"He cheated! I don't know how, or in what way, or– or– or anything! But I'm sure it's true!"
Pansy had given up on her usual nightly routine. She was just too mad. Her skin care products were scattered around her on her bed, while the mirror she typically used lay on the floor after she plucked it from the air and dashed it at her mattress. It wasn't like her to raise her voice, but right now she couldn't help it.
Ronald Weasley chased off a mythical beast? Ronald Weasley defeated the mysterious terrorist even Dumbledore struggled against? Ronald Weasley saved the school?
She couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. The blood traitor could barely pass potions, let alone accomplish stunning feats like some kind of dashing handsome hero. Pansy inhaled sharply to continue ranting, only for someone to cut her off.
"If you utter one more overly-loud protestation about that ginger-headed scarecrow, I am going to silence you if I have to use my wand to do it," said Daphne. The Greengrass heir was attempting to read from a textbook— something Pansy's voice was absolutely ruining.
"But—"
Daphne shut her book with a resounding clap.
"First of all, we all saw what happened," Daphne said. "That lion-like beast certainly fled, and Ronald Weasley was in front of it when it did. Second of all, what if he cheated? We are Slytherins, Pansy. Cheating is what we pride ourselves on. Or is it only cunning when we exhibit it?"
"Yeah! You tell her!"
The Slytherin fourth year girls collectively jumped. Somehow, without any of them noticing, Harry Potter had appeared again with a bed of his own. He was laying on his stomach with his head facing the footboard, kicking his legs behind him. It all created a fierce sense of deja vu for the last time he appeared from nowhere, except now he was dripping head to toe like he just crawled out from the sea.
"You're looking… wetter than when I saw you last," said Tracey Davis.
"Thank you!" Harry said. "It's an artistic choice symbolizing what happens between beautiful women's legs when they lay eyes on me."
Pansy Parkinson picked up her bottle of salamander cream and hurled it at his head. With reflexes that had traumatized Slytherin House ever since Harry Potter stepped on a Quidditch pitch, he caught the thrown object easily. After taking a look at it, his face wrinkled with disgust.
"I told you last time!" he said. "I don't want anything to do with Peruvian Salamander Cream. I'll only go near the Amazonian stuff." He threw Pansy's improvised weapon away over his shoulder, incidentally headshotting Milicent Bulstrode, who frowned and rubbed her broad brow.
"So you're back," Daphne observed.
"Sure am!" Harry said.
"Why?"
"Can't I check in on the roomies?" Harry rolled around and sat up. "How are you feeling, Pansy? Getting nervous?"
"Lightning only strikes once, Potter," she said, raising her pug nose.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," he said. "And the rest of you? How's life?" When nobody answered, he shook his head. "What's with those looks? Can't we just have a girl's night without any drama?"
"I have a question," said Daphne.
"If it's the meaning of life, all I can say is, 'Blubber warts.' You'll have to figure out the rest on your own."
Daphne frowned. "It is not. And, for the record, you are the last place I would turn for such wisdom."
"Ouch."
"I simply wish to know why you'd make that sort of bet with Pansy?"
Daphne leaned forward. She was wearing silk pajamas that were modest when it came to her body, but brought out the best in ice-blue eyes.
"Because it sounded fun," Harry said.
"That's it?"
"Hey!" He sounded genuinely upset. "There's nothing minor about doing something for fun. I'll have you know that's the reason for everything I do."
Daphne arched a blond eyebrow, whilst the rest of the room began to feel they'd been forgotten. "Truly?"
"Cross my heart and hope I didn't lie," Harry said. "If that wasn't how I operated, why do you think I'd take the risk of being in a steamy friends-with-benefits relationship with Fleur Delacour? If I didn't love doing her so much, she'd have sucked me dry and turned me insane by now. When I catch wind of doing something fun, I don't hesitate! Even if it almost got Lavender and I caught on the Hogwarts express… Or if it includes accidentally taking a professor's virginity… Or doing Fleur under an invisibility cloak right beside the Slytherin table."
"I knew I smelled sex!" Tracey muttered.
"I'll… keep that in mind," Daphne said.
She was renowned throughout the school for her composure, but even she couldn't keep a pause out of her voice after a declaration as shameless as the one Harry just made. Then again, if you were routinely shagging Fleur Delacour, you just had to find ways to work it into casual conversations if you have any kind of pride.
"Come on, do you really believe that?" Pansy asked. "Even Draco couldn't get Fleur to pay attention to him. Do you think she'd crawl into bed with Potter?"
The other girls all traded a look.
"Yes," said Daphne, Tracey, and Lilith. Millicent stayed silent, but that mostly seemed to be out of politeness toward Pansy.
"It probably didn't help having his lonesome inch plastered across the front page of Britain's biggest Newspaper," Harry added innocently. "I think the headline was longer than Draco."
Tracey snorted while Pansy fumed.
"So, Harry," Tracey began, "Lavender, Fleur, and a professor? How did you manage all of that?"
"It's two professors now, actually," Harry said. "Plus Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones, Alicia Spinnett, Su Li…" He shrugged. "I do have a good time."
Tracey leaned forward. "The question is, do they?"
The brunette witch was like a different person compared to the defensive rebel Harry met while interviewing half-bloods. Her hair was messier, her brown eyes had a much softer expression, and her smirk was enticing. Her pajamas consisted of a large shirt and shorts that were loose and tight in wonderful ways.
"They've never complained," Harry said.
"Not even once?"
"Not yet," Harry said. "Their only issue is when we finally stop. If they're still conscious, anyway."
"Big talk."
"That's not all that's big."
Lilith and Millicent were watching the exchange like a tennis match. Daphne kept her eyes just on Harry, still looking thoughtful. Pansy, however, huffed.
"You can't seriously be buying this!" she said. "He's full of crap."
"I'm not," Harry said. "But if you want to check for yourself, go ahead and try."
He leaned back, supporting his weight with his hands behind his torso, and spread his legs. The water dripping off of him dried, as did the sheets underneath him. There was a moment of silence as the girls considered his offer.
"Millicent!" Pansy said. "Go and check!"
For the first time, real fear appeared in Harry's eyes.
Millicent Bulstrode was an interesting girl. A half-blood like Tracey, she was effectively the female Crabbe or Goyle of Slytherin. Instead of Draco, Millicent followed Pansy's orders as well as she could, using her large body to bully other students when necessary. She also happened to have a face that looked like a child's first attempt at drawing a troll.
Millicent started to stand up, willing to take on this challenge if Pansy ordered it, only to suddenly slumped over sound asleep. Harry had used his magic wandlessly — fueled by pure panic — to ensure she wouldn't be able to follow through. As soon as he saw her sleeping, he let out a deep and relieved sigh.
"What in Merlin's name? Are you narcoleptic now?" Pansy complained. "Now who will do it?"
"Are we taking volunteers?" Tracey asked.
She crawled to the edge of her bed, slipping off and sauntering across the room. She stopped just in front of the bed, crossing her arms.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" she asked Harry.
"Come and find out," Harry teased.
Tracey crawled onto the bed. As soon as she got close enough for it, Harry's arms encircled her, pulling her toward him and squeezing. His hands went right to Tracey's assets, one squeezing her bum and another fondling her chest. Despite her bravado, Tracey was caught off guard by the force he kissed her with. Something his fingers did caused her to melt against Harry's body, turning to putty in his hands.
Harry wasn't done. He twisted Tracey around, managing to smoothly remove her shirt. The white bra underneath held her medium-sized breasts in a way that was neither risqué nor conservative. Harry pushed Tracey down on her stomach, his body pressing onto hers from above. His hips grinded against her loose shorts. He brushed aside her hair, biting Tracey's neck. Tracey immediately became a moaning wreck, her eyes widening with panic. The position he had her in left her facing Lilith bed, and Tracey stuck out a desperate hand that clawed the air.
"Backup! Please!" she pleaded.
Lilith Moon was a petite girl with long curly brown hair and a smattering of freckles. She was known for being quiet and shy despite her house, leading many to theorize about the scheming mind she must've possessed beneath the veneer. Right now, however, her hazel eyes were frightfully wide. On shaking legs, she stood up and approached.
"Tracey, stop screaming like you're in Playwitch!" Pansy snapped. "You'll make his ego even more insufferable!"
It was as if Tracey couldn't hear her at all, which was a very real possibility with how the girl was moaning. By the time Lilith got close to the bed, Harry had Tracey's shorts and panties pulled down, his face buried against her arse. Tracey pounded the bed with an open palm from what Harry's tongue was doing to her. Lilith froze, looking stunned as she stared at what was unfolding in front of her.
Pansy felt something deep inside her crotch that was deeply uncomfortable— not because of the sensation itself, but because of what it represented.
"I'm going to bed!" she declared. "I won't watch something like this!"
She pulled her blankets over herself and turned away, staring at the wall. If only that were the end of it.
Taking her eyes off of them somehow made every noise sound ten times as loud. Tracey's moans pinged off of the walls around them. Pansy could hear slurping as Harry put his mouth to work. As Tracey's voice rose an octave, there was no mistaking what was happening. Listening to her roommate cum her brains out, Pansy squeezed the blanket with her fingers, bunching her hand into a fist.
"Your turn," Harry said. "Get those clothes off."
The rustling of fabric signaled that Lilith had pulled off everything she was wearing. Immediately after, the bed squawked as she joined Harry and Tracey. Harry himself must've gotten naked as well, because there was only one thing he could've meant when he said, "Suck it."
Lilith slurped, gagged, then coughed. While she hacked up a lung, Tracey filled in for her, taking a turn on Harry's dick. Pansy could tell which of them was sucking based on the way their mouths sounded. The noises were so wet. Pansy's hands unclenched, sliding deeper underneath the blanket.
Millicent was sleeping peacefully and Daphne was watching without any visible emotion. Lilith and Tracey were clearly occupied. No one would notice if Pansy… With just one finger…
"Alright, you two," Harry said. "I expect you to share now."
There was a splattering sound— quiet, but Pansy's ears caught it all the same. She pictured Harry's cum glazing her roommates' faces. What would it look like? Her fingers slipped underneath her panties, touching herself, and soon Pansy's own quiet moans joined the louder ones from her roommates.
Soon Lilith was screaming. No one at Hogwarts had ever heard her raise her voice before, but as Harry plowed her she screamed until her vocal chords turned hoarse. At the same time, Tracey was whispering assurances to her, telling her she could take it and similar things. The girls seemed to have formed a cohesive alliance in the face of Harry's skills. Rather than competing with each other, they'd chosen to use teamwork to wear him down. It remained to be seen if that would be enough.
Pansy added a second finger to her snatch. She started to kick her legs slightly, panting as she masturbated to the sounds coming from behind her.
Harry abruptly changed over to Tracey. Whatever position he put her in made the bed squeal and its legs thump loudly against the floor. Pansy could hear him slamming against Tracey's arse.
"I didn't know I could stretch this much!" Tracey said. "Is it all fitting inside? How is it all inside? Ahh~"
Her moans increased in volume, as did the frequency of the impacts. Pansy heard kissing. Lilith had recovered enough to keep Harry's mouth busy, attempting to distract them. A new moist noise joined the cacophony as Harry started to finger her without missing a beat.
Pansy's moans grew so loud that she had to cover her mouth with her other hand. Her fingers felt better than they ever had, she was so turned on. What was this? Was this what Gryffindor boys were like?
What had they been missing all this time?
Her pussy contracted. In addition to muffling herself with her hand, she had to bite down on her lip hard enough to draw blood just to keep from screaming like Tracey was. Moisture rushed between her fingers and trickled down her knuckles, staining her sheets. Pansy felt her body shake. Pleasure filled her for at least ten seconds before it faded.
But the noises hadn't faded. She thought Harry might have switched positions (and possibly partners) but she was too frightened to look. If just the sounds had her this way, that might be more than her self-control could handle. So Pansy kept herself from rolling over, evened out her breathing, and did her best to actually go to sleep now.
She lasted five seconds before three fingers were shoved inside her snatch.
O-O-O
Harry grinned as he felt nails scratching his back. Lilith was clinging onto him for dear life. She was a cute girl, short in height and petite in build. Her breasts and bum were both small, but she was skinny with nice hips, so they were still plenty alluring. As Harry repeatedly pushed his hips down, straining the springs of the bed beneath them, he could feel Lilith's pussy squeezing him. She was just as tight as you'd expect from a girl of her size.
He couldn't help shifting his attention to the other side of the bed for a moment. Tracey Davis had certainly found her answer to whether he was any good in bed. She was propped against the headboard… just the wrong way round. Her neck was bent and the back of her head was on her mattress, her arse was pushed against the headboard's wood, and her legs were spread. Cum was running down her stomach from where Harry pulled out, dripping onto her face and collecting in her hair. She was clearly smiling, although it seemed she'd fallen asleep. Or passed out, given the uncomfortable position she was contorted in.
A deafening wail drew his attention back to Lilith. The freckled girl was struggling to keep her eyes open. She puckered her lips, waiting, and Harry accepted the offer, kissing her. As soon as their lips touched, Lilith came, bathing his dick in her juices. Harry gave a few more piledriver-like thrusts before grunting and pulling out. He lifted his hips high enough that this dick slid free from her snatch, spraying his cum across her flat tummy. Lilith's fingers dragged along his body, leaving a last set of red scratches before going limp.
Harry pulled himself off of her, sitting back, and sighed. He conjured a glass of chilled water for himself, drinking deeply before wiping his lips.
"Fun show?" he asked.
Daphne Greengrass was sitting in her bed in the exact same position as she had been when they started. Considering Harry, Tracey, and Lilith had gone at it for at least an hour, that was impressive. Millicent was asleep, and Pansy was buried in her blankets, but Daphne just watched. The entire time.
"It was certainly enlightening," Daphne said.
"You could have touched yourself if you wanted. Nobody would've judged you."
"Please." Daphne wrinkled her button nose. "I'm not Pansy Parkinson."
The bundle of blankets on the next bed over jolted. The black hair sticking out ducked lower and burrowed in, hiding a pair of burning cheeks.
"So, did you see what you were hoping for?" Harry asked.
Daphne was silent for a few seconds. Although she typically looked cold, Harry thought he could see something else in her now: apprehension. There was a very noticeable pause before she answered.
"I think that I just might have," she said.
Harry smiled. "I'm glad."
She stared at him a bit longer, then lay down and pulled a blanket over herself. The lights went out. When the Slytherin girls awoke in the morning, Harry and his bed were gone. Tracey and Lilith had been cleaned up and tucked snugly into their own beds. It was to the point that Pansy pretended he never visited, and Tracey and Lilith would've thought they imagined everything, had it not been for their pronounced limps all morning. Millicent didn't remember anything at all. Only Daphne recalled what happened in perfect detail, and it gave her plenty to think on. More and more she was becoming certain.
Harry Potter was the one she needed.
O-O-O
Harry blinked. He considered rubbing his eyes, but held back out of principle. It seemed rude toward his best friend to disbelieve what he was seeing too strongly.
"How long has this been a thing?" he asked.
Ronald Weasley couldn't answer himself because he was currently being fed grapes. Parvati was sitting on one side of him, Ron's arm draped over her shoulder, while her twin sister Padma sat on the opposite side, cuddled up under Ron's other arm. Both the girls were giggling softly. After feeding him cut up slices of pancake for the last fifteen minutes, they had moved on to giving him grapes by hand.
"Since last night." Ginny didn't even try to keep her disgust out of her voice. "Parvati and Padma apparently confessed to him… at the same time. Ron said yes to both, because he's mental. And they accepted because they're just as mental."
In a gap between the grapes, Ron sighed dreamily. "Being a hero is the best."
A sudden spark entered Ginny's eyes. She twisted toward Harry, who was sitting beside her. "You know, we've got some grapes over here too—"
The soft, curvy body of Fleur Delacour wedged in between them as the French witch arrived, squeezing up against Harry.
"I could feed you grapes if you like, Harry," she said. "Or, if they're more to your liking, I've got melons as well."
She pushed her chest toward him, propping up her breasts. Behind her, Ginny scowled and turned away, balling her hands into fists while sneaking a glance at her much flatter chest.
"Maybe later, Fleur," Harry said, quickly pulling food onto his plate. As lovely as her boobs were, he was hungry for something he could actually eat— and he was starting to worry that if he didn't hurry, he'd be interrupted before he could get any.
Surveying the rest of his friends, Harry discovered Hermione buried in a book. That was nothing unusual, but something seemed different this time. She was scribbling on a sheet of parchment in her lap, sketching formulas and shapes before hastily scribbling them out. Every few minutes she'd growl like a Nundu and flip a page. When Harry leaned over, he saw that it was an Arithmancy book.
"What's this about, Hermione?" he asked.
She waved him off with a hand the way you might treat a common pest. Dean Thomas reached around Hermione, poking Harry's shoulder and pointing toward something above the entrance.
Four large hourglasses hovered there, each one filled with a different color of gemstone. They represented house points, allowing students to keep track of the race for the House Cup. Yesterday, Gryffindor and Slytherin had been neck-and-neck, Ravenclaw just behind, and Hufflepuff a distance behind that. Now, an enormous stack of sapphires sat in the Ravenclaw hourglass, twice the height of Gryffindor and Slytherin's piles.
"Did someone in Ravenclaw solve Lycanthropy?" Harry asked in disbelief. That had to be at least three-hundred points earned in one go, maybe more.
"Not Lycanthropy, just an equation," Dean said. "A previously unsolvable one, according to Professor Vector. She couldn't believe her eyes. It wasn't even a person in her class, too, but someone who wandered by and stuck their head in. The Professor swears this is going to be in every textbook in a few years."
Someone from Ravenclaw had wandered by and pulled something like that? It couldn't be… But it had to be—
"Ahem!" A ringing sound called everyone's attention to the staff table as Dumbledore tapped his fork into the side of his goblet. "Attention, all! There is a short announcement that I'm extremely proud to make." Four owls fluttered down, carrying a package between them. Dumbledore untied it and pulled back the wrapping. Lifting out a gilded frame with a shiny medal inside of it, he beamed and said, "Would Luna Lovegood please come here?"
Luna stood up at the Ravenclaw table, approaching the staff table without hesitation. When she reached Dumbledore, he handed the plaque over, and she accepted it after tilting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.
"To honor a stunning contribution to the field of Arithmancy, offered at a startlingly young age, it is my pleasure to award you with an Order of Merlin Third Class!"
"Thank you, Professor." Luna accepted the metal with a very small smile. "I only did what I thought was best."
Slowly, applause filled the Great Hall, led by the Hufflepuffs who were happy to see someone other than a Gryffindor or Slytherin doing something impressive. Ravenclaw quickly followed, and even a lot of Gryffindors clapped. Hermione shut her book with a bam.
She growled and tore the paper she'd been working on in half. It was full of calculations— her fruitless attempts to solve other unsolvable Arithmancy equations like the one Luna did. Harry, who'd been one of the first Gryffindors to start clapping, found himself dragged from his seat as Hermione grabbed his wrist. She stomped out of the Great Hall, pulling Harry along.
He thought she'd gotten a bit better yesterday during the first task, seeing her put down her studying to watch Ron compete. But unfortunately, it seemed this achievement of Luna's was too much for Hermione. She marched the two of them out of the Great Hall, up two flights of stairs, and only stopped in a corridor where no one was around to hear them.
"You did something to Luna!" she said. "It's like she's changed into a completely different person overnight, and it all started after the two of you snuck away by the lake!"
Harry rubbed the back of his head, not sure how to deny it. "Well, when you put it that way…"
Hermione was on a roll. So much so, in fact, that she seemed to take no notice of what she was doing. She used her grip on Harry's wrist to push him against the wall beneath a portrait, shoving her face deep into his personal space.
"I'm the smart one!" she said. "That's always been my thing! I can't lose that… so do it to me too!"
Harry's brain ground to a stop. "What?
"Whatever you did to Luna, do it to me too," Hermione repeated slowly. "And I'm not letting this go until you do!"