Content Harry Potter
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Author Notes:

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

Harry Potter quickly learned whether the knot tied into his dhoti would be constraining when Healer Patil reminded his three nursemaids that they needed to wear their cholis outside of his hospital room.

Parvati, in response, bent down by his bedside to retrieve her cropped shirt.  When Harry let a sigh hiss through his teeth, she asked, “Is something wrong?” 

Hermione leaned down to gain Harry’s perspective and giggled at the full side view of her dorm mate’s dangling breasts.

“Not from what I can see,” she quipped, flashing Harry a wink.  She then performed her own waist bend and asked, “Has anyone seen my choli?  It might have been kicked underneath the bed.”

“You two are such teases,” Padma admonished, as she reached for her own garment, which had dropped onto a side chair.  Accusations of pots calling kettles black were subsequently made when she turned her back to Harry and casually flipped her sari shawl off of her shoulder.

“What?” she protested, as she glanced back.  “Do you hear Auntie complaining?”

Harry caught his breath at the sight of Padma bared to the waist.  Or more specifically, the view of her bared back, combined with a reflected view of her bared front (as provided by a bamboo-framed mirror that hung from the wall). 

“I’m certainly not going to complain,” Harry whispered. 

Parvati took her turn gaining Harry's perspective and chuckled at the reflection of the perky brown nipples that sat high on her sister’s teardrop shaped breasts.

“I can see why you wouldn't,” she quipped, just before she stole a kiss from Harry's cheek.

“Come, Hermione," she then said. "Help me help my sister before she gives our love a heart attack.”

Hermione caught sight of the mirror, calculated reflection angles, and nodded as she followed Parvati’s lead.  She cast a furtive look out the doorway, then proceeded to provide “help” that did nothing to ease his heart rate.

It took a good two minutes for six hands to cover two breasts and fasten five buttons.  And then Parvati slipped her shawl off of her shoulder, and the process was repeated.  The care taken to maintain clear sight lines and reflection angles allowed Harry to determine that the identical twins had nearly identical torsos.

“Oh, darn,” he said with mock disappointment.  “I finally spot a definitive way to tell the difference between you two, and then you go and cover it up.”

Hermione giggled, looked over Parvati’s shoulder towards Harry, and gave him a reflected view of her fondling her dorm mate’s covered left breast.

“Now Harry,” she whispered, “how could you tell from there that Parvati has the cutest little mole at ten o’clock?”

“Ten o’clock?” Parvati asked.

“Sure,” Hermione replied.  She then tapped out a large circle centered on Parvati’s left nipple.

“There’s one o’clock, and two o’clock, and three…”

Parvati waggled her eyebrows as she reached up, pulled Hermione’s shawl off of her shoulder, and pressed her now-naked shoulders back against the wall

“Oh, look, Padma,” she said,  “Hermione has two clocks, and they each need winding!”

“Parvati!” Hermione hissed, as she looked first towards the empty doorway, and then to Harry, who now had a direct line of sight towards her naked chest. 

While Parvati’s actions had come as a surprise, they didn’t reveal more than what Hermione had herself exposed to Harry earlier that morning…and from a much closer distance.  It was the fear that either of the Healers Patil might walk in and catch her that way that was offputting to Hermione.

Sensing this, Padma moved so that her body blocked the view from the door.

“Now Hermione…you promised my sister and me that we would be the ones to dress and undress you, didn’t you?”

The bushy-haired witch half-heartedly tried to mumble an affirmative response.  Even the brightest witch in her generation found it hard to think when she was standing topless in front of Harry. 

Harry’s eyes were locked onto Padma and Parvati’s hands and fingers as they fondled and caressed Hermione's breasts...the purple nail polish that contrasted with the darker pink of the areolas...the silver rings and bracelets that caused his girlfriend's breath to catch whenever they grazed or caught her taut nipples...the light-brown skin tones that complemented Hermione's paler flesh.

Hermione thrilled at his interest...and smirked when she realized he was holding his breath.

"Breathe, Harry," she cooed, in a seductive drawl that caused his crotch to twitch at irregular intervals.

Hermione's boyfriend let out a deep breath in response, then caught Hermione's gaze.  There was a moment in which feelings of love, arousal and desire were shared.  But then Harry smiled…and gave her an almost imperceptible head nod that Hermione took as an expression of understanding and…acceptance?

An insistent pair of lips that pressed against the corner of her mouth gave Hermione the chance to test the hypothesis.  She turned and caught Parvati's mouth in a tongue-twisting snog.  Giving up all pretense of helping Hermione dress, Parvati responded by running her fingers through Hermione’s hair, and ground her skirt-covered crotch against Hermione’s thigh.

Harry moaned at the sight of the two witches snogging, realized that he could hear Hermione’s groan over his own, and then jerked his head towards the doorway.

Auntie Patil was quiet, suggesting that she was either ignorant of the situation (which Harry thought doubtful), or accepting of the situation (which Harry thought impossible).  He snorted, returned his gaze towards the girls, and smiled when he caught Padma also minding the door.  She turned at the sound, returned Harry's smile, and winked…just before she returned her full attention to Hermione's nipple and neck.

The next thirty seconds seemed like an eternity to Harry (he wouldn’t have been that far off, had he projected out all of the times that he would replay this scene in his head over the balance of his lifetime).  He watched with held breath as Padma and Parvati ravished the upper half of his girlfriend.  It wasn’t until Parvati’s fingers began to slip inside the waistline of Hermione’s sari that the moment was broken.

“Padma…Parvati…come and fetch the palki,” their Great Aunt called.

“Oh, Morgana…now she decides,” Parvati hissed. 

Padma snorted as she broke her embrace and reached down for Hermione’s shirt.  “Are you surprised, Sister?” she asked as she stood up and slipped Hermione’s arm through one sleeve.

“No…just…frustrated,” Parvati replied, as she helped dress from the other side. 

“You’re not the only one,” Hermione hissed, as she pressed her knees together and tried to catch her breath. 

Padma followed Hermione’s gaze and snorted at the size of Harry’s tent.  She then blocked Hermione’s view and stepped in front so that she could button the front of the witch’s shirt.  As Parvati began to rewrap Hermione’s sari top over her shoulder, Padma leaned forward, placed a kiss on Hermione’s cheek, and smiled.

“Whether by coincidence, or design, Auntie is giving you the chance to discretely tend to our patient’s needs…unless you’re daring enough to take care of your needs at the same time?”

Hermione snorted, then shook her head as she looked over Padma’s shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t want to rush that kind of therapy…would you?”

“Padma? Parvati?”

“Coming, Auntie,” the twins replied.  They quickly pecked each of Hermione’s cheeks, gave Harry some giggles and grins, and padded lightly out of the room.

Harry and Hermione watched the retreating hip sways, then turned to face each other.

 Harry chuckled to himself.  “So…”

 Hermione smiled, glanced at the doorway, and then bounced onto the bed. 

 “We’ve only got a few minutes,” she whispered.  “What do you want me to do?”

  Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, then waggled his eyebrows. 

  “My choice?”

 “Well…within allowable time constraints,” Hermione said brightly.

 “Then give me the chance to taste their lips on yours,”  Harry countered.

Hermione stared at Harry with disbelief for a faction of a second…and then attacked him with a leg-straddling, fanny-grinding, spit-swapping snog.

When the two were forced to break for air,  Hermione panted, “Tell me where you want my hands, Harry.”

“Wherever you want them, love.”

“No, Harry…really,” Hermione gasped, as she nuzzled against his neck and trailed her fingers down his chest.  “I want you…I need you…my hands are your hands…whether you need to itch, or rub…tell me what to do with them.”

“Well then,” Harry whispered slyly.  “To be honest…if my hands were working right now...they’d be more eager to rub your fanny than mine.”

Harry’s admission caught Hermione off guard…enough to cause her to fling herself back into a sitting position on his bed.

“You…what...really?” she asked.

Harry tried to shrug his shoulders.  “You asked, Hermione…if my hands worked and we were both worked up, I’d want you to…get off…before I did.”

Hermione stared at Harry as she processed his logic.  Upon reaching the argument’s end point, she flashed him a brilliant smile and dropped down to snog him some more.

“Best…boyfriend…ever!” she exclaimed in between kisses. 

Hermione then suddenly jumped off the bed and dashed to a front corner of the room, where something that Harry hadn’t noticed before lay.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, as Hermione opened the worn flap of the bottomless rucksack that he’d carried for months on end.

“Ssshhh!” Hermione replied.  She then added with a whisper, “Thought this might… So I… Yes!”

The shimmering fabric of the folded garment that Hermione pulled from the rucksack allowed him to fill in the blanks. 

With eyes wide, he whispered, “I was only joking.”

Hermione snorted as she slipped his invisibility cloak over her shoulders and leaned back against the wall, a few feet down from the open doorway.  When she pulled the hood up her head disappeared, leaving visible the foot wide strip of skin and sari between her opened robe front.  She then took a deep breath, told Harry that she wasn't joking, and reached down to take hold of her hemlines.

Harry shot a glance towards the opened doorway and then to Hermione as she began to pull up her skirts.  Mindful of the opportunity she was presenting, and trusting in her ingenuity, he sat back and thanked his lucky stars. 

His breath hitched as the hemline rose above Hermione’s knees.  He clamped his mouth shut when it reached her thighs, so fearful he was of saying something to draw attention.  This didn’t do anything to stop the gurgling from his throat when Hermione cleared her waistline, and proved visually that she hadn’t been wearing knickers…and that she was just as curly and bushy-haired brown below as she was above.

“Shhh!” Hermione admonished with a sly grin (that Harry couldn’t see). She then drew her wand and cast a sticking charm that tacked her gathered skirts up above her waist. 

The “cone of silence” charm that Hermione cast on herself allowed her to moan openly when she dropped a hand and dragged her middle finger up the length of her mound.   Then, as her off-hand took sentinel with a firm grasp of her robe front, Hermione spread her legs to shoulder width, bent her knees slightly, and began to show Harry (in a weird, beheaded, partially visible way) exactly where she wished his hands and fingers could be at that moment.

Hermione knew that she was on the clock, and didn’t have much time as her fingers took up a frantic pace.  But she also knew that she didn’t need that much time...given Padma and Parvati’s antics, the view she had of Harry’s tent pole, and the look in his eyes as she provided a show.  So she focused, and concentrated, and rubbed with a single-mindedness that kept her from hearing sounds from the hallway, or make sense of the wide-eyed frightful glance that Harry made towards the opened doorway.

It wasn’t until Padma was through the door with the front half of the hospital’s sedan chair that Hermione realized that she was in danger of being caught out.  She quickly slammed the front of the invisibility robe shut, and took full advantage of her silencing charm to howl out expletives in frustration.

“Erm…Hey, Padma…what’s that?” Harry asked nervously, as his eyes shifted from Hermione’s position to the contraption that hung from both Padma’s and Parvati’s shoulders. 

“It’s a palki…the Indian equivalent of a wheelchair,” Padma replied, as they set the chair down onto the floor.  Ducking her head below the long poles that had been balanced on their shoulders, she asked, “Where’s Hermione?”

“Erm…she stepped out, to…use the loo,” Harry replied tensely.

“Did she, now?” Parvati asked, as she gave an obvious glance towards his crotch.  “Well, that wasn’t very nice, leaving you like that…without lending a hand.”

Harry snorted, and muttered, “She had me almost there without using her hands.”

“What’s that?” Parvati asked with a grin.

“Nothing…nothing at all,” Harry replied defensively.  “So…the idea is for me to sit in that chair and be carried about like I was a sultan?”

“Well…I think that sultans did get carried here and there, but this is standard hospital issue.”

Harry frowned.  “Will you be able to carry my weight, though?”

Padma smiled, reached down, and effortlessly lifted the wooden device with one hand.

“Guess I should have clarified…with the featherlight charms applied, it’s standard wizarding hospital issue.”

“Oh,” Harry replied.  He frowned when he caught sight of a bent knee that briefly escaped his cloak before Hermione recovered it.  She had apparently dropped into a full squat, and gotten back to work.

“So…I imagine Hermione will be back soon, if you two wanted to carry me out she could follow along, right?”

Padma followed Harry’s eyesight, and began to ponder a puzzle.  Her sister beat her to the solution, though, using one of the other senses.

“Sounds like a plan, Harry,” she said brightly, as she drew her wand and levitated him into the chair.

“Mind the pole,” Padma instructed.

“I’m looking right at it,” Parvati quipped, having used Harry’s lap as her spell’s target.

Padma snorted, and helped positioned Harry’s legs as he was slowly dropped down onto the seat.

“Well maybe Hermione can help with this when she’s done,” Padma offered with a smile.

“As far as I can tell, she just finished,” Parvati quipped, as she scooted back underneath the rear poles.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, as Padma did the same, and they lifted him up into the air.

“Oh, nothing…just thinking of an old saying.”

“Which one?”

“The one that…” Parvati replied.  She then leaned forward whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Remind me to tell Hermione that hear no orgasm and see no orgasm doesn’t mean that we can’t smell no orgasm.”

Harry caught his breath, and then let it out in a belly-laugh as the twins carried him out of his room.
 

oo00OO00oo


Padma's first attempt to lead Harry's litter across the narrow street that separated he Patil's ayurvedic hospital from the beach was brought up short by a noisy blur of yellow-painted metal and diesel fumes.

Beeeep!  Beee-eee-eee-eee-eeep!  Beep Beep Beee-eee-eee-eeep!

"Bloody hell! What was that?" Harry asked.

"A bludger on wheels," Padma replied.

"What?"

"They're called auto rickshaws," Parvati explained.

"Beeeep!  Beee-eee-eee-eee-eeep!"  called out the golf-cart sized vehicle, as it swerved to avoid a humped cow standing idly on the road.

"Is one hand always on the horn?" Harry asked.

Padma nodded.  "Unless they disable the brakes and hook the horns up to the brake pedals." She then looked left, then right, then left again before venturing out into the dirt-covered street. 

"Wonder how I never heard them through the opened window in my room," Harry mused, as they navigated two short steps from the road down to the back beach.

"Magic," Parvati replied.  "The windows are charmed to filter out unwanted noise."

"Smart," Harry replied, as he tried to look back at the hospital.  "Mind if you give me a full three-sixty?"

"Sure, Harry,” Padma replied, as she began to slowly turn back towards the hospital.

The late afternoon beach-level vistas that Harry was provided revealed many of the same things that Hermione had spied from the top floor of the hospital earlier that morning.  The fishing boats were beached, with a few of their owners about mending nets, or trading stories as they smoked foul-smelling hand-rolled cigarettes called "bidis."  These men all wore long-sleeved open collared business shirts obove their dhotis.  The rolled-up sleeves revealed arms that were just as spindly and dark-skinned as their legs and faces.

The Patil's blindingly white three-level hospital stood in the center of the palm-fringed cove, with the pink-walled mosque anchoring one end, and a glass and concrete tourist hotel on the other.  The one-story wooden shops and houses that filled in the gaps between these buildings blended into the lush foliage...which seemed just a little more lush, and a little more verdant on the hospital grounds (Padma explanained that dragon dung fertilizer worked as well in India as it did in Britain).

While Padma and Parvati paused, Harry took a moment to study the large, hand-painted signs that announced the hospital's therapeutic services in English, Malayalam, Hindi, and Sanskrit.

"Why so many languages?" he asked, as they swung the sedan chair back towards the sea.

Padma replied, "Because there are so many different languages spoken in India, Harry.  Malayalam is the local tongue, but Hindi is the official language of Muggle India, so everyone learns that as well."

"English is for the tourists, then?"

"Not necessarily," Padma replied.  "There are political issues at play.  Hindi is the primary language in the northern half of India, and many South Indians accused the Northerners of cultural imperialism when they tried to make Hindi the only official language after Independence. So as a result, English is more often a bridging language down here."

Harry thought that Hermione would have been far more interested in this than he was, but that didn't mean that he wasn't interested, or desirous of being polite.

"So what's Sanskrit, then?" he asked.

"It's the ancient language of India," Padma replied.  "Almost all of the great ancient texts...poetry and drams, scientific and religious works...they were all written in Sanskrit."

"It's the equivalent of Latin in Western Europe," Padma chimed in.

"Are there people that speak Sanskrit, but don't speak Hindi or English?" Harry asked.

Parvati shook her head. "That's just a subtle code that announces it to be a magical hospital.  Hardly anybody speaks Sanskrit any more, unless they're spell casting."

"So...does that mean that Sanskrit incantations are used instead of Latin?"  Harry asked.

Padma nodded.  "That's right."

"Sounds like something that Hermione is going to want to learn, then."

"Hey, you might want to as well, Harry...learning Sanskrit has other practical uses."

"Like what?"

"Well," Parvati was with a wink.  "I've always thought that the Kama Sutra is far more informative and erotic when it's read in the original language."

"The Kama Sutra?" Harry asked.  "Isn't that some type of sex manual?"

"That would be a coarse, but accurate summary," Padma replied.

Harry thought for a moment, then smiled.

"Well, then...perhaps we'll have to have a little book club, and have you two do the translation for us."

"Just the translation?"  Padma asked with a pout.  "Don't want us to help with the practical as well as the theoretical aspects of your study?"

"Erm..."

"Relax, Harry," Parvati said with a grin.  She looked over the chair and spied a vendor with wares loading down the back of his bicycle. 

"Are you thirsty, Harry?" she asked.  "There's a tender coconut seller over there."

Harry strained to follow Parvati's gaze, and spied a sweaty young man who had a very big knife in hand as he stood next to two bunches of fresh green-husked coconuts.

"How do you drink a confection?" he asked.

"A confection?" asked Parvati.  "You mean you've never tasted fresh coconut water...or coconut milk?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not exactly a staple on the Hogwarts menu, is it?"

"Well you're in for a treat, then, Parvati replied, as she stood and bounded out towards the vendor.

Tired of bending his neck, Harry remained facing front, and the waves that were breaking twenty feet away from his feet.  He took in a deep breath of fresh sea air, then leaned back to let the sun warm his face.

"This is nice," he said. 

"What's nice...the beach, or me finally having you all to myself?" Padma asked.

Harry turned and squinted at the Ravenclaw.  "Both, actually...though can we truly say that we're alone with your Auntie's ever present eyes and ears?"

"She might be busy, you know,” Padma replied.

"Want to find out?" Harry said with a grin.

"Is that a proposition, or a proposal to test a hypothesis?" Padma asked.

"Whatever you want it to be, Padma," Harry replied.

The black-haired witch smiled in response, then leaned forward, kissed Harry on the cheek, and aimed her hand towards his crotch. 

"Padma, mind yourself!" called out Healer Patil from across the street.

"Yes, Auntie," her niece whined, as she leaned back and sighed. "You'd think she's rented out Mad Eye Moody's magical eye!"

"It's not that bad...all things considered she's been brilliant," said Harry. A more detailed assessment was held off by Parvati's return.

"Hey Harry, fancy my coconuts?" she asked, as she held two of the liquid-filled husks in front of her chest.

The-Boy-Who-Lived looked at each of the coconuts with curiosity.  The vendor had used a machete to trim off the tops, and expose the white meat at the top.  Just enough had been sliced off to allow plastic straws to be poked through, until they rested within the hollow, sweet water-filled interiors.

"Cheers, Parvati," Harry replied, as he leaned forward and caught the tip of one straw in his teeth. 

The liquid that he drew into his mouth had a cool, slightly sweet and syrupy taste to it. 

Parvati smiled when Harry pronounced fresh coconut water to be delicious, and set the other down in the sand.

"I’ll leave that for Hermione, then. Shall I get two more, Sister?" she asked.

"None for me, thank you," Padma replied.  She looked towards the sea and added, "I'd rather cool off with a bit of splashing."

"An excellent idea!" Parvati decided, as she pulled her sister up from the blanket. "Do you want us to carry you into the sea as well, Harry?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived shook his head. "No, I'll be fine here...you two go on."

"Okay, then...call if you need us," replied Padma. 

Harry smiled, and assured them that he would. 

Given the way that the twin sisters were dressed, Harry thought that the two would only go so far as to get their feet wet.  He was therefore quite surprised when the two bounded into waist-deep water and began to splash about fully dressed.

Or almost fully dressed, that is...as the sea proved when it pulled back its water in between waves, and left behind skirts whose thin translucent fabric clung tightly to underlying skin.

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" Harry hissed, as he watched what would have clearly been winning entries into a "wet skirt contest," had such a thing existed.

"It is a rather sexy sight, isn't it Harry?" a voice whispered into his ear.

"What...who...Hermione?" he asked, turning his head towards the disembodied voice.

"Ssshhh," the voice replied.  "Wouldn't want to arouse any suspicions, would you?"

"Erm, no," Harry replied.  "So why are you still wearing the cloak?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione purred.  "Never know when you might need to...scratch another itch...without attracting attention."

"Okay," Harry replied with a bit of uncertainty.  He then nodded towards the coconut husk that sat in the sand and added, "Parvati left some coconut water for you, if you're thirsty."

"Oh, wasn't that nice?" Hermione whispered.  A few moments later, Harry heard her ask, "Pay attention to the straw...let me know what you see."

"Sure," he whispered back.  He then watched as the straw disappeared from view and the coconut began to wobble.  A few seconds later, he heard the slurping sound of a emptied container.

"Well that's disappointing," Hermione stated, once Harry described what he had seen.  "I was hoping that the straw wouldn't have disappeared when I put it in between my lips."

Harry frowned.  "Funny, though...why did the whole straw disappear, rather than just the top bit?"

He heard a quiet giggle.  "Who said that I didn't swallow the whole straw?"

"But why would you do that?"

"Why, to practice my oral sex technique, of course."

Harry choked on some spittle in response.

"You okay, Harry?" Padma called out from the surf.

The Boy-Who-Lived turned and called out, "I'm fine, Pad.......Parvati."

An invisible hand that had snaked its way into Harry’s dhoti had provoked the stammering.

Padma looked back towards Harry and frowned.  "Are you certain?"

Harry nodded, and let out a deep breath.  "Couldn't feel better."

"I know that I couldn't feel anything better than this," an invisible Hermione hissed, as she sank her arm deeper into Harry's shorts and wrapped her fingers around his wand.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered, as his girlfriend began to stroke.

"Providing a theraputic massage," Hermione replied with a giggle. "Just sit back, relax, and perv on Padma and Parvati for a few moments."

"A few moments is about all it will take," Harry hissed.

oo00OO00oo


The Twins were a little disappointed when Hermione seemed to appear out of nowhere, and to sit by Harry's side with a book in her lap.  They were even more put out when they joined the couple and noticed that Harry's tent pole had gone missing.

"I thought you'd get off on the sight of us in wet saris," Parvati pouted.

"What...why...who says that I didn't...or that I'm not perving on you two right now?" Harry protested.

"It doesn't look that way," Padma pouted, nodded towards his crotch.

"Oh, sorry...that was my doing," Hermione said, as she looked up from her book.  "Thought I'd practice my massage technique."

"Here on the beach?"

"I was discrete," Hermione protested.

"Obviously," Parvati snorted. 

"I think that your swimming costumes are brilliant," Harry replied with a smile. 

"Sure, you say that now...but will you think that the first time you visit Eve's Beach?"

"Eve's Beach?" Harry asked.

"It's just beyond that rocky point," Padma said with a nod.  "It's where all the European female tourists sun topless."

"Really, now?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.  He then shook his head and said, "Call me crazy, but the way you are dressed right now…it’s far sexier then prancing about in just your knickers."

"You really think so?"

Harry nodded.  "Of course, if you wanted to offer a direct comparison...one of you in a wet sari, the other in just your knickers...."

"You would like that, wouldn't you Harry?" Hermione asked.

"And you wouldn't love?" Harry teased.  "Of course, you'd have to rummage through your luggage to actually find a pair of knickers..."

"Is that a complaint?" Hermione asked.

"Certainly not," Harry replied.  He then turned to the twins and said, "Hey...if you two want to be my hands and feet, how about you drag Hermione into the surf so that all of my drip-dry angels are similarly dressed?"

"Oh, no," Hermione protested.

Padma snorted.  "We best not, Harry...your girlfriend already has the natives restless.  If we give them a glimpse of Hermione's nipple through wet fabric, they'd riot."

"What?" Hermione asked.  "What do you mean?  Who's getting restless?"

Parvati snorted.  "You haven't noticed, Sweetheart?" 

When Hermione shook her head no, the twin sisters pointed out the half-dozen men who were discretely (and not-so-discretely) watching them from the street and along the beach.

"They must be perving on your swimming costumes," Hermione replied in a low voice.

"No, they're definitely perving on you right now," Parvati declared.

"How can you be so sure?"

 “There’s a rather strident double standard here,” Padma explained. 

 “But it’s not like I’m wearing a thong, like all of the others on the tourist beach,” Hermione noted.

 “That’s true,” Padma noted.  “But what you’re doing is just as racy in their eyes.”

 “How can that be?” Harry asked. 

 Padma sighed.  “European women are considered to be provocative sluts for the way they dress…or don’t dress…on the beach,” chimed in Parvati.  “The local men sneer at them, and call them whores in the native tongue…even as they roam up and down the beach in packs shamelessly staring at their bared bits.”

“So it’s a Madonna-whore complex?” Hermione asked.

Padma nodded. “Sort of…if we wore even modest two-piece bikinis on the beach, we’d risk stoning for our brazenness.  But when a European woman dresses in a sari…”

 “And exposes an incredibly delicious belly-button like yours…” Parvati added.

 “The men would think that they could have their cake and eat it too?” Harry asked.

 Hermione snorted.  “My, Harry…I’m impressed.”

“Hey, I might be clueless, but that doesn’t mean I’m daft…and what’s this about a delicious belly-button?”

 “Never mind, dear,” Hermione replied, as she innocently patted Harry’s thigh.  She then looked warily towards the closest gawker and asked, "So do I have reason to be worried?"

Padma snorted.  "Are you not a witch?"

"Well, yes, but...secrecy statutes and all that..."

"No worries, Hermione," Padma said with a laugh.  "The local men have been properly trained.  Parvati and I have been visiting Auntie for years...and if you're with us, the protection extends to you."

"What kind of protection is that?" Hermione asked.

"The kind that causes painful boils on bits when they act inappropriately."

"Ouch," Harry replied.  "I'd cross my legs in response, if I could."

The three witches laughed at what they assumed was a joke (even though Harry wasn't joking).

"So...if there's some sort of magic involved, why haven't I been attacked by boils and pestilence?" asked Harry.

Parvati giggled. "Auntie must be making some exceptions."

"Lucky me," Harry replied with a smile.

"I think we're all lucky on that count," Hermione added.  She then looked back towards the hospital and asked, "So you often visit your Auntie, then?"

Padma nodded.  "At least once a year, usually over Christmas hols.  Mum and Dad wanted to make sure we keep in touch with our roots."

"I'd touch those roots too if it meant a couple of weeks of this weather in December," Harry quipped. "So if she's a Great Aunt, and a Patil, then her husband is your grandfather's brother?"

Padma nodded.

"Are your...are your grandparents still living, then?"

"Why the sudden interest, Harry?" Parvati asked.

"Well," he replied with a smile, "If what I keep hearing about your father arriving for a visit with marriage contracts in hand, I figure I might benefit from a head start on learning the names of my in-law's extended family."

"Oh, Harry," Padma said, swatting his thigh lightly as she blushed deeply.  Parvati, whose cheeks were no less red, added, "You really shouldn't get our hopes up like that, you know."

Harry paused, wondering if the comment deserved a serious or humorous response. 

Padma decided to fill in the conversation gap, and replied, "Those grandparents are still living, but we've never seen them much...father's father didn't approve of his decision to move to England right after we were born."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Harry replied.  "It's good, then, that you two have an Aunt and Uncle that are good to you."

Parvati nodded. "Harry...you have an Aunt and Uncle too, right?"

Harry hissed, closed his eyes, and shook his head.  "I did...Death Eaters got to them in August.  Not that they were anything worth talking about... I would have given anything to have had Dumbledore drop me onto your Auntie's doorstep rather than theirs."

"Drop you off on their doorstep?" Padma asked. 

Harry narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, before realizing that Padma and Parvati probably knew next to nothing about his childhood.  He relaxed, and smiled when he decided that he felt close enough to the two girls to remedy that situation.

"So have either of you two ever heard the real story about the exploits of the Boy-Who-Lived?"  he asked.

"No," Padma said with a headshake.  "But I'd like to."

"Me to," Parvati chimed in.  "Maybe you could tell them as smutty bedtime stories."

Harry snorted.  "Can't say that there have been many smutty parts to my life story...at least not until recently."

"A situation that we're trying to rectify as quickly as possible," Hermione replied brightly, as she pulled Harry's head in for a kiss.

Padma snorted.  "Any chance that those on-going stories would have more than one leading lady, Harry?"

The young wizard's eyes twinkled.  "Erm, good question...you'll have to direct your inquiries to my casting director."

"And that would be me," Hermione added.

Parvati giggled. "Guess we know whose bread we'll have to butter, then."

"Or whose cake we'll need to frost?" added Padma, as she reached out to scrape her fingernails down Hermione's arm.

"Padma!" Hermione chided.  "As the daughter of two dentists, I forbid you to use sugar-sweetened comparisons in your pervy allusions!"

Parvati reached across Harry to squeeze Hermione's thigh.  "Have you got a better one, then?"

Hermione put her thumb and forefinger to her chin and thought.  "Hmmm...coconuts are way too obvious, and there have already been far too many jokes about lactation today..."

"Maybe they could munch on your mangos?" Harry suggested.

"Oh, that's terrible," Hermione chided.

"How about they mix your masala, then?" Harry asked.  "Or boil your rice?"

"Stir her curry?" offered Parvati with a smile.

"Chew her chutney?" added Padma.

"Oh, you three…" Hermione said dismissively.  "We're all adults, aren't we? Can't you just come right out and ask me if you need to provide cunnilingus to get to Harry?"

"Would they need an excuse to offer you cunnilingus?" Harry asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Hermione turned towards her boyfriend, not knowing whether she should blush or punch him in the arm.

So she did both.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she admonished.

“Yes,” was the reply provided, not just by Harry, but by Padma and Parvati as well.

Healer Patil’s call for them to return Harry back to his room saved Hermione from immediately providing a reply.

Not that it really mattered, as the other three were already convinced of the answer.






 

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