hermione to pass up.

Harry cried out in pain as Hermione delivered powerful smacks to each of his cheeks at the same time. He finally had the common sense to roll over so that he was sitting on his now welt-covered backside. He looked up and saw Hermione swinging from the chandelier like some sort of crazed trapeze performer. How she got up there was a mystery to Harry, but the bigger mystery was how he was going to get her down. Hopefully, he could perform a levitation charm on her.

Standing holding his wand in one hand while hoisting up his bottoms, Harry was very surprised to see that Hermione had disappeared once again. He was staring at the swinging chandelier when he felt a new draft on his bits. Harry looked down to see that his pants were around his ankles again. Having learned his lesson previously, Harry decided not to temp Hermione to spank his bottom by bending over and giving her a target. He figured it be safer to use his magic to lift up his trousers. Harry had only barely pointed his wand at the fabric when he heard Hermione rushing toward him.

“Oh, shite,” Harry was able to groan out before Hermione physically tackled him by throwing her body at his back. Harry ended up on the floor in the same embarrassing position he had just gotten out of: his naked (but now red) arse sticking up in the air. This time however, Hermione was sitting on the back of his head. She was evidently pretending his backside was a set of bongos because she began to slap, smack, and spank his arse very rapidly and with increasing force.

“OW! OW! OW!” Harry cried in unison with the slaps as Hermione began to sing.

“Baba-loo!”

“OW! OW! OW!”

After several dozen paddles Hermione finally stood and commented on her work. “Wow, look at how red that is! I think it’s actually throwing off light! That is sooo cool!”

As soon as Hermione had gotten off of him, Harry once again rolled over so that he was sitting on his red and throbbing bum. Wincing slightly from the pain in his rear, Harry looked up and saw a very flushed Hermione standing him front of him. Although her eye was still red and irritated from the accidental “/ejaculate in the eye/” situation, she had a face splitting grin.

“That was fun!” Hermione declared. Harry noticed that she had very, very erect nipples; they looked as if they were going to poke holes through her blouse. “Okay, my turn!” Hermione then promptly shoved her bottom in Harry’s face and ordered “Go on, give it a good whack!”

“Hermione, I don’t -” Harry began to whine.

“Smack my arse, Potter!” Hermione commanded.

“Fine,” Harry complied and placed a gentle slap to her bottom.

“What the hell was that? Did a fly land on my bum?” Hermione mockingly asked. She lowered her slacks to reveal her milky white flesh and thin white cotton knickers to Harry. The white cotton knickers, which Harry noted, were fairly damp around Hermione’s flower. At first, Harry thought that it was just sweat, after all the witch had been running around the room. But he could have sworn he smelt the musky odor of her arousal. “When I say ‘/smack my arse/’ I mean it. Now spank me!”

“Hermione I don’t want to hurt you,” objected Harry.

“SPANK MY BOTTOM NOW!” Hermione demanded.

Spurned on by her command – and a little fearful of her wrath if he didn’t comply – Harry smacked her tender flesh with a resounding slap, his fear combined with his own sore bottom making him use a great deal more force than he intended.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes,” Hermione chanted through gritted teeth (but still grinning like a madwoman) as she hopped around Harry. “That felt sooo good!” She paused in front of Harry to lower her knickers so that her bottom was completely exposed, a sight that Harry marveled in. Right before his eyes, a hand shaped red welt rapidly developed on her naked bum. “That’s a good one, isn’t it? Now kiss it and make it better.”

Rather than argue, Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her red flesh. Her skin felt incredibly hot under his lips.

“Now rub it,” Hermione ordered.

But before Harry could happily fulfill Hermione’s wish, a soft “/ahem/” from the entrance to the Common Room drew their attention. Minerva McGonagall stood patiently by the entrance while pretending that nothing unusual was happening and she was busying herself by examining something in the corner away from Harry and Hermione.

As quickly as he could, Harry stood and pulled up his pants, covering ‘/Harry, Jr/.’. Harry turned, assuming that Hermione had done the same seeing how her bum was hanging out of her slacks. But Hermione hadn’t. In fact she wasn’t anywhere near Harry. Instead she was doing pirouettes in a circle around McGonagall like a ballerina on a sugar high. A ballerina on a sugar high who happened to have her very pretty, and very bare, arse hanging out of her slacks, mind you.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” McGonagall asked sternly as Hermione, while giggling non-stop, continued to pirouette around the Headmistress. The Headmistress scrutinized Hermione’s puffy red eye as the younger witch spun around her. “Is something wrong with your eye? Were you hit with a Conjunctivitis Curse?”

Hermione paused momentarily from her incessant spinning to answer McGonagall’s question. “Kind of, it was Harry’s own special /Cum-/junctivits Curse.” She then frantically pantomimed the cause, pointing between her eye and Harry’s crotch as if McGonagall needed a visual reference to her crude joke. Thankfully, Harry thought, judging by McGonagall’s skeptical expression, the prim Headmistress didn’t get it. At McGonagall’s questioning look, Hermione felt the need to explain her joke further. “He came in my-” Harry dashed forward and clamped his hand down on her mouth, hoping to muffle the word “eye.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” McGonagall demanded, as a grinning Hermione wrenched herself away from Harry.

“Um… we… we’re… uh experimenting…” answered Harry, ending up speaking very loudly. He had to answer loudly because the still bare-arsed Hermione was now standing on the window seat singing “/I’m a Little Teapot/” at the top of her lungs.

“I’M A LITTLE TEAPOT, SHORT AND STOUT.”

“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” stated McGonagall over Hermione’s caterwauling.

“HERE IS MY HANDLE, HERE IS MY SPOUT!”

“What was that, ma’am?” asked Harry pretending as if Hermione singing a children’s song at the top of her lungs was an everyday occurrence.

“WHEN I GET ALL STEAMED UP, HEAR ME SHOUT:”

“I would suggest that you should stop your ‘/experiment’/ sometime soon,” McGonagall repeated, trying her best to tune out Hermione’s less than dulcet song.

It was at this point that Hermione had decided to veer away from the traditional lyrics of “/I’m a Little Teapot/” by improvising some of her own.

“JUST PUSH ME ON THE BED AND EAT ME OUT!” Hermione also added something akin to a dance move as well; when she “/sung/” the words “… and eat me out!” she thrust her hips lewdly at Harry.

Both Harry and McGonagall stared at Hermione with stunned expressions. Ignoring the stares, Hermione hopped off of the seat and began to do wind sprints around the Room. McGonagall and Harry turned to each other and shared a look that clearly stated that neither one would ever mention Hermione’s song. Ever.

“Ron Weasley has requested to stop by in an hour or so,” McGonagall continued, speaking as if one of her favorite students was not behaving in anything less than a most responsible manner. Only her pale face, due to Hermione’s song, gave away any sort of clue as to her current mindset.

“Ron’s stopping by?” Harry asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, he said you wanted to talk to the two of you,” concluded McGonagall.

Knowing Ron, his idea of a “talk” would include him yelling and perhaps even screaming. The “talk” would also include him accusing Harry of being a glory hound and/or stealing his girl, then making Hermione cry, and then storming off.

Hermione stomped up to McGonagall, threw up her arms and cried out in an overly joyous manner, “I’m so depressed!”

Harry finally decided that it was time to lift the super-powered Cheering Charm off of Hermione. He pointed his wand at her and quickly cast a simple: “/Finite/!”

Much to both Harry and McGonagall’s surprise, Hermione’s ‘jolly’ mood did not dissipate. Instead she attempted to do a cartwheel away from the Headmistress. Her attempt failed and the brunette witch crashed to the ground. The rational part of Harry’s mind felt embarrassed for his girlfriend at her crash. However, the naughty part of Harry’s mind (the part of the brain that has control over most thought processes in most males) liked the way Hermione naked bum jiggled when it hit the floor.

Regaining his composure after being enticed by Hermione’s naked bottom, Harry looked at his wand disbelievingly as Hermione stood up, laughing. Again, he pointed his wand and said, “/Finite/!”

Apparently, the second cancellation spell worked as well as the first, seeing that Hermione still continued to laugh.

“Why isn’t it working?” McGonagall asked.

Before Harry could speculate as to the reasons, Hermione dashed at him and shouted, “Maybe because he’s using the wrong wand!” She then promptly yanked Harry’s trousers down and before he could cover himself up, she grabbed ‘/Harry, Jr.’/ and suggested, “Here, use this wand and see if it works!’

“Good grief!” McGonagall exclaimed as she tried to shield her eyes.

“Hermione,” Harry whined as he tried to push her hands away from his bits so that he could cover them.

“Fine, have it your way spoil sport,” Hermione said as she gave up and let ‘/Harry, Jr./’ go. This of course freed up her hands to do other things, like spank Harry’s naked bottom.

Harry cried out in pain as his bum was spanked once more. He recoiled away from Hermione’s hand but this led to him thrusting his bits in McGonagall’s direction. Thankfully, Harry thought, the Headmistress still had her hand over her eyes.

Hiking up his clothing once more, Harry told McGonagall it was okay to look again. But just as the elder witch lowered her hand away from her eyes, Hermione decided to lower Harry’s bottoms again.

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” McGonagall shouted.

It was at this point that Hermione decided to give the Headmistress a special puppet show, with ‘/Harry, Jr./’ being the puppet. She knelt in front of Harry and grabbed his organ once again.

“‘Hello, Professor McGonagall,'” Hermione said in a gruff voice as she held ‘/Harry, Jr./’ and made him bow in a greeting to the older witch. She was squeezing the crown of the appendage so that his urethra was opening and closing as she pretended that the slit was a mouth and it was talking. “‘I’m Harry’s Penis. How are you today?'”

Harry tried to push Hermione off of him, but Hermione held fast to his member. Because of the slight tugging going on, ‘/Harry, Jr./’ started to wake up to see what the commotion was all about.

“‘Gee, Hermione, can I come out to play?'” she ‘asked’ in her gruff voice as she continued to squeeze and tug at ‘/Harry, Jr/.’ “‘I’ve been lonely for a while.