Categories > Books > Harry Potter


by Alorkin

Just a little bit of silliness combined with some over the top smut. Harry/Hermione/Tonks threesome Might be cliche`, but I can't see how. Definitely AU!

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Erotica,Humor,Parody - Characters: Harry,Hermione,Tonks - Warnings: [X] [?] - Published: 2009-09-10 - Updated: 2009-09-11 - 8302 words - Complete


Disclaimer. Obviously, as I cannot even afford a decent Dictionary program, I am not J. K. Rowling and I own nothing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (et al). That privilege goes to the talented and lovely J. K. Rowling, to whom I am eternally indebted, both for a fascinating read and for many bedtime stories for my daughter.

Disclaimer : This story is so NOT HBP compliant! it sequel, Deadly Horrible, clearly demonstrate that even talented and lovely authors can make (hideously ugly) mistakes.

A/N: I wish to thank my sister, FireLemming, for her beta work. She doesn’t even follow the Harry Potter fandom, preferring TLK, and yet, will take time to offer much needed (and often unappreciated) critical advice.

Hermione wandered into the hospital wing to see her friend, Harry. He lay on his usual bed, being tutted over by Madam Pomfrey. As soon as he saw her, he fought his way to his feet, despite Poppy’s protests. When she saw what Harry had, she joined his concern with her own.

“Miss Granger! What happened? How did you hurt yourself?” She passed a wand over Hermione’s form, and breathed a sigh of relief as she found nothing life threatening. Harry, on the other hand developed an instant difficulty in properly breathing as the wand gently caressed Hermione’s nicely formed breasts. He turned from the enticing view and resumed his seat before either Hermione, or more importantly, due to the reaction such a view usually caused, his own body, noticed. He didn’t see Hermione’s knowing smirk. She’d pressed her breasts against the wand knowing full well, how it would affect the reserved boy. Madam Pomfrey also smiled, knowing the unspoken love shared between the two.

“You just sit right next to mister Potter and I’ll get you fixed up straight away.”

“Hermione! What happened?”

“Somebody from the Slytherin stands hit you with a spell and knocked you off your broom, remember? Personally, I think it was Snape. He was sitting with the snakes today rather than with the teachers as usual. You should have seen the look on Malfoy’s face when you caught the snitch on the way down.” Hermione leaned over and kissed Harry’s cheek softly…lingering just a bit longer than was strictly ‘proper’.

“Hermione, I…I…I meant, what happened to you?” The flustered Harry asked. She’d rarely kissed him, and only then, as a sort of send-off. Here, she seemed to ‘mean it’. Harry brought that line of thought to an abrupt end, because he didn’t want to embarrass himself when ‘Harry the Younger’ began to take notice.

Hermione Granger, never one to pay unnecessary attention to her appearance was more than thoroughly mussed…she was downright disheveled! Her hair, usually unruly, seemed to have joined in on a full-on riot! Her face was bruised, scratched, and she sported both a blackened eye and a nasty bruise under it. Her uniform was in no better condition, as it had several hex marks and burns and more than a smattering of blood.

“Oh, this. Nothing to worry about. When you fell, I saw one of the Slytherins had summoned your Firebolt, so I went to ask for it back. They refused, of course, and I’m afraid I had to…‘insist’. I might have pulled a few muscles in the process. I gave the broom to Neville before I came up here.”

“And the Slytherins?”

“Oh, them.” She said dismissively. “Snape will be carting them along in a moment.” Turning now to the school’s matron, Hermione continued. “Madam Pomfrey, you might want to get a few more beds ready. You’re going to be having some guests for a while.”

“Is there anything in particular I should be expecting?”

“Oh, nothing serious. Multiple contusions, and abrasions, several lacerations, some minor fractures…oh, and two wands imbedded.” Hermione’s recital was delivered with all the emotion of a grocer’s list.

“Imbedded? How? Where?” Poppy was confused by the reference. Hermione just smiled slightly with half-lidded eyes. Suddenly Poppy realized exactly where the wands might be ‘imbedded’. She flushed beet-red, before turning away.

Harry started to laugh. He also understood what the ‘imbedded’ part meant. Knowing what was certain to come, he plucked up his wand from the bedside table and settled it on the sheet beside him.

Poppy Pomfrey had seen her share of bloodshed in her many years at Hogwarts, with the inevitable courtyard scraps that teenaged witches and wizards got into. Harry Potter was a special case for her. He managed to end up in the hospital wing more often than any other student, usually through no fault of his own. She’d seen even more, before she came here. She’d seen cocky and even vicious bullies crowing about the people they’d thrashed, but never in her memory, had she seen such a dangerous victor as the quiet, confident girl sitting before her. She followed her orders, for orders they were, and bustled to her office for the supplies she felt certain she was going to need.

It wasn’t long before Snape’s nasal tones rang through the hallways as he approached the hospital wing.

“…and she attacked my students without provocation, Headmaster! She should be expelled, if not sent to Azkaban!” Snape whinged as he entered. He was floating three injured and unconscious Slytherin students into the infirmary, while four more hobbled in under their own, considerably reduced, power. Each of them looked much the worse for wear. Harry knew, from Hermione’s smirk, that she was responsible for each scrape and bruise. Malfoy and Parkinson, both mewling in discomfort and humiliation, appeared the most ‘affected’. Harry felt certain that he knew which of the Slytherins had had their wands ‘imbedded’…and where! He smiled in delight at the knowledge.

“What are you smirking at, Potter. I swear, you are just like your father…”

“Spare me, your whinging, Snivellus. After you tried to kill me, your little band of junior Death Eaters stole my Firebolt and Hermione went to get it back before they tried to destroy it. They attacked her. She merely dealt with the lot of them as they should be, single handedly, I might add.”

Snape whipped out his wand (no, not that wand, the magical one!) a nasty spell on his lips, when Hermione snap-kicked her right foot into his hand, smashing several of the slender bones there, and sending the wand flying through the air. Harry discretely pointed his own wand and directed the flying tool into the fireplace where flames began to hungrily devour the slender, well-polished shaft…of wood. Of course, Snape didn’t know that at the time, or he would have raced to protect the precious artifact. As it was, he was just then, being re-introduced to Hermione’s right shoe, as she completed her series of whip-fast, hand-and-foot strikes. He fell to the flags, quite unconscious and bleeding heavily from the mouth and nose.

“Wow, Hermione! That was great! Was that Karate?” Harry positively gushed. Madam Pomfrey simply stood aghast, that a mere student could do so much damage with nothing more than hands and feet. The twinkling one stood immobile in shock.

“No Harry. That was Tang Su Do. I already have my belt in Karate. I got into TSD when I decided I needed a less formalized and more effective self defense program. The other martial arts are mostly for the competition circuit. Each has its advantages in street fighting, but I think TSD uses the best combination.


“Oh, yes. I’ve been studying the martial arts since I was three. I have multiple black belts in Judo, Aikido, TaiKwanDo, and Karate.”

“Then how did Bulstrode…?”

“Oh, that. I found out later, that Snivellus there, hit me with a confundus spell just before that ugly troll attacked. Since I was actually expecting them all to follow the rules…”

“Silly you!” Harry interjected, earning himself a glare. He pretended terror and Hermione grinned. She continued her narration.

“Anyway, since then, I’ve been constantly on the lookout for that sort of dirty dealing, since the headmaster, here, abjectly refuses to do anything about it.”

This accusation was what Dumbledore needed to finally break through his own shock. The doddering old fool asked: “Miss Granger, was that completely necessary?” He gestured at the broken-nosed spy laying unconscious and bleeding on the infirmary floor.

“Well, I suppose I should have killed him outright.” Hermione answered, running a hand through her untamable hair. She sighed in frustration and returned her gaze to her headmaster. Dumbledore paled.

“Of course, that would have rendered your spy on Voldemort somewhat ineffective, not that he’s all that effective as it is, so I decided to let him live…this time. Understand this, though, the next time I am attacked by more than two opponents, or by any teacher, I will use deadly force.”

“Miss Granger, threatening to kill someone, particularly a professor, is hardly a wise move, nor is beating him into unconsciousness, especially in front of the headmaster of the school you attend. I could easily have you expelled, for such.”

Harry joined in. “I’d think very, very carefully before doing that, Headmaster, because if Hermione goes, I’ll go as well. I’m pretty certain I can arrange for acceptance into Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang. Even if those schools don’t accept, there are more than a hundred schools throughout the world that would be more than happy to have us. In fact, I have a standing invitation to teach both defense and flying at Salem and since Hermione is an expert in just about everything else, I think I can wriggle an invite for her too!

As for being a professor, Snivellus is hardly a teacher. He’s a bully and a coward of the lowest order. With your cooperation and license, he has tormented me, and my friends since the day I arrived, and for no other reason, but that I look like my father. He ridicules and unfairly chastises any Hogwarts house but his own, and actively teaches his serpents to cheat, lie and steal and sabotage others, preparing them for service to his real master…Voldemort. I’m willing to bet that when they take their marks he’ll volunteer to teach them to torture, rape and murder as well. He prepares their potions before class, so his favorites, Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson and the other Death Eater spawn can spend their time trying to sabotage the Gryffindors’ potions. Malfoy couldn’t brew a potion if his life depended on it. Neither Crabbe nor Goyle can even read…or tie their laces, for that matter. How did they manage to get into a NEWT level potions class that requires an ‘O’ on the OWL’s to enter?

Behind Dumbledore, a furious Poppy was tending to Snape. After hearing what she had, she’d cast several spells including one to make his bruising both more visible and more painful, and another to resist magical healing. She woke him with a negligent flick of her wand and turned to see to the Slytherins. Since neither Draco nor Pansy was in any real danger, she decided to treat them last. Instead, she began her work on Nott. Although she knew the five students before her, each carried the dark mark, Dumbledore had ordered her to ignore the evil sign. She sighed in disgust as she began to treat the downed Slytherins.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Harry. Obliviate!” Dumbledore’s wand flashed, and the pale grey spell washed over them both. Inwardly, Harry smirked. He wasn’t alone. The Goblin charms they both wore, which Hermione had appropriately named, ‘Deus ex Machina’ protected them both from most charms, hexes and curses, including the obliviation spell.

Dumbledore cast the Imperius, and began to give instructions. “You will both apologize publicly to Professor Snape for your comments. Harry, you will never even consider transferring to any other school. You will bring me the letter of invitation from The Salem Institute of Magicks, and you, Miss Granger, will also apologize to all those you have injured today. You may go.”

Harry and Hermione turned and walked out of the infirmary. Snape watched as they left. He smirked.

“I shall enjoy my…apology, headmaster.”

“I quite imagine you would.” Dumbledore replied, helping the spy to his feet. He knew why he had to keep his potions master happy, but ofttimes he wished he could simply divest himself of his ‘pet project’ and return the man to Azkaban where he belonged.

Lowering his voice, seeing as Poppy was still treating the Students, he said: “Severus, I do wish you would not be as overt with your treatment of young mister Potter. The students have not failed to notice your biases. If word were to get out to the public, I greatly fear Voldemort himself, would have to rescue you. Harry is a powerful political force and not one to be underestimated.”

“Potter is an arrogant fool just like his father. I will have my revenge against James Potter! Don’t stand in my way, Dumbledore, or the dark lord might ‘somehow’, find his way into this castle. Imagine the public outcry when the dark lord kills all the mudbloods and muggle lovers in the school. Then Hogwarts will teach only those who deserve teaching.” Snape smirked. Neither saw the ugly beetle perched under the eave of a table not ten feet away.

“Where is your wand?” Dumbledore changed topic knowing he would never win this particular battle. Snape was far too lost in his memories. Still, Dumbledore knew in his heart, that Severus was really a sweet boy…merely misunderstood. “You had it with you when you entered this infirmary.”

“That mudblood kicked it out of my hand and…”

A sudden loud explosion from the fireplace brought his words to a halt. A hurriedly cast shield from Dumbledore, kept them from being riddled by the deadly stone chips. “Ah. I seem to have found it.”

Snape stared at the destroyed fireplace in utter shock. “My wand! She destroyed my wand! That wand was a priceless antique! It was the finest ironwood to be had. The core was manticore sting. It was custom made. There are none like it!”

“Yes, a tragic loss. I believe it was made by Davidovich the Younger?”

The beetle positively thrummed in happiness. It didn’t notice the large spider creeping up behind it.

Harry and Hermione both smiled as they turned away from the scene. They retired to an empty classroom where they pulled the silvery-blue memories from their heads and placed them into an Auror’s presentation pensieve. Sealing the bowl magically, they addressed it to Amelia Bones, and headed for the owlery.


Several hours later, Harry and Hermione wandered through the halls. They’d managed to delay any ‘apology’ to anyone by not appearing at dinner in the Great Hall, and in fact, had contacted, not the Salem Institute, but the Norton School of Magic in Portland. Chancellor McComb was more than happy to accommodate them and should they decide on the Institute, steps would been taken to make Hermione’s parents comfortable in nearby Vancouver.


“Hey, Harry?” Hermione ventured.


“You wanna shag?”

“What?” Harry spun toward his best friend so quickly, he stumbled and careened into a wall in shock, bounced off and tumbled to the granite flags. For the life of him, he had never even considered that his brilliant and beautiful but self-conscious friend would be so overt. He’d fancied the hot tamale next to him for the longest time, but this was the first time she’d showed a reciprocal interest.

Grinning, she held out a hand and helped him regain his footing.

“Do you want to shag? You know. Have sex. Ball, boff, cage the dragon, dip your wick, fuck, frigg, hump, grind, do the nasty, tweedlioop, get laid, screw, fornicate, have intercourse, introduce our ‘best friends’, ‘know’ each other biblically, practice making a baby, play doctor, get it up and bring it off, do the flying monkey, the hunka-chunka, the humpity bumpity, the wagga wagga, become a spider, horizontalize, get it on, make love, get nekkid, test the limits of your manhood, make the beast with two backs, rock the bed frame, rattle the springs, do the mattress dance, the horizontal mambo, sow some wild oats, plow me well, sample the fruits of life, the finer pleasures, watch the ceiling, have me waving to God and all the angels, spear the bearded clam, or in my case, the naked clam, tame the wild beast, make like two starfish, play ‘hide the sausage’, bury the arrow, engage in carnal knowledge…”

“Hermione!” Harry interrupted, throwing up his hands in self-defense. “I know what the word means…although I do have to admit, I haven’t heard a number of those. I meant I’d just thought you were interested in someone else.”

“Someone, else? Who?”


“RON?” Hermione shouted. “Harry are you insane!?! Ron and I fight so much we’d end up killing each other! Why on Earth would you think that I was attracted to someone who does nothing but ridicule and insult me?”

“Well…erm, I thought that was…well, flirting.”

“Flirting?” Hermione laughed. Harry felt a warmth tingling through his body at that laugh. He tried to hide the physical reaction, by focusing on what Hermione was saying.

“God, no! Harry, have you been watching ‘The Honeymooners’ on the telly? That’s only flirting in really, really bad romance novels.”

“Really? You mean the book Ginny gave me is no good?”

“What book?”

“This one.” Harry pulled out a thin book titled: ‘Forbidden Lust in the Forbidden Forest’.

“She told me if I read some of it every night before I went to bed, I’d quickly get an idea of how women ‘really’ want to be treated. She also said it was better to keep it with me all the time…just in case. I wonder why? I know the guys would take the piss if they caught me reading it, but, why shouldn’t I just tuck it into my trunk?”

Hermione frowned and waved her wand over the book in a peculiar swirling motion, then replied: “Possibly because she’s charmed it to enhance any natural sexual attraction you may have for her. I can dispel the charm but it’s probably better to just chuck the book into the nearest fireplace. It was ruddy awful!”

“You’ve read it?” Harry asked, wanting to get to know a bit more about his potential bed-partner.

“Erm…No!” Hermione stammered, flushing from the tips of her ears to her…well, she blushed. Hurriedly changing the subject she asked: “I wonder why it didn’t work?”

“Maybe because she looks just like my mother?” Harry returned with a nauseated face. “No Oedipus complex, have I, sez I! The fact that she often acts like her mother is another point in my favor.”

“Well yes.” Hermione conceded the point. “There is that.”

By this time, they’d wandered through the castle and quite coincidentally, were walking down the seventh floor corridor toward the Room of Requirement, (where Hermione just might have subtly guided them…but she wasn’t saying a thing!) Even through the heavy walls they could hear music. The door was there; indicating the Room of Requirement was occupied…the three neckties and the bright yellow and black ‘Do Not Disturb!’ placard hanging from the door handle might have been another subtle hint. Peeking inside, they found that there was a ‘partay’ going on inside. Most of the upper years were there. Ginny was one of two centerpieces at the moment, lying on her back on a table and servicing four guys. Other guys stood by, ready to ‘perform their duties’. On the other side of the room, on a similar table, Pansy Parkinson, seemingly in competition with the petite redhead, was likewise engaged, except that six guys were being satisfied. Pansy rode on top of someone, stroking both Crabbe and Goyle, whilst sucking on Blaize Zabini, Draco was on top of Pansy and Nott was on top of him.

To the right, Neville was plowing Luna Lovegood deep and hard, while she, wearing a glowing, flashing, lurid orange and green checked, strap-on dildo, did the same to Daphne Greengrass…amazingly, keeping perfect time. Daphne had her head buried between the thighs of Hannah Abbott, who was moaning obscenities.

In the background, were other couples or groups, engaging in a variety of techniques or perversions or simply watching the others. Ron was in a corner with Parvati and Padma, and they were showing him in no uncertain terms that they did in fact, share everything.

“OooKaaaayyy! Let’s find some place else.” Harry suggested, quickly closing the door.

Hermione agreed, and in short order they had gone through several of the more popular make-out spots in the school, only to find them all occupied. Passing by a classroom on the fourth floor that was thought to be unused, they heard a throaty voice crying out: “Oh Argus! More!” In the background was the caterwauling of felines engaged as well.

“Harry shuddered in nausea and said: “I - don’t - even - want - to - know!”

Again, grimacing in utter disgust, Hermione concurred, and they left that corridor as fast as they could.

In the Great Hall, Harry said: “Take my hand.” Hermione did and quickly found herself feeling like she’d been squeezed through a long rubber…tube. Yeah, that’s it, a long rubber tube. What did you think? Sheesh!


They arrived in the foyer of a nicely appointed upper range flat in London. Through the large panes of glass they could see Big Ben’s tall, thick, solidly erect tower, gleaming proudly in the darkness. Drops of moisture trickled down the glass creating a fuzzy and somehow erotic image for them both.

Hermione was forced to reconsider a truth she’d known since she’d first read ‘Hogwarts: A History’. Then she realized that no matter how hard she’d tried, she’d never gotten Harry to read it. Perhaps that was a good thing. After all, according to all the books on aerodynamics, bumblebees should not be able to fly. Fortunately, bumblebees couldn’t read either. Still, she had to question their means of travel.

“Harry, no one can apparate into, or out of Hogwarts. You know that!”

“Yeah, but the author of this story thinks it’s stupid that only Dumbledore can, so he’s given me a special, unnamed ability that allows me to do just that. Welcome to the ‘Shag Pad’. It was Sirius’ until he died, and then I got it. Dumbledore doesn’t know about it because it’s registered to ‘Don DeLongdong’.”

A towel-wrapped Nymphadora, call-me-that-and-die! Tonks rushed into the room with her wand held high. Unfortunately the towel she wore, wasn’t quite as secure as she would have wished, and began to fall. Seeing her friends rather than an enemy, she focused her attention more on recovering the towel, and re-covering the skin underneath.

Both Harry and Hermione let out appreciative wolf-whistles, enjoying the shifting view immensely as she struggled with the uncooperative towel. Harry conjured comfortable chairs despite his never having learned how, and some popcorn, which actually tasted like popcorn, and they settled in to watch, as Tonks desperately fought the demented terry.

Finally, flustered and annoyed, the pink haired witch just held the thing over her important parts and sighed: “Wotcher, Harry! Wotcher, Hermione!” She raised her eyebrow at the two new chars…and the popcorn.

“Heya, Tonks.” Harry smirked. “That was a hell of a show. Can I get tickets for a repeat performance? Maybe a private show?” He waggled his eyebrows alternately.

“I’ll give you a private show!” Tonks snarled, brandishing her wand. Hermione intercepted her and called: “Relax, Tonks. He’s joking…aren’t you!?!” This last was growled to Harry, who feigned shocked innocence. Neither woman was fooled for a second.

Slightly mollified, Tonks straightened her towel, and asked: “So what brings you two, to ‘The Love Shack’?”

“Why does that name sound capitalized?” Harry asked.

“Shaddap Harry!” Both Hermione and Tonks chimed, then grinned at each other. Tonks went on.

“So, why are you here?”

“Well, we wanted to find a place to shag, but all the good places in the castle were taken, and since it’s February, and bloody cold, we really didn’t want to make it in the astronomy tower or on the Quidditch pitch, so we apparated here.”

“You apparated? From Hogwarts? That’s not possible. Everyone knows that!”

“He knows, Tonks. It turns out the fanfic author writing this, didn’t like that rule, so he made it possible for Harry to do so anyway.”

“You know, I really love those fanfic authors. They let us get away with all kinds of things that JKR never would! So, you’re here for some ‘fun and games’, huh?” Cheesy saxophone music began to play in the background and all three of them looked curiously around them for the source of the noise.

“Where did that music come from?” Harry asked, ready to spew, (not to be confused with S.P.E.W. which was an idiotic idea, but Harry wasn’t about to say that, especially considering he’d brought the founder of the aforementioned S.P.E.W. here for the express purpose of shagging her rotten!)

“I think it’s an automatic.” Tonks replied with a disgusted sigh. “Like these ruddy towels! I think they’re charmed to do that in the presence of a male, which was usually Sirius. My cousin, was a great guy, and from the number of paternity suits he’s had, an excellent lover, if a bit careless, but his choice in music leaves a lot to be desired.”

Harry addressed the flat itself. “Will you turn that awful noise off?” With what sounded to be a sigh of relief, the music stopped. Harry spoke again. “Thanks for that. Let’s try Rachmaminoff’s piano concerto number three in ‘D’ minor, Op 18.”

The soothing music began to play, and all three smiled.

“Harry, I didn’t know you were familiar with Rachmaninoff.”

“Oh, yes. I appreciate a rather eclectic selection of music.” To the flat, he added. “When that piece is done, please play, in order: ‘Stairway to Heaven’ by Led Zepplin, ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ by Iron Butterfly, ‘I’m alive’ by ELO and ‘Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap’ by AC/DC, and for afters, I’d like a quiet Mozart string piece.”

“How about Ravel’s Bolero’. I heard it was wonderful music to make love to.” Hermione interjected.

“Doesn’t last long enough.” Harry returned absently. Hermione and Tonks both looked first at each other, then at him, and again at each other, identical looks of wonderment mixed with unrepressed lust, on their faces. Tonks grabbed Hermione’s sleeve and dragged her away, not noticing the naughty smirk on Harry’s face.

“Can I join in?” She clasped her hands together and put on her very best ‘puppy eyes’. “Please, please, please, please, please, let me join in. I’ll be good, I promise!” Tonks pleaded. Hermione thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Well…he’s new at this. I may need some help with him…especially considering what Dean Thomas was saying about him” Hermione held her hands about as wide as her torso. Tonks goggled and Harry’s ears twitched, as his grin got even bigger. ‘YES!’ He inwardly did a Snoopy dance. ~My first time and I get two at once!~ Hearing them approach, he schooled his features and added a few more relaxing pieces to his music selection.

“Harry, We’ve got a real treat for you…” Hermione whispered throatily.

“Chocolate?” He exclaimed, eyes wide and sporting a boyish grin. Hermione should have caught on at that point, but her thinker was ‘otherwise occupied’.

“Better!” She promised. Tonks nodded her head slowly and allowed her towel to ‘slip’ a bit. Harry gaped as her nipples hardened in the cooler air. “Nummies!” He launched himself at her nipples and in a second had his lips wrapped around one.

Tonks had never had anyone go after her nipples like that. ~Hmmm!~ She thought. ~I wonder if it’s ‘cause he never got any love at home?~ Seconds later, as Harry did a really interesting thing with his tongue; Tonks lost her ability to think.

Hermione was efficiently stripping off her clothing, except her bright pink, ‘Strawberry Shortcake’ knickers. She wanted Harry to take those off for her…preferably with his teeth.


The trio (no, not that trio!) somehow made their way into the bedroom where a super-deluxe, ultra king-sized, erotically vibrating bed with parallel brass bars along the top of both head and footboards, waited. Fur-lined handcuffs and other erotic-type restraints dangled from the bars. The bed was covered in a faux leopard-fur quilt, had tiger striped pillows lined with imitation monkey fur trim and there was a fake zebra skin rug on the floor.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t run off with us!” Tonks muttered, eying the bed distastefully. Apparently Sirius’ taste in bedding decorations matched his musical preference. To one side, a strange assortment of straps and bars depended from a heavy loop set into the ceiling.

Hermione picked up a foot-wide, furry brown item. “Look! A muff! I haven’t seen one in such a long time!” Tonks looked askance at her and began to giggle. Hermione looked puzzled for a second, until she got the gist. Then she flushed bright red and threw the muff at the effervescent Auror. “Oh! You!” Tonks batted the furry thing away and Harry intercepted it in mid-air, asked: “What’s a muff?” and took a closer look. He folded back the fur to show the silky pink lining. “Oh! It’s to warm your fingers.” Inside, he found a label. “Hey! Look! It’s beaver!”

Facing the bed, was a glass fronted cupboard advertising every conceivable sex-toy ever invented, (and a few that were quite inconceivable as well!) and a huge supply of ‘Bertie Botts, every flavor lubes and body oils, with flavors ranging from strawberry to pizza. There was also a small cold-chest filled with erotic foods like chocolate syrup, honey, whipped cream, strawberries, cherries, grapes and sections of peaches and Mandarin oranges, along with peanut butter, (plain and chunky) some strawberry jam, cherry preserves (though it really was a little too late for either Hermione or Tonks), a can of ‘Cheeze-Whiz’, saltine crackers, a loaf of bread, olives and oddly enough, a bowl of Brussels sprouts.

Harry lifted the bowl and asked: “What the hell is this for?” Neither lady could answer.


A closet with every imaginable outfit for sexual deviants stood by, doors open. Latex cat-suits hung side-to-side with French maid’s outfits. Leather and steel clothing shared the space with superhero costumes, naughty alien spacesuits and white nurses clothing, as well as much more intimate apparel. Hermione pulled out a see-through pink baby-doll negligee with white fur trim around the bottom.

“Hermione, I can see where that would be dead sexy, but why the fur? Harry asked.

‘If you do your job right, it’s to keep my neck warm.” Hermione returned, slyly. Harry’s eyes bugged out. Pavlovian reflex came into play. He started to salivate and his erection sprang forth, tearing through his zip.

Instantly agog over Harry’s incredible tower of flesh, Tonks tripped over a spot on the carpet and fell against a wall. She accidentally hit a hidden switch and the room went dark. Red, blue, green and yellow lights began to turn on and off at random, with white strobes flashing in the corners. A large mirror-covered ball dropped slowly from the ceiling and began to turn, reflecting the lights throughout the room, and dry ice vapours formed at the base of the walls. From the background the Bee Gee’s began to play: ‘Stayin’ Alive’.

“Ahhhh!!” They all screamed in unison like vampires splashed with holy water. “Disco!”

Clapping their hands over their ears, they squirmed in pain, seeking the source of the offending noise. Harry’s organ whimpered and tried to find a place to hide. Hermione grimaced in unbearable torment and Tonks pounded her hands frantically against the wall until she found the spot she’d hit. The lights died, and the faceted ball withdrew into the ceiling.

“Thanks for that!” The traumatized Harry sighed in relief. Hermione nodded her appreciation as well, as she stood on shaky legs, then turned and bent over the bed to push experimentally on the mattress, coincidentally exposing her pink clad bum to the air. Harry looked and instantly, his tongue was hanging out of his mouth. He pulled his ruined trousers down and tied to kick off his shoes. He lost his balance and fell to the shag carpet. Tonks laughed as she helped him up, ‘accidentally’ flashing her bare naughty parts at him as he looked up. The tent in his boxers grew as the mighty ‘Penisaurus Erectus’ made its presence clearly known once again. Now it was Tonks’ turn to drool, and as she turned, Hermione’s eyes bugged out and she joined the salivary competition.

“Wow, Harry!” She commented. “If that thing gets any bigger, we’re gonna have to cut those boxers off you!”

At the sound of the words ‘Cut’ and ‘Boxers’, Harry paled and ‘Harry the Slightly Smaller’ went into hiding.

“Awww!” Tonks cooed. “He’s pouting!”

Ignoring the pink-haired twit, Harry leaned on the glass-fronted cabinet and kicked off his trousers. Feeling something unusual, he looked around, and spied the things he’d mashed with his hand. He picked up a strange looking pink and purple ‘thing’ with foot-long tentacles, which looked a great deal like a squid wearing a flat conical hat.

Harry held it in the air, turning it from one side to the other, and asked: “Erm, what’s this?” Tonks just blushed. Surprisingly enough; so did Hermione.

Suddenly two large, yellow eyes opened on the thing Harry held and he found himself subject to the same intense scrutiny he’d been giving it, while several of the tentacles caressed his arm gently. The thing began to vibrate. Surprised, he jerked back with a “Yarrggghhh!” and frantically shook it off. The thing slithered under the bed.

Harry cried: “Jeezus! What the ruddy hell was that?”

“Mmm. Justalittletoyperfectlyharmlessnothingtoworryabout.” Tonks managed to squeak out, though her face turned as bright as her hair. She could see the thing blinking slowly at her from under the bed, and a frisson of remembered pleasures swept through her.


Hermione and Tonks were both shocked at the immense size of Harry’s erection.

“Harry, How is it possible you have an erection that big? I mean, you’ve been neglected and malnourished, almost starved, for most of your life. You stand five foot, seven, and only weigh about sixty kilos. You shouldn’t be nearly that big. It makes no logical sense.” Hermione complained. Not about the size of Harry’s ‘endowment’, as she was quite anxious to try that bloody great stonker, but because she couldn’t understand why it was as large as it was.

“Well, I’m glad you asked.” Harry smirked. “It turns out the author of this fanfic is a guy who felt that since I had to put up with so much shit in my life, I should get something out of it…so he hung me better than John Holmes. More importantly, he made me a ‘natural’ in using it!”

“God, I love fanfic authors!” Tonks and Hermione chimed together as Hermione wrapped herself around Harry and began to clean his teeth with her tongue. Harry picked her up and walked her to the bed, where he slowly let them both settle, not coincidentally ending up with his massive throbber pressing firmly against her core.

Hermione shuddered as the heavy bell of Harry’s tumescence rubbed up and down her slit.

Much to her disappointment, he did not try to enter her immediately. Instead, he rolled to one side, and while kissing her passionately, began to run his fingers up and down her body.

She writhed in pleasurable torment as Harry excited nerves she didn’t know she had. Tonks, on the other hand immediately set to in ‘helping’.

While Harry slipped his fingers into her knickers to toy with her folds, Tonks was applying her tongue alternately to Hermione’s nipples and to her navel.

Eyes closed in pleasure, Hermione held Harry’s hand where it was. He understood and carefully twitched his fingers, just…there.

Her first climax came without warning. Suddenly she was crying out as she peaked.

Harry and Tonks shared a grin, and then shifted positions. Harry knelt between Hermione’s thighs breathing in the warm scent from her pulsating core. Tonks straddled her mouth.

Introductions made, each turned to. Harry did, as Hermione had wanted him to. He pulled her knickers off with his teeth. He might have cheated just a little, but he was saying nothing. Hermione immediately began to lap at Tonks’ vulva. Within minutes each of them was flickering tongues over enflamed clits. From time to time, they’d change around so nobody was left out.

Three orgasms passed before Tonks pointed out that Harry had been so nice to them both, but he’d not had any. He tried to protest that their pleasure came first, to which Hermione growled: “Bullshit, Harry. Your pleasure is just as important as ours. Now, lay back and relax!”

She forced him back and both she and Tonks began to share his ‘Tower of Power’. Where one couldn’t wrap her lips all the way around, both could together…and both took a great deal of pleasure in doing just that.

Time passed, accompanied by Oooh’s and Aaah’s and: “How can you possibly do that?” more than once.

Harry focused his entire concentration on pleasing the two women in bed with him. When he was pleasuring Hermione, Tonks would straddle Hermione’s jaw. And when he wasn’t working directly on Hermione, he’d focus on Tonks who would attend to Hermione’s needs. Both turned out to be extremely appreciative of his efforts.

Knowing Harry was going to try to keep himself from coming, Hermione made use of the restraints. She handcuffed Harry’s wrists to the top bars and his ankles to the ones at the foot of the bed. Then she and Tonks began to torment him unmercifully.

Hermione had straddled his mouth, and was rocking her pelvis over his wriggling lingus, while Tonks slowly bobbed up and down on his wondrous, one-eyed worm. Harry had a hard time concentrating on Hermione because Tonks had this really wonderful thing she did with her tongue every time she lifted her head to the top of his purpling phallus.

Soon Harry felt himself get ready to blow. This time, neither Tonks nor Hermione were going to let him delay it.

He growled out a warning and jerked his hips up, spilling into Tonks’ mouth. She grunted in protest, but continued to suck, swallowing Harry’s seed as he delivered it. Hermione moaned as she began to climb the scarp to her climax. It would take some while longer, and she felt it would be so much better with Harry inside her.

Tonks seemed to read her mind, and backed off Harry’s knob. “Do you want the first go, or should I?”

“Please. I’ve wanted him for ever so long. Harry?”

“Tonks, As much as I love you, I want my first time to be with Hermione.”

“Okey dokey.” Tonks grinned. “Now you’ve shot your load, let’s see how long it takes Hermione to get you off again.”

Hermione adopted a look of intense concentration as she positioned herself over Harry’s turgid tool. She sank down on him, sighing in pleasure, even though she normally would have been screaming in pain from trying to accommodate his immense size. Hey, this is fan fiction!

With nary a pause, Hermione rose again only to drop down onto Harry’s glistening gland once more.

“God I love fanfic authors!” Tonks murmured as she watched in fascination as Harry’s prodigious length was snugly imbedded inside Hermione’s body. She rose on his shaft, her body providing the necessary lubrication to allow his smooth uninterrupted motion to continue. She rose and fell again and again, never tiring, as Harry shifted his pole within her.

For the longest time, a nearly delirious Harry tried to escape his restraints so he could ‘help’ Hermione. Unfortunately she was having none of it. She went on rising, falling, rising again, sometimes twisting to the right or left, seeking new erotic sensations.

She turned to her fellow conspirator and panted in time with her movements:
“You know…for a first…timer, he’s…wonderful. I’ve been going…for a solid fifteen…fifteen minutes…now, and come six times…six times already…and he’s still…going strong!”

Tonks had been timing as well. She tossed the antique gold pocket-watch over her shoulder and leaned over to gently bite Harry’s nipples, completely ignoring the fact that men’s nipples aren’t all that sensitive.

Of course, the added stimulation drove Harry to heights of passion he never even realized he could attain. He erupted inside his first lover, filling her to overflowing with his thick white essence. Hermione, feeling his pulses of love juice splashing into her, climaxed once more, shuddering in throes of unequalled fires.

When her orgasm had finally subsided, Hermione literally had to be helped off him, as she was suddenly so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. Harry and Tonks laid her on the bed and covered her with a light sheet.


“OK, loverboy.” Tonks spoke lustily. “I’ve been waiting. Now, it’s my turn! She braced against the bed in front of Harry and bent at the waist, to rest her elbows on the mattress. This had the effect of exposing her pinkened petals, glistening with nectar, to his view. Harry gripped her hips, and with one mighty thrust, seated himself as deeply into her as he could. Now, Tonks should have wanted to kill him for the forceful entry, but instead, she sighed in pleasure and began to slide along his heavy shaft, with liquid ease. His tremendous tallywhacker sank into her time and again, eliciting passionate moans of glory.

As time passed, Harry got more aggressive, pumping harder and gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. She cheerfully ignored his male domination and rode the crest to another shrieking climax. Harry’s refusal to stop, kept her riding from peak to peak, never settling enough to think. The orgasmic overload was sure to fry her brains, but wow! What a way to go!

Harry got carried away and shoved forward hard enough that Tonks fell to the mattress. He simply crawled on top of her and continued to drive like a man demented, into her lithe, svelte, well-formed, trim, shapely, lean, buxom, sleek, rounded, athletic, statuesque, slender, willowy, and quivering body.

Tonks lay on her face, breasts mashed into the mattress, as Harry plowed her from behind. She felt each and every inch of him pounding into her abused and overheated core, and wondered: ~If we measure things in the metric system, why do we still measure men’s cocks in inches? And is it Imperial inches, or American?~ Oblivious, Harry repositioned and began to thrust anew.

Seventeen minutes and six point three seconds later, Harry threw his head back and let go with a feral growl more suited to the African veldt than a bedroom, as he spewed his baby batter into his pink-haired conquest.

They were so exhausted that neither could move, and so, just fell where they were.


Harry woke the next day, his muscles quite sore from his unaccustomed exertion. This was a lot different from Quidditch! Hermione groaned in pain as overstressed tissues protested their abuse.

“How do you feel?” Harry asked. Hermione stretched languidly, wincing at her aches.
Tonks waltzed into the room bearing a tray. “Good morning, Lovers! She chirped. Setting the tray on the bed, she pulled off the light tunic she wore to reveal her in all her naked glory. ‘Harry the Slightly Smaller’ took immediate notice and sprang to attention. Tonks whistled at the ‘response time’ and with a naughty smirk, asked: “You want first go this morning or shall I?”

Hermione moaned: “Tonks! I’m achy and worn out, and really, really sore! I couldn’t possibly handle another go with ol’ donkey-dong here!”

“Aahhh, the wonders of freelance pharmaceuticals!” She grinned. “Here, use this salve, take these potions and smoke some of this, and you’ll be raring to go in a half hour. In the meantime, I’m taking first go, today! Harry, drink these down, and then on your back!” She handed him some potions that didn’t make him want to puke.

Harry had barely complied when Tonks straddled him and impaled herself on his heat-seeking, moisture-missile. Settling down she gasped as she felt herself filled. Up and down, down and up, she rose and fell effortlessly. Hermione had taken the healing and revitalizing potions and departed for the loo.

Returning after a nice long, hot, ache-relieving shower, she sat in the only chair in the room, which, judging by its size, should have held at least three chairs and a settee, rolled a number and toked up. Harry rolled over on top of Tonks, and began to drive, deep and slow.

“Wow, Tonks!” She wheezed, holding as much in her lungs as she could. “This is some really good shit!”

Tonks smirked. “Yeah!” Tonks panted as Harry plowed into her. “I get it straight from my connection in Haiti. A voodoo-women who runs a sex aid’s shop there. I kept her from getting busted a few years ago, so she sends me some every now and again!”

“What did she do?” Hermione exhaled a cloud of aromatic smoke.

“Oh, she was selling ‘artificial enhancements’.” Tonks smirked.

“So?” Hermione queried before she took another drag.

“She made some men look bad…including our esteemed minister. Y’see, the charm comes in two varieties. Short term and long. Turns out the Minister isn’t all that proud of his wee little willy, but he was too bloody cheap to get the long term charm, so when the charm wore off in the middle of…well in the middle, let’s just say he wasn’t too happy with her!”


Tonks fell off Harry as she finished climaxing…again. “No more! Please! Mercy! I proclaim you: ‘The Studliest Man in the Universe’, but no more!” She moaned, exhausted by her ‘adventures’ with Harry.

Reluctantly, Harry sat up. He hadn’t come yet and he really wanted to. Looking around, his eyes fell on Hermione.

Seeing the look in Harry’s eyes, she moaned: “Oh no!” and jumped up to run but with his well-honed Quidditch reflexes, he intercepted her, and drew her to him. Falling back, he pulled her on top of him.

“Well, alright, then, but just one more go. We have to get back to school!” Like Tonks before her, she straddled him and slid down his steel-hard shaft, groaning in satisfaction.


Hermione was barely conscious, panting in exhausted satisfaction when Harry turned to Tonks.

“Hey, Tonks!”

“Hmmm?” Tonks was seated on the chair, one ankle behind her ear, diddling herself with the tip of a madly vibrating wand.

“Remember telling me I might be a metamorph, ‘cause I grew my hair back once?”

“MmmmHmmm?” Tonks’ looked up. Her eyes were beginning to glaze over as she approached her climax.

“I’ve been practicing. Look!” Harry stuck out his tongue.

“Tonks’ eyes nearly popped out of her skull. The wand did the rest. She shrieked and passed out.

A sleepy and very thoroughly satisfied Hermione stirred herself. “Wha’s goin’ on, luv?”

Harry turned to her and said: “I just showed Tonks what I could do, and she had an orgasm and passed out.”

“That must have been quite something to see! What did you show her?”

Harry faced her fully, stuck out his tongue and licked both his eyebrows, one after the other. Hermione squeaked and fainted.

“Why does that always happen?” Harry wondered. Behind him he heard Tonks murmur happily in her delirium: “God, I love fanfic authors!”



All the music named, has been properly credited.

For those who really care, I do not hate disco. I happen to enjoy the music a great deal, even if I think the stylized dance moves are pretty silly. It is a great target for gags, though. I do not own any of the music named and have credited them properly.

I also do not own ‘Strawberry Shortcake’ or ‘Snoopy’ or ‘Cheeze whiz’, and my sister and sometimes-beta, FireLemming, designed the squid-like thing.

Don DeLongdong belongs to Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong. (and RCA records, I think)

The expressions I’ve used to describe Harry’s ‘endowment’ are blatantly stolen from Kinsfire and Herman Tumbleweed…’cept for a couple which are mine.
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