Content Harry Potter
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Author Notes:

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

“So let me get this straight, Harry” Roger Granger said. “A wicked old witch wants a bottle of your sweat in exchange for an antidote that needs to be administered to Ron Weasley before lunchtime, or else he dies. But it can't be run-of-the-mill sweat, can it? No sir, it needs to be collected off of your naked body by one virgin female while you are in the middle of shagging another virgin female.”

The dentist rose from his chair and started to pace back and forth behind his desk like a caged lion. “Now does it have to be any specific virgin female?” he asked rhetorically. “Apparently not, and despite the fact that you have a fan club of teen-aged witches, any number of whom would jump at the chance to jump your bones, it's my daughter's virginity that you want to claim. And you come to me not to ask for my daughter's hand, or to court her, or even to ask if you can shag her, but to ask for my permission for the two of you to engage in safe sex. And if I refuse to sign the permission slip, the two of you will still shag in order to save your friend's life. The only difference will be that nine months from now, Hermione and you will become the parents of twin baby witches, because diagnostic spells show that she's at the peak of her fertility and you've got Olympic-caliber swimmers in your spunk.”

He caught his breath before asking, “Have I left anything out, Harry?”

The young wizard looked down at the floor and nervously ran his hand through his unruly hair, still unsure whether it would have been easier to discuss this in front of Luna and Poppy. Not that Hermione's father had given him that choice, when he sent the two away with the statement that he wanted a few minutes alone with Harry.

Nervously clearing his throat, Harry responded. “Just the fact that while this appears to be the only way we can save Ron's life, that Headmistress McGonagall and St. Mungo's are still trying to find an alternative source that wouldn't require Hermione and me to go through with this.”

Roger Granger snorted in disbelief. “Require you and Hermione to go through with this?” he asked incredulously. “You sound implausibly reluctant…I should think that you'd be planning some correspondence…something like `Dear Penthouse Forum, I'm a seventeen-year-old wizard and you'll never believe what happened to me the day my best mate decided to tumble into a pool of poison'….”

The dentist's comments immediately transformed Harry's nervousness into righteous anger. Bristling with indignation, he snapped right back.

I, for one, don't think it's something to joke about, Sir. The fact is that I am incredibly reluctant to have to go down this path and take something so precious from your daughter, even when it's offered freely! And I would have hoped that after all of the Sunday dinner visits this past summer that you would thought better of me.”

The deep breath that Hermione's father had been holding during Harry's reply came out on its own accord, and took with it much of the machismo that had been building during his paternal-protective adrenaline rush. Roger slumped back down into his chair and poured himself another scotch.

“I'm sorry, Harry, you're absolutely right,” he sighed. “It's just that Hermione's my little girl, and….well, I guess you have to be a father to understand the protective…”

A knock interrupted Roger's rationalization, and Hermione's mother popped her head in the door. “Roger, dear,” she said, “could we borrow Harry for a few minutes?”

The dentist pouted. “But I've barely started to scare the bejesus out of him!”

“Yes, Dear,” she replied. “I know dear. It will just be a few minutes, though.”

Harry liked the sound of getting out from in front of Hermione's father, but was worried that he still didn't understand the situation. But then he got a very bright idea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pensieve and controller, shrunk and kept with him for just this sort of purpose. “Maybe it would be easier to accept if you could see what happened?”

Roger nodded, having been introduced to the workings of a pensieve earlier that summer, when Harry used it to show him a few Quidditch matches. Harry tapped his wand on the two items, bringing them up to full size, then concentrated on the specific memory to extract. While he was pulling out the wisp from his temple, Roger picked up the controller. “What's this?” he asked.

Once the memory was safely swimming in the pensieve, Harry looked up and smiled.

“That, sir, is a production prototype for a pensieve remote control.”

Roger looked down at the stone version of a Muggle remote contol and smiled. While there were several unreadable runes carved into different buttons, the international symbols for “play,” “fast forward” and “rewind” were also inscribed. “So with this thing I can control the memory?”

Harry nodded as he tapped the edge of the pensieve with his wand. Since Muggles like the Grangers couldn't dive into the memory, he cast the spell that created a three-dimensional projection directly above the pensive. “It was Hermione's idea, and her charms work. We have one of my wizard manufacturing companies gearing up to mass produce them. Should have them on the market by Christmas.”

“And she did this even while she was helping you with your research project?”

Harry shrugged. “Smartest witch in her generation,” he said, with no small bit of pride. “And soon to be one of the wealthier ones as well, if the goblin's sales projections are accurate.”

The pensieve's projection was frozen on a view of the Hogwart's infirmary, just before Harry and Hermione had learned that Slughorn had identified the poison. Harry pointed out who everyone one, and noted that once the scene shifted that the only new characters were the Headmistress and the hag. Mr. Granger hit the “play” button and the scene started to play out (complete with Ron's convulsions.) He then hit the rewind button and was delighted to see the three-dimensional mini-Harry and mini-Hermione walk backwards out of the infirmary door.

Emily saw her chance and grabbed Harry's elbow. Ushering her out of her husband's office she said, “Give the man a remote control….” Once the office door closed she told Harry that Hermione needed to talk with him privately in her office. Madame Pomfrey, apparently, had left to help the Order members on guard duty raise the ambient magic levels of the neighborhood so that their apparitions back to Hogwarts wouldn't be detected at the Ministry.

Hermione's mum had planned on giving Luna of a tour of the practice, but got called back into her husband's office with word that she should watch the memory as well. Luna squeezed Harry's shoulder and told him that she would stay with the Grangers to answer any questions.

When Harry walked into Mrs. Granger's office he found Hermione sitting behind her mum's desk, writing at a furious pace. It took him a few seconds to realize why the scene seemed slightly off: rather than quill and parchment she was using a ball-point pen and paper notepad.

“Harry,” Hermione said warmly, once she noticed that he had entered the room. “Take care of the door, would you?” After shutting the door, he cast silencing and locking charms to ensure their privacy.

“How's dad taking it?” she asked.

“About as well as could be expected, I imagine,” Harry replied. “Set up the pensieve so that they both could see what we're up against…have to say that your mum looked a bit warmer to the idea.”

“Yes, well she always was the pragmatic one in the family,” Hermione said with a smile. “Didn't take long at all for her to offer up some good suggestions.”

“Really? Like what?”

Hermione looked up at Harry and laid the pen down on the desk. “Well, for starters she pointed out the obvious…that despite how awkward the situation is, that Ron's life is on the line and that there's no time for embarrassment or worrying about acting out of character, or dancing around issues. Later, no doubt…but not right now.”

“Makes sense to me,” Harry said.

“Well that's good,” Hermione said, “because I need you to rub one off for me.”

Harry choked out a “What?”

Hermione looked up from the notepad and sighed.

“Harry...we need to focus here…would it be any easier if I used clinical terms and asked you masturbate to completion?”

The-Boy-Who-Lived did his “fish out of water” thing with his mouth, and then replied. “Erm, let's stay clinical…I don't think I could handle you talking dirty right now.”

“Great.” Hermione replied. “Mum said that you could surf for porn on her computer, if that would help speed things along.” She then stood up and walked around to the front of the desk. “Mum also thought you could do it here in her office while we were off to the chemists, but I think you should do it right now, before we go.”

“Right now…you want me to wank off, right now….with you in the room?” Harry asked with amazement. “And why do you think that would be better?”

Hermione patted his shoulder then reached down and flipped the hem of t-shirt up and over her head, revealing a pretty red lace bra. “Well, first off,” she said matter-of-factly, “I'm not so sure about your internet search skills, and there's no need for you to flounder about in a titty-search on Google when the real thing is available.”

With that comment she peeled the thin straps off of her shoulders, deftly reached back to unhook herself, and pulled the bra off. Two lemon-sized breasts with small pink and perky nipples were revealed.

“They're not as large as what you might find on the net,” Hermione continued, “but Luna said that Ron seems to like it when she kisses herself, so that might compensate.” Hermione then grabbed her left breast and tried to make tongue contact.

Harry choked out a cough. “Hermione! What are you doing! This isn't like you at all!”

“Well of course it isn't,” she said, “but Ron's life…remember? No time for embarrassment.” She looked up, having failed to put her tongue on the mark, and sighed. “But to answer the first question, I'm multi-tasking Harry….boys are supposed to be easily aroused through visual stimulation, right?”

“Erm, yes…but let's back up to why I should be wanking off in your mum's office.”

“Sure,” she replied, as she sat up on the front of the desk, flipped off her sandals, and began to run a toe up one of his legs. “First off, I need to know the length of your fully erect penis.”

Harry, who was having a difficult time keeping his eyes from straying below Hermione's naked neckline, asked. “Wouldn't it have just been easier to ask?”

She smiled a reply. “Yes, I've heard that boys have this compulsion to know how they measure up….so you know, for certain, whether you'll need regular sized or extra-large condoms?”

“Erm, no, can't say I've ever used one before.”

“That's what I thought…length matters there, you know….Mum thought it'd be best if we were in and out of the chemists as fast as possible, so making sure we have all of our data in hand will help.”

“Oh, right….wait a minute…you really were talking about my penis length with…wait, stupid question, you already said she gave me permission to porn surf…didn't she have a ruler?”

“Sorry…we already looked.” Hermione then tried, but failed, to reach her tongue to her other breast. “Damn,” she muttered, “either they're too small or my tongue is too short.” She looked up and added, “Well, you get the idea, I hope.”

Harry took a couple of steps back and slumped down into an office chair. “I don't think I'll need extra-large condoms,” he said, “and you didn't have to do that for me.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, feeling a bit dejected.

“Not that I don't appreciate the effort,” Harry quickly added. “You have beautiful breasts, Hermione.”

“You really think so? I wish they were larger…”

Harry smiled. “Yes, I really do think so. And if you'd been looking at the tent in my trousers a few seconds ago you would have seen the proof of it.”

“Oh,” Hermione said again, before breaking eye contact to look down at the front of Harry's pants. She then let out an even louder “Oh.”

“Erm, Harry,” she then said, “There's another reason why you might want to drop trou for me right now.”

“Why's that, Hermione?”

“Mum said that she'd get dad to sign the permission slip, but only if she was certain that we knew how to use the condoms that we purchased.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was quite insistent,” Hermione replied. “In fact, before we head back to the castle she wants to watch me put one on you.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, dead serious…she's not ready to become a grandmother. Of course, I could always practice for her using something other than your penis, but…”

“And how would dropping my pants help you practice wrapping something other than my penis?”

Hermione chuckled as she looked over at the desktop and picked up a stapler with her left hand. Pulling out her wand with her right she replied, “By modeling for, me, silly boy, as I put my transfiguration skills to good use.”

Harry squinted at Hermione until he understood what she was saying. He then let out a large laugh. “This is so ridiculous,” he said, but not before he stood, undid his belt, and let his pants fall to the floor. He recaptured Hermione's gaze, then again dared her to break eye contact as he carefully lifted the top of his boxers out and over his erection.

She lasted all of three seconds.

“Oh my,” was all she said (in English, at least). The Latin incantation and wand movement then began to reshape the stapler into a life-sized ebony-colored phallus.

“Couldn't have used a banana, could you?” Harry teased, as she did her work.

“No, this is too important to approximate,” Hermione replied with a smile. “Besides, it gives me a chance to show Mum what I've learned at school.”

As if she were following up on that thought, she knelt down by Harry's right side, then reached up and lightly grabbed his erection. When Hermione's fingers make skin contact, Harry jumped and let out a yelp. This caused Hermione to reflexively grip harder, and to lean forward to gain balance against his thigh. In this new position, her right breast was pushed up against the side of his knee, the side of her face was pressed against his hip, and her warm breath was wrapping itself along the length of his shaft.

“Hermione, what are you doing?”

The bushy-haired witch  looked up at Harry all sweet and innocent. “Just checking the details. You know I take pride in my work.” She then placed the phallus alongside Harry's erection and grabbed her wand in order to improve the resemblance.

“So tell me, Harry, what's his name?”

“Who?”

“Your penis…what's your penis's name?”

“Why do you think he'd have one?”

“Well, from what I've heard Lavender and Parvarti say, all boys name their penis…something like Harry Jr., or…”

“He doesn't have a name.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, looking up. When he nodded his affirmation she added, “Well that's too bad…it might be easier to talk about these things if he had a name.”

“Well why don't you give him one, then?” Harry asked, with a one-off tone of voice.

“Maybe I will,” Hermione said with a smile. By this point, the “careful inspection,” that she was performing to improve on the phallus's appearance was involving a whole lot of handling.

Harry thought that there was no need for Hermione to do what she was doing. He was, in fact, quite convinced that she was getting him excited on purpose. Unfortunately, for as innocent as her halo had made her out to be, she was very, very good at getting him excited. Too good, in fact, for him to complain, or do anything other than close his eyes…and tilt his head back…and focus on how she was gently stroking him back and forth and….and….

“'Mione,” Harry said with a panic as he suddenly opened his eyes, “You need to stop that or I'll…I'm going to…”

Ejaculate placed the exclamation point on his incomplete sentence.

“Oh, shit,” Harry gasped, as the first bit of spunk lobbed in a graceful arc up landed on top of the desk. The second pulse hit the side. The rest dribbled down his shaft as Hermione, who had continued her ambush hand-job during the release, pointed the tip of his glans up against his body.

“Merlin, I'm sorry,” Harry exclaimed, as he looked down at Hermione. Her smile was a rather perplexing response.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” she replied. “That was the plan, remember?”

“What…spray cum all over your mum's office?”

“Nothing a cleaning spell can't take care of.”

“Right,” Harry said sheepishly. He reached down to grab his wand out of his back pocket (currently located down around his ankles) and pointed it towards his crotch and Hermione's hand. She quickly slapped it away.

“No magic,” she scolded. “Don't you remember?” She then grabbed a box of kleenex from the desk, and began to clean him up. Harry didn't notice her sneak a glance at the wall clock.

“Hermione, why did you just wank me off?”

She smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “Well, while Dad was raking you over the coals we were sitting here trying to lay out the choreography for the real deal. Poppy said that even if you were working up a good lather that it would take at least a minute for Luna to collect enough sweat for the potion. And then mum echoed my fear that, as virile as you are, Harry, you might not last a minute once you're inside me. So mum suggested we go on-line for some advice on how you might have more control when it really matters.”

Harry noticed that as Hermione was explaining herself that she doing more stroking than wiping. “Hermione, I'm clean, now.”

“Yes you are,” she replied, making no effort to stop. “So as I was saying, we went online to find out more about premature ejaculation and that's what they suggested as a potential short-term remedy…to take the edge off, as it were.”

“You went on-line…figuring that I suffered from premature ejaculation?” Harry asked.

“It's nothing to be ashamed about,” Hermione explained. “Happens to the majority of teen-aged males, according to the web site.”

“Oh really?” Harry asked. “And how do the experts define premature ejaculation?”

“Well...the working definition is something like the man reaching orgasm before his partner wants him to.”

“Thought so,” Harry said, as he reached down and stopped her hand from it's rhythmic movement. “So how can I be premature if I've never had a partner before?”

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together. “Good point,” she replied. “Let's say, then, that we were concerned about the potential when you do have a partner.”

“Yeah, have a partner within the next hour and a half,” Harry said sarcastically. “Any worries about how much time it would take me to get hard again?”

She shrugged. “Not really,” she replied, as she restarted her “cleaning” efforts. “Which raises a good point, though…we need a back-up virgin in case you do orgasm inside me before Luna finishes her work.”

“A back-up virgin?”

Hermione shook her head, as if a teacher were admonishing a student. “Harry, we are limited by time, not by virgins. You can't have a do-over with me, and even if Luna steps up to the plate I won't be able to collect the sweat once you get hard again and get inside her…so we need a back-up.”

“Oh, well, guess you're right.”

“Of course I'm right, Harry,” she said sweetly. “Now we're open for suggestions. Poppy asked us to try and limit ourselves to the sixth or seventh-years, if at all possible.”

“Really? Did she have anyone specific in mind?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“Well, unofficially, of course, she did. What do you think about Mandy Brocklehurst?”

“Seventh-year Hufflepuff? Hmmm…pretty, but I don't think I've ever said three words to her.”

“Oh, somebody you know, then,” Hermione said. “Hmmm, well we can throw out the obviously unqualified like Lavender, or Parvarti.”

“Why would Parvarti be unqualified?”

“We need virgins, Harry, with a capital V.”

“Oh, well I guess I wouldn't know.”

“Right….like you boys don't talk about these things…let's see, now, sixth-year Gryphs…no, seventh year Ravenclaws… how about Padma?”

“Don't think so,” Harry replied. “She still mad at Ron and me over the Yule Ball fiasco.”

“Right then, sixth-year Ravens…you don't know any besides Luna, I guess…and the Puffs…oh, Merlin, why didn't I think of her in the first place?”

“Who?”

“Susan Bones.”

“Oh, well yeah, Susan's nice and…”

And we have a winner,” Hermione said rather loudly, as she pulled hand back to show a resurgent erection. She looked back up at the clock again and said, “Five minutes…hah! I told mum that we wouldn't need to worry about Viagra.”

Harry looked down and realized that he really was hard again. For some reason he seemed rather embarrassed by the fact, and he responded by reaching down and pulling up his trousers.

Hermione shook her head as she stood and binned the sticky kleenex.

“Pigtails and titties…I should have known.”

“Should have known what, Hermione?”

“That Susan Bones would be your type…I mean, why not, with a rack like that?”

Harry scowled and put a hand on each of his friend's naked shoulders.

“Hermione, I think Susan is very nice, but not because of her bodacious ta-ta's.”

“You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings…”

“No, you listen to me!” Harry replied, starting to get angry. “I am quite sure that it was your right hand that got me hard again, and not the thought of Susan's breasts.”

“Really?”

“Argghh…I can't believe we're discussing this…look, Hermione, if I was a tit-man why would I have had any interest in Cho….or Ginny?”

“Hmmm, maybe because Ginny might grow into her mum's?”

“Oh, now there's an erection killer, if I've ever heard one.”

That comment broke the tension, and they both laughed quietly, as Hermione started to get dressed again.

“So what does get you off, Harry?” she asked off-handedly.

“What if I said bushy brown hair and a tight bum?”

Hermione jerked her head up in response.

“You don't have to say that, you know…”

“Even if it's a truthful answer to the question?”

“Yeah, right.”

Harry looked closely at Hermione and let out a deep breath. Almost imperceptivity, he reached back for his wand, and with seeker-quick reflexes fired off a body-bind spell that hit her square in the chest. A silencing spell quickly followed, catching her scream before it even tried to get past the silencing charms.

“I'm sorry that you wouldn't believe me otherwise,” he explained. He then raised his wand in the air and cast a wizard's oath as Hermione's eyes bulged out.

“On my magic, I swear that I find Hermione Jane Granger so incredibly sexy that she's been the subject of at least three wet dreams in the past two months.”

A bluish glow of magical energy pulsed outward from Harry's body, strong enough to blow Hermione's bangs away from her face. He waited a few seconds, just to make sure that he'd spoken not just the truth, but a truth that his magic couldn't twist on him, then brought his wand down to release Hermione's binding and her voice.

“Harry!” she shouted, as she ran and pulled him into a bear hug. “That was the stupidest, most idiotic, most lame-brained, courageous, romantic, exhilarating thing you have ever done!” After a few sobs she added, “Don't you ever scare me like that again!”

The desk phone interrupted the embrace, and when Hermione looked at the caller id she recognized the mobile number.

“Mum?” she asked after picking up the receiver. “Erm, yeah, we're fine…be right out…bye.” She then hung up and told Harry, “That was Mum.”

“So I gathered,” he replied dryly.

“We should go,” said Hermione, as she threw her t-shirt back on and wiped the tears from her cheek. “Need to mind the time.” She quickly tidied the office with a spell and retrieved her notepad. As she walked towards the door, Harry reached down and picked up the transfigured stapler. “Hey,” he said, as he tossed it towards her, “you left your penis.”

Hermione caught it, gave it a look, and smiled. “It's your penis, not mine,” she replied with a smile. “Oh, and Harry...”

“Yes?”

“His name is Mr. Phoenix.”

oo00OO00oo

When Harry and Hermione returned to her father's office they discovered that Tonks had joined the group. “Headmistress asked me to come fetch Harry and Madame Pomfrey,” the young pink-haired witch explained. As one of the Aurors assigned to the protection of Hogwarts, and one of the very few that the Trio had trusted with access to their secret hideaway, Tonks was quite used to being a go-between.

“Poppy has already returned…the hag is back, and apparently there's a contract to review. McGonagall also wants an opinion on how much time Ron has left, but she won't let the hag anywhere near him unless Poppy is there.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” Hermione replied. She then turned to Luna and noted, “You should go back as well. If there's enough time, you could practice using the blade and sample bottles. Maybe see if Susan would be willing to practice as well, just in case.”

“So Susan is going to be the back-up virgin?” Luna asked.

Hermione nodded, while her father asked, “What's this about a back-up?”

“Roger, Dear,” Emily replied, “as much as you might think that this is some contrived way to rationalize your daughter having sex, this is all about saving that nice young man's life…if Harry, here, comes inside Hermione before Luna collects enough sweat, they will need Luna and another virgin to act as the back-ups.”

Roger turned towards Harry and squinted slightly. “This keeps getting better and better for you, eh?”

Harry shook his head and said rather gravely. “I assure you, Sir, that I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that your daughter is the only woman that I need to deflower today.”

Mr. Granger' face turned a bit red as he considered both the logic and absurdity within that response. “So will it be Luna or this other girl if that isn't the case?”

Hermione ears perked up at that question, realizing that Harry and she hadn't talked about that in her mum's office. “Harry, I know that you might not want to answer, but we should have that contingency covered in advance.”

Harry looked at both Luna and Hermione for a moment, then said, “Well, if that has to be the case, then…all things considered….Luna, would you…I mean, only if necessary, and not all the way to, erm…completion, but just until we got the sweat we needed for Ron?”

“Of course I would,” Luna said with a smile. Hermione reached over towards Luna with and motioned for Harry to join them in a group hug.

“Assuming,” her father said a bit snidely, “that Harry could recover in time?”

Breaking the embrace, Hermione turned towards her father and replied, “I'm quite sure that won't be an issue.” When she saw her mum cock an eyebrow, Hermione turned to her with not-so-hidden pride and noted, “Only took five minutes.”

Mrs. Granger snorted out a smile and asked, “With or without the prostate massage?”

When Hermione replied “without,” Harry asked what a prostate was and how it was massaged. Roger Granger, who had been looking over at his wife in shock, told Harry that if he didn't know that it was best left that way.

“So,” Tonks said, “now that we've established that Luna is the maidenhead of honor, we should get going.” When Hermione told Tonks that they hadn't visited the chemist yet, Tonks told Harry that she'd stay behind and make sure that Hermione made a timely and safe return to the castle.

“Not,” Tonks added, “that I think she'll be dragging her feet, or anything.”

When Harry asked Mr. Granger if he still needed the pensieve, Roger replied that he'd send it along with Hermione. He did, however, sign the parental consent form and gave it to Harry for delivery to the Headmistress.

“You be good to my little girl, Harry,” he said, as he held out his hand.

Harry shook Roger's hand and assured him that he would. Harry then gave Hermione a hug and a chaste kiss, telling her to meet them just outside of the Room of Requirement. Finally, taking Luna's hand, he side-apparated her to the gates of Hogwarts Castle.

Hermione noted that her dad seemed to be more comfortable with the situation than he was earlier, and asked whether that was due to something her mum said, or something within the pensieved memory. When he smiled and hit the rewind button on the remote control, Hermione assumed that he was going to go back to the point in time where the images of two cute potential grandchildren appeared. But he blew by that moment, and instead stopped the memory at a point when Harry and the three teen-aged witches were talking outside of McGonagall's office.

“Hermione,” Roger said, “you know that I want nothing but the best for you. Since your mother and I trust your judgment so much, well…most of the time, what we want will overlap what you apparently want.” He then hit the “play” button.

Hermione cringed, having put two and two together. She watched silently, and considered whether, given what had happened just a few minutes previous, she was disappointed that Harry wasn't there to see what he had missed the first time…

Having just admitted that she'd been shagging with Dean Thomas, a teary-eyed Ginny stepped on to the moving spiral staircase and disappeared from view.. Hermione and Luna then turned to each other and smiled, with each thinking about the absurdity of the situation that they were in. Hermione turned and asked Harry which of the two he wanted to shag, and Harry replied, “Hermione, as if you needed to ask.” He then gave each of the two girls a hug, turned, and opened the door to the Headmistress's office.

Perhaps too focused on the mission to remember his manners, Harry walked in first, rather than step back and hold the door for the two girls. With his back turned, Harry wasn't in a position to see a smiling Luna as she turned and gave Hermione a “thumbs-up” gesture. And he certainly couldn't see Hermione as she pumped both fists in the air, silently mouthed a triumphant “YES!” and did a three-second long happy dance.

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