Content Harry Potter
  • Previous
  • Next

Author Notes:

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

When Hermione woke for the second time that morning, the corners of her lips crept up into a content smile. She was draped naked over Harry’s body, with her head resting against his chest, and her inner thigh resting against his bits. The fabric that had originally served as her sari now covered them both, acting as thin blankets that kept at bay a cool offshore breeze coming in through an opened window.

“Oh look, Parvati,” Hermione heard somebody whisper. “Sarawati looks rather pleased with herself.”

“You’d be smiling too if you’d just shagged Shiva,” Parvati quietly snarked back.

Hermione decided not to immediately correct the record. She opened her eyes, and hissed, “Ssshh…let him sleep.”

“No worries there,” Padma replied. “He’s been snoring with that goofy grin on his face the whole time that we’ve been here.”

“How long…”

“Geez, Hermione…if you don’t know that by now…” quipped Parvati.

“Hush…what time is it?”

“Brekkers,” Padma replied as she nodded towards a tray filled with banana leaves and bowls of food. “As soon as you two decide to get out of bed.”

Hermione smiled. “Then come back in twelve hours and we can call it dinner.”

“Oh, you little minx,” Parvati cooed. “So did you ride facing him, or reverse?”

The brown-haired witch shook her head. “No riding…just rubbing.”

“Really?” Hermione’s dorm mate asked with disappointment. “You didn’t shag?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, get to it then, girl,” Parvati ordered. “I want to cross that off the list and see how far that brings us up behind.”

“What?” asked Hermione. “What list?”

Padma chuckled as she held up a parchment scroll.

“Parvati and I were compiling a list of…activities…in an effort to determine whether there was rhyme or reason to our Auntie’s behavior.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a checklist for sex,” Parvati said plainly. “We’re comparing how far you’re getting with him with what we’ve been allowed.”

“And also documenting how much fun we three can have without raising a flag.”

Hermione grinned, and waggled her eyebrows.

“Didn’t we establish that there aren’t any constraints between the three of us last night?” she teased. “I mean, if she didn’t intervene when we transfigured Parvati’s dildo into ‘Three-headed Harry’ and rode each other…”

“Yes, yes…but we couldn’t do that here, in Harry’s room, could we?” Parvati replied. “Our little show while dressing you yesterday was stopped just as I was about to slip my hand into your skirt.”

Hermione nodded. “So that seems like a fairly clear line in the sand.”

“Ah, but maybe that line moves each day,” Padma said with a smile. “The first time we changed into dragonhide for Harry’s treatments Auntie made us leave the room. But now it’s fair game for us to sit with him without our cholis on, and to show him our breasts while we change clothes.

“Ah…that’s it,” Hermione said. “You two are hoping that if I can snog Harry, you can kiss; if I grope, you can snog…and if I shag, then maybe you two can…”

“Exactly,” Padma hissed, her breath shortening as she put images to Hermione’s words.

“Well that’s an interesting hypothesis,” Hermione purred, as her eyes twinkled with delight. “It’s also a testable hypothesis.”

“Yes…yes it is,” Padma purred.

“Assuming, of course, that Harry is on board with that test.”

“Do you…do you think that’s the case?” Padma asked.

Hermione thought for a moment, then nodded. “Things are still new, and fresh, and…might take a while for him to wrap his head around the idea of a quadrilateral relationship…”

“I know what I want to wrap around his head,” Parvati quipped.

“Well that’s a given…so where do we stand?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “You two are being allowed to stay in Harry’s room and talk with me while he sleeps and I drape my naked body over his.”

“Ha! I knew you were starkers under those covers!” Parvati replied in quiet triumph.

“Right, then…the next incremental step would be what?” asked Padma.

Hermione’s eyes twinkled even more brightly as she considered the possibilities.

“Well…from my perspective…we can either wake Harry up and see if that makes a difference, or…we can make our sleeping lover a fixed variable, and see what…what we can get up to ourselves.”

Padma pursed her lips and let out a deep breath.

“Do you have anything…specific…in mind, Hermione?”

The bushy-haired witch waggled her eyebrows as she slowly dragged the inside of her leg up the length of Harry’s erection. She stopped once her mound hit his hip bone, and a quiet purr escaped from her lips when a bit of strategic positioning brought her most sensitive spot into direct contact with his warm bare skin.

Hermione lifted her head from Harry’s chest just high enough to allow her to steal a glance towards the closed door.

“So far, so good,” Parvati whispered, as she too noticed the lack of her Auntie’s intervention.

“So far, so fucking brilliant,” Hermione hissed, as she dropped her head back down to Harry’s chest, hugged his torso a little tighter, and began to grind down upon his hip.

Padma’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the cloth-covered wet-hump unfold. She slipped her right hand underneath her sari top and began tease her left nipple between thumb and forefinger. Her focus on her female lover’s show was so intense that she failed consider whether her actions were adding an unconstrained variable to the equation, or to notice that her sister was mirroring her actions.

Hermione, however, didn’t fail to notice.

“That’s right,” she cooed. “You know I love to watch…love to watch you both…as much as you love to watch me…”

The prone witch’s words sent a shiver down Parvati’s spine. She sighed, and pressed against her skirt-covered mound with the heel of her opened hand.

“Show me more,” Hermione hissed. “Show me that you’re both as excited as I am right now.”

Parvati’s eyes went wide and she immediately glanced towards the door.

Hermione chuckled. “What’s the matter, Parv…don’t have ‘Padma and her sister flash their fannies and bring themselves off with their fingers while Harry sleeps in the same room and Hermione humps his hip’ written down on that checklist?

The light brown witch snorted, and shook her head.

“So do you want to take the time to write that scenario down now…or fill it in after the fact?”

Padma snorted, and whispered, “Your question assumes fanny flashing in either case, doesn’t it?”

Hermione smiled a Chesire Cat-like grin in response, and picked up the pace of her grinding attack upon Harry’s hip.

“But if Harry wakes up, and sees us diddling ourselves?” Parvati asked.

“That’s…that’s something you wouldn’t want to happen, then?”

“Well, no…I wouldn’t mind...”

“We wouldn’t mind,” Padma corrected.

“But…but Auntie?”

“Has already demonstrated…” Hermione replied in between pants, “a keen ability…to know when Harry is asleep or awake… Not to mention…a fair idea…of what we’re doing…in this room…at any point in time.”

“So…,” reasoned Padma, “if he stays asleep, it’s no different than what we’ve done upstairs, and if he wakes…either Auntie will stop us in advance, or she won’t.”

“So test those limits, already,” Hermione hissed fervently.

With one last glance towards the closed door, Padma nodded, reached down, and grabbed her hemline. The strategic shifting of weight allowed her to gather the garments up above her hips without getting up from her spot on the sofa. The light-brown skinned witch then scooted her bum forward, leaned back against the cushions, and lifted her left leg up and over the arm of the sofa. Her sister mimicked these fanny-exposing steps, and added one more when she draped the leg not resting on the sofa arm over top of her sister’s leg.

Hermione groaned as the Twins, with eyes firmly focused on the bed (instead of each other), reached down and exposed themselves even more. Half-realizing that their play hadn’t yet been interrupted from parental surrogates, the bushy-haired witch pushed forward.

“Oh, you naughty girls,” she smirked. “What would Harry think if he were to wake and see you like that?”

The touch of a twitching penis against Hermione’s inner thigh immediately suggested that her question might be more than hypothetical. She immediately stopped her grind and looked up, only to find Harry’s eyes still shut.

Sensing a different type of game now afoot, the bushy-haired witch scooted up Harry’s torso and dropped her shoulder onto the bed on the side opposite the twins. This action provided an ideal position for Hermione to reach down and take Harry in hand.

“It would be quite the dilemma for Our Harry if he were awake right now,” she cooed. “He might be afraid that this was a dream, and that if he opened his eyes that the show would end…or that your Auntie would intervene. But if he didn’t open his eyes…then he wouldn’t be able to see Padma run her fingers through her silky black short and curlies…or see Parvati’s cute little pink nub peeking out from its hood…”

A second twitch led Hermione to conclude that her play had a wider audience than first thought. She replied by giving Harry’s shaft a light-gripped stroke that ended with her thumb covering its bulbous crown.

“Yes, it probably would be best all around, were Harry now awake, for him to keep his eyes closed, and pretend to be asleep,” she declared.

Padma snorted. “And just imagine what the three of us are doing in the meanwhile?”

“Not necessarily,” Hermione replied brightly. “He certainly would know what I was doing, just by touch…and as for you two, well…maybe it would be even more exciting if he were to listen to my commentary?”

“What?” Parvati hissed.

“He might enjoy me describing what you two are doing,” Hermione explained. “He might get off on my dirty talk…on me describing how Padma just rested her head on your shoulder and is presently working in inserting a second finger past the second knuckle. Or how you just reached down and grabbed your arse cheek, and placed the tip of your middle finger just a fraction of an inch away from your back door…”

A confirmatory twitch kept Hermione following down this verbal pathway.

“Or he might just get off by you giving him a hand-job?” Padma observed, using a huskier-than-normal voice.

“Yeah…show us, Hermione…” Parvati hissed.

Their bushy-haired lover smiled. “Hmmm…no, I think not,” she decided, as she gave Harry’s shaft another loose-gripped stroke. “If he can’t watch you two rub your buttons, then it’s only fair that you don’t get clear views of me giving him some…vega relief.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it now?” Padma teased.


“You know….” Padma hissed in response.

A more detailed retort was lacking, as the Ravenclaw chose to focus more on buffing and less on banter. As the twins got closer to their releases, Hermione toned down her running commentary, and allowed the pants and mews and moans to speak for themselves.

The smartest witch in her generation tried to line up her male lover’s release in time with those of her female lovers…as they picked up their pace, and their cheeks flushed, and their toes curled…she grabbed hold a little tighter, and stroked a little faster. But the clenching of Harry’s stomach muscles and a barely audible grimace suggested that either her sense of timing was off, or her smutty talk was more exciting than she had anticipated. She tried to ease off, and slow down, but Harry’s bits had other ideas, and released their load into Hermione’s hand.

The bushy-haired witch’s sense of failure was quickly overshadowed by lust, as the Twins followed Harry in short order. Not feeling a compelling urge to get herself off, Hermione was content to drop her head down next to Harry’s, drop her hand back underneath the sheets, and to whisper what she was witnessing while she gently cupped his bits.

When Padma and Parvati caught their breath and opened their eyes, they turned towards each other and began to giggle as they considered what they’d just done.

“I guessing that Harry will be awake soon,” Hermione stated. “You two better cover your bits.”

Parvati snorted as she lightly dragged her fingernails up her inner thigh. “Why don’t we see what happens if he wakes up while we’re still like this?” she asked.

Hermione grinned. “Because we need to test your hypothesis in incremental steps.”

“But…he’s already seen your bits, hasn’t he?”

Hermione grinned as she sat up in Harry’s bed, and scooted her bum back until she could rest her bare back against the head board.

“Yes he has…but not while you two have been with us,” she replied. The bare-breasted bushy-haired witch waited until the Twins readjusted their saris, then reached down and cupped the face that was resting against her bare thigh.

“Harry?” she sweetly asked. “Time to get up.”

The-Boy-Who-Won groaned, yawned, then slowly opened his eyes, giving an acting performance so convincing that Hermione wondered whether he really had been asleep the whole time.

“Hey,” he said groggily, as he looked up at Hermione’s face.

“Hey yourself,” she replied, as she pulled his glasses from the nightstand and put them in place.

Harry grinned as Hermione’s nipples came into focus.

“I just had the most amazing dream.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Parvati snarked, as she stood and walked to Harry’s bedside.

Harry did a doubletake, shifting his gaze between the two brown-skinned witches and the two light-skinned breasts.

“Ready for some breakfast, Harry?” asked Hermione, as she magically adjusted the bed and brought him up into a sitting position.

The black-haired, bare-chested wizard snorted, then glanced down at the material that was gathered at his waist.

“Could you help me with a little…clean-up?” he asked with a slightly-guilty grin.

Parvati tried to be “helpful” by pulling out her wand, and pulling down the sheets.

“I can clean you up, stud,” she purred.

A voice from outside the room shouted, “Parvati!”

The Gryffindor witch pouted.

“Incremental steps, indeed,” Padma noted, as she brought the breakfast tray over to the bed.

Hermione smiled and nodded her head as she pulled out her own wand and lifted the sheet away from Harry’s body so that she could employ a discrete cleaning charm.

Once she dropped the material back down, she reasoned, “Well, if you two can’t see all of Harry, then…I guess we need to keep these sheets on…and if these sheets are really my sari, then I guess I can’t get dressed for breakfast, can I?”

Parvati snorted. “We could always go and get you a different sari, you know.”

“I suppose,” Hermione replied with a sigh. She then turned towards their patient and asked, “What do you think, Harry?”

The-Boy-Who-Won chuckled, and shook his head.

“Don’t feel like you have to get up just because of me,” he replied.

Padma giggled as she stared at Harry’s crotch.

“Why you’re just a little hypocritical aren’t you?”

“What?” Harry protested.

“So…she doesn’t have to get up because of her, but even after your…amazing ‘dream’…you’ve gotten up because of her.”

Harry looked down at his resurgent cloth-covered erection, then at Hermione’s bared breasts, and then, finally, back at Padma. He smiled, and asked, “Well, can you blame me?”

The black-haired witch’s eyes lit up as she shook her head slightly, leaned forward and pulled Hermione into a snog.

Harry watched the two witches go at it over his limp body, and shook his head in amazement.

“Didn’t think so,” he muttered.


The Boy-Who-Won woke that afternoon to the sounds of crashing waves and giggling girls. It wasn’t as physically stimulating or revelatory as his morning waking…but how could one top that experience? Of pretending to sleep while Hermione rubbed him off, and rubbed herself off on his hip, and described Padma and Parvati rubbing themselves off?

Harry smiled contentedly and slowly opened his eyes. He was sitting upright in his sedan chair on the beach. Parvati sat on his left side, stringing flower petals into a necklace, while Padma and Hermione leaned against the right side of his chair and held hands while they huddled over a book.

“Hey…what’s so funny?” he asked.

Hermione turned, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Harry…we didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’alright…so what are you reading?”

“The Kama Sutra.”

“Really?” Harry asked, as he angled his head. “Giggling over the dirty pictures, then?”

Padma snorted, and held the book up, revealing opened pages that contained only Sanskrit text.

“We’re being good, Harry…wanted to save review of the instructional illustrations until you were awake and able to…help us with the practical.”

The black-haired wizard waggled his eyebrows. “Well, I’m awake now.”

Hermione glanced down at Harry’s crotch and snorted. “Yes you are, aren’t you? But…we’re in public…and Auntie’s no doubt watching us through the window…”

“And we left all of our gourds up in our bedroom….” Parvati snarked.

“Gourds?” Harry asked.

The question provoked a fresh round of giggles.

“Padma was just translating instructions for harem members,” Hermione explained.

“Harem members?” Harry asked, as he arched his eyebrows. “They’ve got instructions like that…in there?”

“Oh, yes, Harry,” Padma replied. “There are all kinds of guidelines for day-to-day life. Everybody thinks it’s just a how-to guide for shagging, but there’s a lot more to it.”

“I see,” Harry replied. He grinned, and asked, “So what kind of instructions are there for…harem members?”

“Well, there’s an entire section that describes how a harem could sneak men into their quarters by dressing them in women’s clothing,” said Padma. “A rather risky practice, actually…if the men were caught they were given the necessary job qualifications for becoming harem guards.”

“Foxes allowed to guard the hen house?” Harry asked.

“Not unless the foxes were neutered,” Hermione quipped. “Harems were traditionally guarded by eunuchs.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he winced.

“Oh, man…if my legs could move I’d be crossing them right now and covering my bits.”

“Here, let me help,” Parvati quipped, as she reached over and protectively cupped Harry’s dhoti-covered crotch.

“Parvati!” a voice called out.

The witch in question rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand.

“Can’t see how Auntie can even attend to her other patients when she’s always got an eye on us,” she whined.

Harry snorted, then turned towards the other two. “So what had you all in giggles when I woke up...the thought of lopping of some bloke's bits?”

Padma responded with a pretty blush, and a shake of her head.

"They were a different set of..instructions."

“Oh, go on, don’t play like you’re the shy one,” Hermione chided. “Read it.”

“Yes, Memsahib,” the Ravenclaw replied with a demure smirk. She then turned back to the printed page, and began to translate from Sanskrit to English.

The women of the royal harem cannot see or meet any men on account of their being strictly guarded, neither do they have their desires satisfied, because their only husband is common to many wives.”

Hermione interrupted with a secondary translation.

“So, Harry…what that means…”

“That only the husband can shag the harem, and since he’s being spread around between all of his wives he can’t keep all of his women satisfied?” Harry asked.

Hermione’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly!” she replied. She then turned to Padma and instructed, “Continue on with the lesson, luv.”

The black-haired witch smiled, and nodded her head.

For this reason, among themselves they give pleasure to each other in various ways as now described. Having dressed the daughters of their nurses, or their female friends, or their female attendants, like men, they accomplish their object by means of bulbs, roots, and fruits having the form of the lingam, or they lie down upon the statue of a male figure, in which the lingam is visible and erect.”

Harry lost his eyebrows to his hairline. “So that’s where the comment about gourds came from?”

Parvati nodded, and leaned over to give the wizard’s cheek a kiss.

“You’re so smart…and smart is so sexy, Harry…”

“And that’s why you and Hermione are…what did you call it, Padma…’accomplishing your objects’?”

All three girls tittered at the question.

“It is a rather awkward metaphor, isn’t it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, cut the authors some slack,” whined Padma. “The text is thousands of years old…can’t expect them to be plain spoken on the subject.”

The bushy-haired witch waggled her eyebrows. “No, but maybe you could provide Harry with a more…modern…interpretation of the text?”

Padma blushed. “But you’re the one that likes to talk dirty, Hermione,” she protested.

“Moi?” the brown-haired witch teased. She then glanced at Harry, leaned forward towards Padma, and loudly whispered, “That’s supposed to be a secret between us girls.”

“Shouldn’t have provided this morning’s over-by-over accounting, then,” Parvati quipped.

Harry snorted. When all three witches turned towards him, he wiped the grin off of his face and innocently asked, “Erm…did I miss something this morning, girls?”

“Not bloody likely,” Padma said softly.

“So,” Harry said loudly, “about that modern translation?”

“You…you really want to hear something like that?”

Parvati pointed towards his crotch. “Of course he does Sister…he’s already anticipating it.”

Hermione snorted. “Oh, Parvati, that’s hardly definitive proof…he’s always hard.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No, merely an observation.”

“Nothing merely about that wand,” Parvati snarked. “You should know, given how closely you like to…observe it.”

“I am right here, you know,” Harry interjected in false protest.

Hermione turned, and gave Harry a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, and we’re all the luckier for that…so, Padma…quit stalling.”

The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes. “Don’t need me to read between the lines.”

“Perhaps, but there’s a difference between what we need, and what we want,” said Harry.

Padma turned towards the wizard and asked, “And so…you want me to?”

“Of course…unless it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

The light brown-skinned witch smiled coyly, and nodded as she turned back to the opened page.

“Okay, then…from the top…the women within a harem are sexually frustrated, and always horny, because their dickless guards keep them from shagging any man other than their common husband. Even if their husband is a stud, and always hard, and has a huge…lingam…”

“Lingam?” Harry teased. “Is that a modern translation, then?”

Padma rolled her eyes. “Right, so…one penis shared by many vaginas creates a lot of sexually frustrated women. These women are allowed to relieve this frustration by shagging each other with cucumbers or fat carrots while they wait their turn to warm their husband’s bed.”

“And what about the statue with an visible erect lingam?” Harry teased.

“Or they can get off by bouncing up and down on top of a male blow-up doll,” Parvati quipped.

There was a moment’s pause, as each of the four waited for the others to ease the unresolved sexual tension with another joke. When no bon mots came to mind (because the minds were filled with far more images than words at that moment), Harry decided to push forward like the good Gryffindor that he was.

“Right, well…don’t want to seem critical of your culture, Padma…Parvati…but…those instructions are rather…erm, sexy….but aren’t they also sexist?”

Hermione arched an eyebrow. “How do you mean, Harry?”

“Well, I’m just a guy, so what do I know…but…that seems to be saying…that the only way a wife within a harem could get off is when she’s either with her husband, or with another woman who is pretending to be her husband.”

Light danced with the eyes of all three witches as Hermione encouraged Harry to continue.

“And that’s sexist?”

“Erm…maybe…I mean, it might not be if all of the wives were straight…but why do they need to pretend to be the husband? What if the wives were attracted to each other…as themselves…as women…as their wives, too?”

Harry’s question earned him several kisses from three different sets of lips.

“Oh, Harry…you’re such a…you mean you don’t mind that…”

“I’d be a fool not to,” the black-haired wizard replied matter-of-factly. “Not that I’m entirely certain of what you three do upstairs, or what you do when I’m pretending to be asleep…”

“I knew it! You were pretending!” Padma admonished.

“Erm…that was what you wanted me to do…wasn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but…still…”

“So, Harry, dear…would you like to become certain of what we girls like to do upstairs at night?” Parvati asked.

Harry blushed, and stammered, “Erm…well…sure…”

“I’d rather hear Hermione tell those stories, sister,” Padma quipped. “She does, after all, have a much more…colorfully descriptive vocabulary.” She then turned to Hermione and false whispered, “Just don’t tell him about the anatomically correct stone statue of Harry that’s stashed under your bed.”

“Or the life-sized strap-on latex Harry that you like to pound us with…” Parvati gleefully added.

The Boy-Who-Won coughed loudly as Hermione’s cheeks turned bright red.

Fortunately for her, a motorized confrontation behind them put an end to the bantering.

An autorickshaw and its tinny little horn was going head-to-head with the deeper and more resonant horn of a four-door sedan. The car horn blared for only a few short beats, but that was enough to gain the right of way, and to continue down the road.

"So the bigger the vehicle, the briefer the horn?" Hermione asked, as the four watched the street scene.

"Yes, it would seem so," Padma replied. But then she took a closer look at the car and added, "It also helps that the sedan's passenger outranks the autorickshaw's fare."

Harry snorted. "So it's someone rich or important on their way to the mosque, then?"

Padma shook her head as she stood, closed her book, and brushed the sand from her skirt. "Well, it’s someone important alright, you know the saying about the not being able to bring Mohammad to the mountain?"

"Yes, why?"

Hermione snorted in realization as the car came to a stop just outside of the hospital. She then turned to Harry and ran her fingers through his bangs in a futile attempt to tame them.

"Time to go, mountain," she said with a smile. "The Maharajah has come to pay you a visit."

Padma nodded as she placed the Kama Sutra on Harry's lap and stepped behind his sedan chair. "I've got the back poles," she announced.

"I've got the front poles, then," Hermione replied.

"Guess that leaves me the middle pole," Parvati announced with a grin, as she reached for Harry's crotch.

"Parvati!" called out her Aunt.

"Yes, Auntie....we're coming, Auntie," she whined. She sighed and then added quietly, "I wish."

Go to Chapter 10

Back to the Alternative Medicine Portal

  • Previous
  • Next