Content Harry Potter
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Author Notes:

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

Hermione’s racy comments and even racier sponge bath filled Harry’s head with questions and idle fantasies.

To wit: his best friend, Hermione Granger, had just given him a hand-job.

Even though it had come after they’d admitted that they fancied each other, and snogged a bit, it was still something out of the blue. But they had each also admitted they fancied the Patil Twins, Hermione had suggested that she had acted, at least in part, on that attraction, and Padma and Parvati, in turn, were doing as much as they could to reciprocate and express their affections to both Harry and Hermione whilst under the close eye of their Auntie.

It was impossible not to see this, even if one was a clueless teen-aged male.

So what to do?

Since the magical salves that had soaked into his limbs drew on both his magical core and physical reserves, sleep came more quickly to the teen-aged wizard than any answers did. Pervy wet fantasies morphed into pervy wet dreams that were almost at the point of a sticky-sheeted climax…when Harry’s survival skills kicked in and he woke to the sound of a door opening.

“Who is…fuck!” Harry growled.

“Erm…just us, Harry,” Padma said cautiously, as she poked her head through the door. “We were just checking to see if you were awake and wanted lunch.”

“Oh… come on in,” Harry said with a sigh. “Sorry for my language…got frustrated at not being able to pull my wand.”

“I thought Hermione took care of that for you this morning,” Parvati commented, as she pushed in behind her sister with a tray of food. She then looked towards Harry’s crotch and giggled. “Or maybe not.”

“What are you…” Hermione asked, as she followed the twins. Following Parvati’s gaze, she offered up her own giggle. “So they were sweet dreams, then, Harry?”

Harry looked down at his tented sheets, sighed, and leaned back into his pillow.


“Hermione mentioned that you had doubts about whether you were awake or dreaming this morning,” Padma observed. “Shall we determine whether or not you’re still dreaming now?”

“And how would you plan on doing that?” Harry asked.

“Well…Hermione had a rather definitive test…didn’t she?” Parvati asked, as she balanced the tray of food on Harry’s legs, then climbed up by his side. “Maybe she should repeat the process as confirmation.”

Harry snorted and arched an eyebrow towards Hermione. She read his thoughts, like she always could, and blushed.

“I’m sorry Harry, but…but they forced it out of me.”

“They did? How?”

“Well…we were taking turns giving each other full body massages…as practice, of course…”

“Of course,” Harry snarked.

Hermione shook her head slightly as she climbed up onto the bed on the side opposite to Parvati.

“So there they had me on the table, naked and with my wand out of reach, and they…”

“They did what you suggested they might do when you left me?” Harry asked.

Hermione blushed even deeper. “Well, yes…but that was later…after they stuck me to the massage table with sticking charms and hit all of my tickle points.”

“We weren’t intentionally trying to tickle her into submission,” Padma protested, as she joined the others on the bed.

“Right,” snarked Hermione. “And the sticking charms?”

“Medicinally necessary,” Parvati replied. “You kept squirming every time we laid a hand on you.”

“Maybe that because of where you were placing those hands?” Hermione asked.

“Is that a complaint?” Parvati asked.

Hermione glanced towards Harry, then cast her eyes down towards her hands.

“Apparently not,” he replied, a grin growing on his face.

“So have we decided if our patient is still dreaming?” asked Parvati.

Padma cast a furtive glance out of the doorway, then held her hand out and hissed, “Rock, parchment, wand to find out?”

“Padma! Behave yourself!” came a voice from beyond the threshold.

“Oh, Fudge!” Padma whined. “She always seems to know when to listen in.”

Harry laughed. “That’s alright…I’m quite certain that I’m not presently dreaming.”

“Really?” asked Hermione. “And how do you know that?”

The-Boyfriend-Who-Worried decided that Gryffindors go forward, and threw caution to the wind.

“Because if I was still dreaming, you three would be naked, and we would be eating lunch on bared bellies and bits rather then on the backs of banana leaves.”

The three witches stared at Harry, then at each other, and then broke out into a chorus of giggles.

“Sounds like fun,” Hermione decided. “We’ll have to see what we can do to make that dream a reality.”

“Only after their father has had a talk with Harry, child!” shouted a voice from outside of the room.

“Merlin…you’re right about her hearing!” Hermione whispered, generating a fresh round of laughter that only grew once Parvati made a show of trying to rest the lunch tray on Harry’s covered tent.

“Here, let me take care of that,” Hermione offered, earning her a wide-eyed look from Harry as she reached for his crotch. But rather than slip a hand under the distended bed linen, she slid the tray up onto Harry’s chest, then pulled it back until it rested up against the base of his erection.

“Who needs fresh flowers to decorate a table when we’ve got that in full bloom?” Parvati whispered.

The giggles and grinning provoked by this observation died down only after their mouths were filled with finger foods. And fingers.

Harry noted with interest that Padma and Parvati were taking turns serving up the meal…when one was mashing up the rice and curry into a paste for Harry to lick clean from her fingers, the other was doing the same for Hermione. Hermione, in turn, made sure that Harry had opportunity to lick and suck on her own fingers, and was the first to volunteer to clean up the mess created when a dollup of food fell onto his belly.

She used her tongue.

Healer Patil’s disembodied admonishments kept Padma and Parvati from doing the same, especially when a sticky morsel ended up stuck on the top of Harry’s sheet-covered tent pole.

Hermione wasn’t at all shy about cleaning that mess up either.

When the Patil girls weren’t shamelessly testing the limits of their Aunt’s sense of propriety, they teasingly congratulated Harry and Hermione for getting their respective heads out of their arses and admitting their feelings for each other. The conversation inevitably grew edgy…having Harry and Hermione come out and admit that they were now boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t diminish any of the multivariate sexual equations that were being worked on within the room. There seemed to be a universal desire to clear the air and lay cards on the table between the four, but Healer Patil’s sharp ears forced the conversation to stay on the near side of smutty, and her well-timed passes by the doorway kept hands from straying towards tempting targets.

During it all, Harry did his best to analyze and process information...even as he hid his confusion and self-doubts. He would have been the first to admit that that any powers that the Dark Lord knew not had nothing to do with girls. Or relationships. Of course, knowing that he didn’t know the first thing about girls was a big step up from those (like Ron) who didn’t know that they didn’t know the first thing, but that self-awareness didn’t do anything to help with present circumstances.

So what to do? On the one hand, it could be seen as a boyfriend test…Hermione pushing him towards the twins on the expectation that he would gallantly refuse their offered charms. But on the other hand was the fact that those charms were being displayed, dangled, and offered to Hermione on an equal basis…and she wasn’t shy about accepting them.

It was a difficult situation…and when faced with difficult situations in the past, he had done well to reply upon Hermione and follow her lead.

So if Hermione was going to suck on Padma’s or Parvati’s digits when they offered her a mash of curry as finger food…then so would he. And if she was going to smile coyly and banter back when the sisters flirted, or stole kisses from her when their Aunt wasn’t looking, then who was he to do something different? And if his girlfriend reached out and tweeked Padma’s breast as part of a playful, yet erotic, rebuke…Well, Harry wasn’t in a position to pinch anyone’s bits…but it was something to aspire to.

“So what should we do now?” Padma asked, once the food was gone and the leafy green “dishes” set aside.

“How about a card game?” Parvati suggested.

Harry snorted. “Don’t think I’d hold onto my cards all that well.”

“Oh, sorry, forgot,” Parvati replied. She waggled her eyebrows and added, “So maybe you can watch while the three of us play with each other?”

Harry laughed whilst keeping one eye on Hermione to ensure that she found the response just as humorous.

She did.

“So how did you know that I like to watch?” he bantered.

“Oh, a little lioness told me,” Parvati replied with a grin. She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Think Auntie would let us play strip poker?”

“Parvati!” Healer Patil called out.

“Didn’t think so,” she groused.

A Lumos spell lit up over Padma’s head, and she leaned over to whisper something into her sister’s ear.

“Merlin, why didn’t I think of that sooner!” Parvati hissed. “But what about Hermione?”

Padma arched an eyebrow, then turned to Harry.

“Excuse me for leaning,” she asked, as she got up onto her knees and fell over Harry’s lap so that she could whisper something into Hermione’s ear.

“No worries…no worries at all,” Harry mumbled, watching as Padma’s chest dropped ever so closely down towards his erection.

“No! You’re kidding me!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I am certainly not,” Padma replied with a smile, as she leaned back and sat on her haunches. “So what do you think?”

Hermione waggled her eyebrows, and then turned towards her newly-admitted boyfriend.

“Oh Harry?”

“Yes, Hermione?”

“You might not realize it, given the fact that you’re barely wearing a sheet, but it’s grown rather hot in this room.”

Harry snorted. “If you can’t tell that I’ve considered our lunch to be hot, then…”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione replied. “So…Padma was wondering if it would be okay with you if we wore a more traditional style of clothing…something that’s favored by the native witches.”

Harry tilted his head in confusion, and bit his lower lip. “Erm, sure…if it makes you three more comfortable, then why would I have a problem with it?”

“Because it might make you a bit more…uncomfortable,” Parvati giggled, as she reached underneath her sari shawl and unbuttoned the front of her tight-fitting cropped shirt. Two shrugs of her shoulders later, she pulled the undergarment out from under the shawl, and dropped it on the floor.

“W-w-w-wow…wha..what are you doing?” Harry asked, as the light-browned skinned witch exposed the full side of her torso to his gaze.

“She’s going native,” Hermione giggled, as she and Padma both followed suit and removed their cholis.

Harry sat gobsmacked as the three witches “helped” each other make certain that the shawls that draped from their left shoulders down across their chests were still correctly in place. “Correctly in place” apparently meant that their saris revealed nothing from the front…but when the girls leaned forward and reached to make adjustments on each other, they paid no mind to the fact that their movements gave Harry a clear view of the sides of their breasts.

Or it could have been that they were very mindful of their actions, because there was an awful lot of leaning and reaching going on in front of him.

“I must be dreaming again,” he muttered.

“Would you like me to test for it?” Hermione asked brightly.

Harry thought about his response for a few moments. If he said yes, then Hermione might follow through on the proposition, but then Healer Patil might show up and…

“Maybe later?” he asked.

Hermione bit on her lip, then reached a decision and smiled.

“Yes, I don’t blame you…I’d want to see how this dream might play out as well.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

Hermione smiled serenely at Harry, and then asked the twins, “Not that I’m complaining, but if this is really how the local women wear saris, then why I haven’t seen more dressed like this outside?”

“Because they are Muggles,” Parvati explained. “This was how saris were traditionally worn by both Muggle women and witches, up until a couple of centuries ago. And South Indian witches are just as far behind in fashion as robe-wearing witches are in Britain…”

“And because of the Muggles, too,” added Padma. “It might be traditional magical fashion, but we’d stick out if we wore these outside just as much as we would if we wore robes and pointy hats in Muggle London.”

“Stick-out would be the right description,” Harry said with a headshake. “So if the analogy holds, you can wear witches garb so long as you’re out of view?”


But…but if that’s the case, then why haven’t I seen your Auntie dress that way?”

“Would you like her to, Harry?” Padma asked with a grin.

“Erm, no, of course not, unless…unless she was just dressing differently for my benefit…”

Padma and Parvati both laughed in response. “Oh, Harry…once you’ve healed enough to get out of your hospital bed…Auntie wears a choli underneath her sari because the clinic admits both Muggle and magical patients. But once the work day is over and she walks upstairs to the living quarters…”

“She’ll walk around like that?” Harry asked in disbelief.

Parvati and Padma both smiled and bobbled their heads in a way that meant, “yes” even if it more closely resembled a “no” amongst Europeans.

“You’re having me on,” Harry replied. “This has to be a prank…one of the nicest pranks I’ve ever experienced, but still…”

Padma giggled and wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder. This motion brought the exposed side of her right breast up against his bared arm.

He moaned.

“What…am I hurting you?” she asked.

“No…I’m wishing that I could feel something in my arms right now.”

“Oh, Harry…you know just what to say to a girl…”

“Thanks, but…I still think that…what would your Auntie think if she saw you two that way?”

“She thinks nothing of this, Harry.”

“How could that be?”

“Think about it,” said Padma. “Every time Parvati or I have come close to playing with your…floral arrangement…or something other that is risque, she’s conveniently passed by the opened doorway.”

“So maybe she doing something other then secretly chaperoning us right now?” Harry asked.

“Hmmm…a valid hypothesis. Shall we test it?”

“How do you plan to do that?”

A predatory gleam in Padma’s eyes as she casually reached down and fondled his cloth-covered crotch.

“Padma! Remove your hands this minute!” shouted a semi-distant voice.

“Yes, Auntie,” the Ravenclaw replied, as she returned her handto her lap in triumph.

Harry stared out towards the window for a moment, then snorted loudly.

“What’s that, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I was just thinking,” he replied. “If this is how witches really dress when they’re in the wizarding world here in India, then…Padma?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Are their magical villages like Hogsmeade here, or shopping districts similar to Diagon Alley?”

“Of course.”

“So if we were to visit these places, then all of the witches would be dressed this way?”

Padma smiled. “That’s right, Harry…the shirts are worn just to placate the Muggles.”

Harry shook his head. “Boy, wouldn’t that make young wizards want to hang out at Madame Malkin’s if it were the same in Britain!”

The four laughed, and then Hermione asked, “So I suppose that means that these are similar to the school uniforms worn at the Indian version of Hogwarts?”

When Parvati nodded, Harry quipped, “Well that would have to be a well-kept secret, or else all of boys in Hogwarts would be itching to make transfers.”

“Not necessarily, Harry,” Padma said with a sly grin.

“Why not?” Harry asked.

Parvati and Padma laughed out loud at the question, and shared some giggle-filled whispers.

“No…has to be less then five seconds…our Harry is a bright lad.”

“What’s all this?” their “bright lad” asked.

Padma turned and smiled. “We were making bets on how quickly the answer would make the flowers wilt.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” said Padma, “you asked why Hogwarts boys wouldn’t want to transfer to a school where the female students all dressed this way.”

“Yes, and?”

“And the answer is because the female professors all dress this way as well.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Parvati started to count.


Harry’s mind raced to link independent bits of thought…

Professors dress like students…students display the sides of their breasts…professors do too…so McGonagall would dress that way…and Sprout would…and…Oh, Merlin!…Umbridge would…”

“Six-Morgana!” Parvati called out. Pointing towards Harry’s suddenly “wilted” crotch, she added, “See, Padma…I was right!”

“No, you just counted fast,” her sister countered.

“That was mean,” Hermione stated, with a smile that appeared to belie the point.

Harry sighed, and shook his head. “No, I walked into that one all myself,” he countered. Laughing at himself, he then asked, “Do I dare wonder what the local wizards wear?”

“About the same that you’re wearing right now,” Parvati quipped.

Harry frowned. “But I’m not wearing anything under this sheet!”

“No, I was including the sheet,” Parvati replied. “They’re called dhotis.”

“Maybe it’s better to show, then just tell?” Padma asked.

“Excellent suggestion,” Parvati replied. “And best be done now, so that we don’t run the risk of catching his erection in the knot.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Hermione, dear, would you please levitate the patient for us?” Padma asked.

Hermione looked at Harry, winked, and then pushed her shawl away from her breasts so that she could retrieve her wand from its interior sleeve.

As Harry gawked, Padma quipped, “With practice, Hermione, you should be able to pull your wand without unintentionally flashing your nipples.”

“Who said that it was unintentional?” Hermione replied, as she hopped off of the bed and cast a Boyfriend Leviosa spell.

“There’s no real need...” Harry protested weakly, as his body rose from the bed and the twins gleefully pulled off the cover sheet.

“Now hush, Harry,” Padma stated, as she folded the sheet in half lengthwise and began to wrap it around his bared midriff.

“Be sure to leave plenty of room for expansion in the front,” Parvati gleefully advised.

“And why would that be necessary?” Healer Patil asked, as she entered the room.

“Well, you never know…” Parvati replied.

“Yes, particularly with the two of you teasing my patient so horribly.”

“Don’t think that the patient thought it was horrible, Auntie,” Padma offered.

“Hey…I am in the room, you know,” Harry quipped.

“Yes, Harry,” quipped Parvati, as she stared at his crotch. “The visual evidence of that fact is…enormously overwhelming.”

“And you two best make sure that it doesn’t become tactile evidence,” their Aunt advised. She then looked at her niece’s handiwork and said, “Best move the knot to the left of center, dear.”

Parvati grinned as she complied with her Aunt’s observation.

Harry snorted, then drew in a deep breath as he suddenly fell back down onto the bed dressed in something that resembled, at first glance, a droopy loincloth.  The falling was caused by the fact that Hermione had lost her concentration on the levitation charm and broken out into laughter.

“Hmmph…glad somebody thinks that the situation is funny,” he complained.

“Oh, Harry…you look quite handsome dressed that way,” Parvati said with a giggle.

Healer Patil sighed. “I hate to break up the revelatory fashion show, but…a letter has arrived addressed to you, Harry.”

The statement immediately put everyone on guard.

“How did it arrive?” Hermione asked.

“By a local Muggle messenger service.”

Harry frowned. “Any idea whom it is from?”

The Healer shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no magical signature attached to it that I found,” she replied. She then looked at the witches who were now all close to Harry’s side and said, “Not that it wouldn’t be prudent for a second opinion or third opinion to be obtained?”

Hermione and Padma both nodded and cast diagnostic charms towards the letter that the older witch had pulled from a pocket.

“I’ve got nothing,” Hermione replied, after performing her most sensitive magical detection spells.

“Me either,” added Padma, once her spell casting was complete.

So…sometimes a letter is just a letter?” Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and nodded…not that it kept her from acting cautiously. She asked Healer Patil and Parvati to cast overlapping shield charms while Padma levitated the letter into to a remote corner of the room. Once positioned there, Hermione cast a nifty little spell that remotely broke the envelope seal and pulled the letter out (more then one cursing or kidnapping attempt had been foiled this way).

Harry thought that the spell was particularly nifty, in that the complex wand motion gave him a great side view of Hermione’s gorgeous breasts.

Healer Patil’s eyes went wide, not from Hermione’s exposure or from any release of magic that the opened letter released, but rather from the markings on the expensive stationary.

“It’s from the Maharajah’s house!” she declared, pointing to a crest that held a conch shell on a field of crimson.

“Whose house?” asked Harry.

“The local prince,” Parvati replied, as she dropped her shield and walked towards the letter. She plucked the letter out of midair, scanned the text, and added, “He’s invited the four of us to tea tomorrow afternoon.”

Harry immediately frowned. “Who is he, what does really want, and how does know that we’re here?”

Padma chuckled. “Paranoid much, Harry?”

Harry had just enough range of motion to shrug his bare shoulders. “Sorry, but I don’t have a very good track record with rulers and politicians.”

Padma smiled. “Well that’s true enough…but in this case, it might be no more than it seems.”

Healer Patil nodded. “I have met the Maharajah on more than one occasion, Harry. I consider him to be a rather benevolent monarch.”

Hermione frowned. “I thought that all of the heads of the Princely States gave up power when India was formed as an independent country?”

Padma nodded. “That was only for the Muggle parts of their kingdoms…it didn’t affect their status as the rulers of India’s magical states.”

Hermione bit on the lip that was still frowning. “Are you telling me that there were parts of India governed under combined Muggle and magical regimes as recently as fifty years ago?”

Padma smiled, nodded, and shrugged her shoulders all at once.

Harry chuckled. “Oh, Hermione…don’t tell me that part of the wizarding world’s history isn’t covered in Hogwarts, a History…it would devastate me!”

Hermione scowled and punched Harry in the arm. Not having a normal senses of balance due to his injuries, he couldn’t help but topple to one side. Fortunately, Padma was there to catch him before he toppled to the floor.

“Thanks for saving me,” Harry said to Padma, as he flashed her a brilliant smile.

“Any time, Harry,” she purred.

Healer Patil broke the “moment” by saying, “I have a copy of the Indian version of that book, if you’re interested, dear.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up at the prospect as the other three teenagers laughed.

“If she’s interested…” Parvati mimicked, as if there couldn’t be any doubt on the matter.

When Hermione cast her former dorm mate a dirty look, Parvati responded by placing herself in between the bushy-haired witch and Harry’s loincloth-covered lap.

“Go ahead, slug me if you must,” she offered. “I’m sure that Harry will catch me.”

“But he can’t use his arms?”

“Then his lap will catch me…even better!” Parvati decided.

“Okay, so Hermione’s going to get her curiosity satisfied,” Harry stated. “How are we going to respond to the offer? It’s not like I’m in a right state to chit chat with royalty, much less hold a tea cup.”

“A fair point,” Healer Patil replied. “If you like, I can send a reply offering your regrets, noting that your injuries don’t allow for travel.”

Harry nodded. “I like it…we don’t say ‘no’ to the prince…we just say ‘not now’.”

“And that might give us time to determine if it’s ‘tea’ or something more then that,” Hermione added with a nod. She then looked towards the remnants of their shared meal, and added, “Well that was a delicious lunch, don’t you think?”

Harry chuckled. “Never get in between Hermione and an unread book.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad…am I?” she asked.

Harry, Parvati and Padma all looked at each other, then turned to Hermione and replied in unison.


“Well, then, no need for me to worry about making a graceful exit, then,” she decided.

“Yes, by all means abandon your patient and go with Auntie to the library,” Parvati replied, as she hugged Harry to her side. She then turned to him and loudly whispered, “Don’t worry, Harry…I’ll stay here and nurse you back to health.”

“I didn’t know that you were lactating, Sister dear,” Padma quipped.

“I don’t know that I am either,” Parvati replied, “but I’m willing let Harry find out.”

“Girls!” Healer Patil chided. “There will be none of that in this room.”

Parvati frowned. “Can we take Harry outside, then?”

It was Hermione’s turn to scold.


Healer Patil chuckled as she looked out the window towards the beach.

“There will be no attempts at lactating for Harry’s benefit, either here or outside. That said…it is a lovely day, now that a breeze has picked up. Perhaps an hour or so fresh air would be therapeutic.”

“A layabout on the beach?” Parvati asked. “Excellent…I’ve got just the right swimming costume to wear.”

“That’s fine, dear,” her Aunt replied. “So long as it’s worn underneath your sari.”


“I’ll not have my nieces parading their barely covered bits out in public,” the Healer declared.

“Who said Parvati was planning on covering them?” quipped Padma.

“Especially not in front of our hospital,” the older witch added, ignoring her niece’s catty comments. She then turned towards Hermione and said, “Now I can’t expect you to do the same, dear, but…”

“I’ve no plans to wear anything less then Padma or Parvati,” Hermione quickly offered.

“Thank you, child. I know that most European women choose to be scantily clad on our beaches, but…”

“I wager that it’s more out of selfishness then respect,” Parvati stated.

“How’s that?” asked Hermione.

“Because if you wore one of those costumes with more string than fabric, you’d have Harry literally falling all over you.”

“Don’t tempt her, Sister,” Padma cautioned.

“Hmmm,” Hermione said with a smile, as she placed a “thinking” finger to her lips. “What would I prefer…a book in my lap, or Harry’s head in my lap?”

There was a pause, as everyone waited for somebody else to offer up a quip. Then laughter erupted, as each derived amusement from unspoken, independent punch lines.

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