The Sweat of a Gladiator
Ch 8: Co-Ed Naked Dueling Club
By canoncansodoff
Author Notes:
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
A bracing wind hit Tonks and Moony as they opened one of the castle's rear doors on the morning of the sixth day after Ron's accident.
“Still wonder why those two didn't want to meet at the front gates,” Tonks said.
Lupin spotted Hogwarts's Groundskeeper walking towards them with two large paddles in his hand and smiled. “Perhaps they sent Hagrid a less cryptic message.”
“Mornin'” the half-giant said, once he closed the distance. “Fine day for a bit o' flyin', isn't it?”
“Only if you're a penguin,” Tonks snarked as she pulled her hood closer to her face.
As the three scanned the southern horizon a large BOOM crackled through the air above the castle. Tonks and Remus crouched and pulled their wands as a shimmering ellipsoid rushed over their heads. They tracked the blur as it raced out over the Forbidden Forest, and banked into a graceful arc that brought it on a return path towards the castle.
Tonks stole a glance at the half-giant standing next to her and swore. Hagrid hadn't flinched a bit, and was sporting a wide grin as he raised the paddles above his head and began waving them back and forth. Apparently his message was more detailed.
When the elongate orb of air cleared the edge of the forest's treetops it shimmered brightly, revealing something that you didn't see everyday, even within a magical world:
Snakes on a motorcycle. Wearing sunglasses.
Tonks took aim at the sight of a man-sized King Cobra maneuvering the flying machine, only to have Remus pull down her arm. When she turned to ask why he simply explained, “That's Sirius's bike.”
Tonks shook her head in a bit of frustrated disgust as she turned back to watch the “snake” with four arms, four legs and an extra head steer the bike into a silent and smooth landing.
The passenger released her grip on the driver's torso and pulled back the hood of her snakeskin jacket. A cascade of sun-kissed brown curls settled out around a deeply-tanned face that was accented by black wrap-around Oakleys and a diamond nose stud. As the driver set the kickstand she jumped off the bike, pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead, and gave the welcoming party a brilliant smile.
“Hey guys,” Hermione called out.
“That's a rather Slytherin entrance, isn't it?” Tonks called back, as she, Remus and Hagrid walked towards the couple.
That got a laugh from Harry as he swung his leg over the seat and pulled the snake head-shaped hood back from his face.
“Better snakeskin than griffon feathers, eh?”
Tonks chuckled as she closed the distance and gave Hermione a hug.
“Look at you, all pierced-out and leathered-up,” she exclaimed, as she dragged her hands down the supple leather sleeve. Both teens wore close-fitting hooded jackets and skin-tight dark-brown trousers. Harry's jacket looked like the material had come straight from the head and hood of a huge snake.
“Where in Merlin's name did'ya get them clothes?”
“Picked them up in India,” Harry replied nonchalantly, “from a Naga that didn't need the material anymore.”
Remus shook his head and chuckled. “Nagas, Harry? Thought you two were supposed to be on vacation?”
Harry laughed. “Yeah, we did too…but you know how it is, trouble just seems to follow wherever I go.”
“Aren't Nagas supposed to be even more resistant to magic than dragons?” Tonks asked.
Harry shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
“So how did you manage that, Harry?” Remus asked.
Harry smiled as he drew the hood back over his head, drew the Sword of Gryffindor from its hidden scabbard, and poked it through a small gash in the top of the hood.
“Decided to keep it simple,” Harry explained. “Through the mouth and up into the brains worked with the basilisk, so…”
“Sounds like a story t' tell o'er spot o' tea,” Hagrid commented.
“Another time, Hagrid, we promise,” Hermione replied. “Right now we've got unfinished business inside the castle.”
“Fair enough,” the half-giant replied with a roguish grin.
Harry threw a set of keys Hagrid. “Besides,” he said, “Thought you might want to check out the tinkering that was done on the motorbike.”
Remus snorted. “I was wondering about that,” he said. “Don't remember Sirius ever traveling that fast.”
“He could have,” Hermione replied with a smile, “if he had been strong enough to hold on during the ride.”
“Either that,” Harry added, with a grin, “or if he'd managed to get himself engaged to the smartest witch of his generation.”
Tonks let out an involuntary shriek. “Engaged?” she cried out. She immediately reached out for Hermione's hand.
“Harry, that was supposed to be a secret,” Hermione said, in a reproach that was softened by a warm smile. Shaking her head in resignation, Hermione tapped her wand on the back of her hand and muttered an incantation that revealed (if only for a few seconds) an obscenely huge red star sapphire surrounded by eight flawless quarter-caret diamonds.
After hugs and handshakes all around, Harry and Hermione once again promised Hagrid to tell their tale at a later time. The half-giant started the motorbike and sped off and up into the air as the other four headed back towards the castle.
“Engaged, huh?” Remus asked. “Don't think you're doing anything hasty, do you?”
“Erm…not really,” Hermione said cautiously. “We've had more time to consider it than you might think.”
“Oh,” Remus replied, with a bit of confusion. Deciding to resolve that point later he then asked, “So how was the flight up?”
“A bit long,” Harry replied. “Four hours was enough to stiffen my leg back up.”
“Four hours?” Remus asked. “But that's how long it used to take Sirius to get from here to London.”
“Four hours from India,” Harry explained. “Oh, and Hermione and I did stop for lunch in Istanbul.”
“India?” Tonks asked. “Why didn't you just portkey?”
“Erm…gained a little more notoriety down there,” Harry explained. “There was some concern that using the Indian ministry's long-distance portkey for the return trip wouldn't have been safe.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Notoriety for the same kind of reasons, Harry?”
The young wizard shrugged. “Again, it's a rather long story.”
“So how have things been here?” Hermione asked, hoping to change the topic.
Tonks snorted. “A bit chaotic, no thanks to you two,” she replied. “Between the faculty all puzzling over your sweat equations and the students starting a business based on sweat and spanking spells and corporeal patronuses…”
Harry snickered. “So you were right about presenting a strong incentive, eh?”
Remus shook his head. “And then some….talk about stories to tell.”
“Yeah,” Tonks chimed in with an evil-looking grin, “Especially the part where Remus got his sweat scraped by a virgin witch.”
“You, Remus?” Hermione asked with surprise. “Thought there'd be some pretty strong rules about students and staff doing that sort of thing.”
“There are,” Tonks replied with a wink. “I said `virgin witch,' not `virgin student witch'.”
“That's enough, Nymphadora,” Remus said with a scowl.
“So who was it, Remus?” Harry asked brightly.
“Never you mind.”
“Oh, come on, Remus,” Tonks chided, “it was all in the name of magical inquiry.” She turned to the two students and said not so sotto voce, “Let's just say that there was ample opportunity for his bum to be `pince'd'.”
Harry let out a belly laugh that forced him to stop and lean down on his favored leg. “Oh….that's funny, and…and that hurts a bit.”
“Serves you right,” Remus muttered. As they had reached the castle entrance Remus asked, “It's still a bit before lunch...at least in our time zone…any immediate plans you two?”
Harry nodded. “Imagine I should make my way to the infirmary…got an inch worth of medical notes for Poppy to pour over, and some doting to endure.”
“And I need to find Luna and Susan,” Hermione added. “Shall we split up and meet in the Great Hall in an hour?”
“Sounds good to me,” Tonks said. “I want to hear all about how he proposed to you along the way.” After Hermione gave Harry a good-bye kiss, Tonks excitedly grabbed her arm and pulled her down a ground-floor hallway.
Remus closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. “Harry, I do hope you didn't set the bar too high for the rest of us.”
“Tonks dropping hints, then?” Harry asked with a smile, as the two made their way towards the infirmary.
“Dragon-sized ones,” Moony replied, with a tight-lipped grin.
oo00OO00oo
Harry was glad to see that Ron was no longer an infirmary patient as he limped over to his usual bed and took a seat. Remus confirmed that the red-haired teen had been discharged, noting that neither he nor Luna had been seen much over the previous twenty-four hours.
When Remus called to Madame Pomfrey she bustled out from her office and scowled at the sight of her favorite and most frequent patient.
“Mr. Potter, what is it this time?” she asked. She didn't wait for an answer as she drew her wand out and began casting diagnostic spells.
“Snake-bite,” Harry replied simply.
“I see,” Poppy replied. “And just when did this happen?”
“Erm…real time, or body time?” Harry asked.
That brought a snap to the necks of both Remus and Poppy. “Both.” The nurse school nurse replied, not bothering to wonder how Harry's exploits made the question relevant.
“Well…both four days ago and four months ago.”
“Didn't you break all of the time turners a couple of years ago?” Remus asked.
Harry shrugged. “We broke all of the British ones.”
“At least that makes sense, given the readings you're showing,” Poppy stated. “Right then, let's see what they did with the wound.”
Harry nodded and began undoing his trousers. But then he stopped, after remembering just how little he was wearing underneath.
“Come now, Mr. Potter, don't tell me you've become shy all of a sudden, what with the sweat that will need collecting.”
“Erm…no Ma'am,” Harry replied rather reluctantly. He then pulled his trousers down to his ankles, revealing the briefest of red silk briefs (closer in cut to a thong than boxers).
Remus stifled a laugh, and promised himself to save the chiding for later. Poppy was more interested in the two fist-sized scars on his left thigh spread almost a foot apart. “What sort of snake could do this?” she asked.
“Erm…this one,” Harry said, as he lifted the hood of his jacket back over his head. For emphasis he pulled a six-inch long fang from his pocket and held it up to where it used to be attached.
When Madame Pomfrey gasped, Harry patted her shoulder for comfort. “Better that I'm wearing him than the other way around, eh?” He then handed her the medical records that the Indian healers had sent along, as well as a vial of the anti-venom potion that he had been given. With strict orders not to move from his bed until she returned, Poppy took the notes and potions back to her office for review.
Remus helped Harry pull his trousers up, asking, “So, Harry…your choice in clothing, or your fiancee's?”
“Hermione's, thank you very much,” Harry replied.
Remus waved towards Harry's thigh. “So with all this…did you two have any time to, erm…do what you had planned to do while you were away?”
Harry smiled. “A bit,” he said. “Not as much as I'd have liked to, but….”
“Enough said,” Remus replied.
Harry nodded, then couldn't resist asking, “So, Madame Pince, eh?”
Remus shook his head a bit and closed his eyes at the memory. “In the name of magical inquiry, they said…if you ask me Tonks just wanted an excuse to have me learn that blasted spanking spell.”
“Thought you two were well beyond the virgin part.”
“We are,” Remus replied. “But our arithmancers claimed that they needed to calibrate the full range of potentialities.”
“What kind of range are you talking about?”
“Well, from no experience, to something more than that,” Remus said. “They had calculated what the sweat potency would be for non-virgin wizard sweat collected by a virgin, and wanted confirmation.”
Harry smiled. “And so…you played some spanky-spank with Tonks while our esteemed librarian scraped your bum?”
Remus sighed. “My bum, my thighs, my back….she was very efficient.”
“Efficient, eh? Sounds like she'd practiced that sort of thing before.”
It was Remus's turn to laugh. “You don't know just how spot on you are.”
“Spot on what?”
“That Madame Pince had done that sort of thing before.”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you on about?”
“Madame Pince is a retired virgin,” Remus explained.
“Retired virgin?” Harry asked. “You mean it was her job, or something?”
“Exactly,” Remus replied. “Turns out that she was part of the Sisterhood of the Circle…a group of virgin witches that hire themselves out whenever somebody needs a certain kind of ritual.”
“And a witch could make a living doing this?”
“Apparently.”
Harry shook his head. “You think I'd seen it all after six years in the wizarding world, but…”
“Yeah, know what you mean,” said Remus with a chuckle.
Harry then asked, “So how did it go with the student virgins? Did they get the sweat up to where we needed it?”
Remus shook his head. “Neville and Susan got some potent enough to trade for a full infirmary medicine cabinet, but not high enough to make the hag happy.”
Harry smiled, recalling the bit of matchmaking he had engineered before his trip. “And what's this about students starting a business selling sweat?”
“You'll have to ask them,” Remus replied. “They've formed some sort of co-op, but they're pretty tight-lipped about what goes on to get the sweat that they're collecting.”
“Probably a wise move,” Harry said. “So Hermione and I are still on the hook, then, eh?”
Remus nodded. “I'm afraid so.”
Harry paused, then concluded, “Well, not like it's the end of the world, or anything.”
“No, I can't say that it is,” Remus said with a smile.
oo00OO00oo
When Harry entered the Great Hall to meet with his friends for lunch, he wasn't that surprised to discover that Hermione and they were sitting at the Slytherin table. Or more precisely, where a large chunk of the Slytherin table would have been had more than a dozen bothered to return to Hogwarts that Fall. The long table and been broken into three, with the middle section removed to create a buffer area between the Slytherin House table proper and a “common” table open to members of any house.
It hadn't take long for the DA to claim it as its own; while the proximity to the remaining snakes was provocative, the chance to mark the enemy's “turf” was too tempting. Of course, given the fact that almost every non-Slytherion above third years was now in the DA made it impractical for the entire membership to eat there regularly, but at least a few of the original “Old School” members could always be found sharing a meal and some gossip. Given Harry and Hermione's return, the table was packed with those waiting to hear firsthand about Harry's limp and Hermione's nose piercing. They somehow managed to keep the engagement (and ring) secret.
In turn, Harry and Hermione pressed their friends for details about the Co-Ed Naked Dueling Club (TM). Neville begged off saying too much, other than there was going to be a meeting that afternoon and a small initiation ceremony for new members. Ron had apparently been initiated the day previous, and when Harry asked him whether you had to be naked for the ceremony, Ron's smiled and replied, “You might not be naked, but the troll will be.”
That brought a laugh from those that could recall those anxious moments just before their First Year sorting ceremony, and Harry chose not to push the issue. He was, however, able to learn more about DA activities over the past week. A few more male students had managed to produce a corporeal patronus, including a rather precocious third-year Ravenclaw had conjured a stallion that had made him an instant legend (and improbable heartthrob) within the castle. But as he was all of thirteen, the Headmistress had not allowed him to become involved with any sweat-gathering activities. Ernie MacMillian and Justin Finch-Fletchley had both gotten their silvery mist to resolve, but subsequently declined to take the halo test. Lavender and Parvati were all too willing to note that the two Hufflepuffs had girlfriends that also weren't in the program, leading to some idle chatter about “hufflestuds” (from the boys) and protected honor (from the girls).
That left Seamus Finnegan as the only other male student to join Neville, Ron and (soon to be initiated) Harry in the Club. Mr. Finnegan had actually thought himself ineligible for the program, only to be surprised to find that his one-night stand with Lavender Brown's pleasure strip didn't count. It had been rather easy for him to forgive Lavender's subterfuge when he parlayed his new-found virginity into a corporeal rabbit and a ticket into the Club.
Neville then told Harry and Hermione there were another half-dozen males who were close, and that Terry Boot (who had chosen to eat with his Ravenclaw housemates) would probably “go corporeal” that afternoon.
Harry let out a rather dismissive “hurrumph,” while Hermione cocked her head inquisitively.
“Has Terry been pre-qualified with the halo test?” she asked.
When Neville nodded, Hermione said, “Well that's a bit of a surprise.”
Susan Bones jumped into the conversation. “As big-headed a git as he is?” she asked. “Terry talks a good game, but it doesn't surprise me one bit that he hasn't gotten any.”
Harry smiled. “Why Susan, I fear your warm and fuzzy Puffiness has been corrupted by your Gryffindor tablemates.”
Susan reached across the table to grab Harry's forearm. “Why Harry, I'll take that as a complement,” she cooed.
Hermione placed her arm around Harry's shoulders and started playing with his messy black hair in a none-too-subtle attempt to mark her territory. “So,” she asked, “what's this afternoon's schedule?”
Neville replied, “I've got the Room booked from 1pm to 3pm for the DA, then from 3pm to 5pm for the Club. The Headmistress then has it reserved for you and Hermione the balance of the evening, if you want it.”
Harry and Hermione traded quiet glances (as they had planned on holding a “dress rehearsal” with Luna and Susan). Hermione finally nodded, and told Neville, “That sounds like it might work, unless you plan on wearing Harry out before dinner.”
“Oh, Neville won't wear Harry out,” Susan replied. She smiled and for the second time reached across the table touched Harry's arm. “But we witches might.”
Hermione glowered with just enough dramatic flair to betray her true reaction and said, “Don't make me learn that spanking spell any sooner than I need to.”
Susan stuck out her tongue and said, “Promises, promises.”
After lunch, Harry and Hermione once again went separate ways; she went looking for her arithmancy professor to talk shop, while he honored his promise to Madame Pomfrey to return for more testing. Harry's leg was acting up again, though, so he decided that he needed to take a fifteen-minute rest along the way.
The way station just happened to be the library.
oo00OO00oo
Harry was able to escape from the infirmary and make his way up at the Room of Requirement a few minutes before the end of the DA meeting. A quick glance around the area (which was set in the “standard” DA training configuration) showed that Hermione wasn't there yet. Those students that were in the room were dressed in Muggle training and work-out clothing (including a few witches that had followed Hermione's lead and started to wear form-fitting spandex shorts and unitards), and gathered around Terry Boot as he displayed his corporeal patronus (it was, to nobody's surprise, a rather vain-looking owl). The Ravenclaw's success earned him a hearty cheer from the other wizards, and somewhat more restrained applause from the witches (particularly those that Harry guessed were in the Club).
Neville ended the session with the announcement that the next meeting would start up in five minutes. Everyone grabbed their gear and headed towards the exit, where tables filled with fresh fruits and iced beverages now stood to each side. Those students not involved with the next meeting grabbed something to eat or drink on the way out, leaving the others behind to cool down and chat in small groups.
Harry made his way over to Terry to offer his congratulations, and to tell him that he was glad that he wouldn't be the only wizard being initiated that afternoon. Terry gave him a disinterested half-nod, then made his way over to Seamus Finnegan for some hints on what would happen next. Luna Lovegood then walked over to Harry with bottles of ice water in each hand and a third partially stuffed down the front of her spandex shorts.
“You should drink something, Harry,” she said, as she handed him a bottle. “Need to keep your fluids replenished, you know?”
“Erm, thanks, Luna,” Harry replied. He found it hard to keep his eyes away from the third container. Thoughts that it was just a temporary storage space were dispelled once the blonde Ravenclaw made no effort to remove it with her free hand.
“Such a wonderful Muggle invention, these plastic water bottles,” she said, as she twisted off the cap of her drink and took a sip. “Quenches your thirst and provides localized heat relief.”
“Why not use a cooling charm?” Harry asked.
Luna shrugged as she grabbed the exposed neck of the bottle trapped in her tights and began to roll it from one side of her crotch to the other.
“This feels much nicer than a cooling charm,” she explained. “And it's just the right size to cool my insides as well. Would you like to see?”
Harry sprayed the water he'd been trying to drink and coughed a couple of times.
“Erm, maybe later,” he stammered, looking furtively about the room for Hermione (who still wasn't there) and Ron (whom he spotted with his back turned to them, talking casually to the Patil twins).
Luna smiled, and said, “Okay, Harry,” as if his evasiveness was in fact an affirmative response to make note of in her planner. She pulled the bottle out from her shorts and pressed it against her cheeks and forehead as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Harry shook her head in amazement. Had any of the other witches in the room pulled that stunt it would have been an obvious come-on (obvious even to a clueless git like himself). But with Luna, one never knew.
The blonde witch then excused herself, telling Harry that she needed to get the Room ready for his initiation. Walls sprang up behind her as she walked towards the opposite side of the room, enclosing the other students in what looked to be a small reception area. That only he and Terry seemed to pay much attention to this change told Harry that it wasn't the first time this had happened. Neville later confirmed this suspicion, saying that Luna had been in charge of the Club's floorplan from the very start.
The new space was about fifteen feet square, with plush carpeting and wood-paneled walls. A set of green French doors sat opposite to the Room's exit, and a large mahogany table sat in front of the French doors. Wooden pegs to each side of the French door held exactly one-dozen white robes, which the other students were donning over their work-out clothes. He heard Terry ask if they should don the robes as well, but was told that he needed to wait until he signed the membership agreement.
With the new focus on what was to come, Harry took stock of the club’s membership. He already knew the involved wizards…Neville, Ron, Seamus and, now, Terry. On the girl's side there was the Patil twins, Lavender, Susan, Su Li and Lisa Turpin. When Luna came out from the French doors to grab her own robe there were only three left…one for Terry, himself, and…
“Just where is Hermione anyway?” Ron asked Harry. As if on cue, she rushed into the room from the outside corridor.
“Sorry I'm late,” she said. “Professor Vector and I kind of got lost in some equations, and…”
“No worries,” Neville replied, as he, Susan and Luna took positions behind the wooden desk. He then gestured for the three initiates to stand in front of the table as the others formed a semi-circle behind them.
“Before you three go though our little welcome ceremony, we need you to take a look at the Club rules, as well as the business agreements and disclosures.
Luna laid four different pieces of parchment out onto the table for inspection.
“My, you've been very busy,” Hermione said with admiration.
Neville nodded. “Headmistress McGonagall said that this research project was a special service for the school, and that it justified releasing us from class and homework this past week.”
“It also counts as extra credit for our potions, arithmancy and wizard finance classes,” added Padma Patil.
When Hermione took a closer look at the first scroll, Susan explained that it was a membership role similar to the one used to establish the original DA.
“So it's a magically-binding document?” asked Terry.
“Yes,” Neville replied. “While the existence of the Co-Ed Naked Dueling Club isn't a secret, what goes on behind the green doors most certainly is. You'll be bound not to disclose any of the club's activities, or talk about anything or anyone you see behind the doors to anyone not already in the Club. Even if you decide at some point to leave.”
“With a handful of exceptions, of course,” Luna added. “The Headmistress, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Vector and Madame Pince aren't officially in the club, but they know more or less what's going on.”
“Why those three?” asked Terry.
“Erm, well the Headmistress because…she's the Headmistress and in charge of ensuring the safety of her students. Madame Pomfrey supervises the…well, I guess you call it `product' packaging and distribution, Professor Vector is helping with the arithmanic calibrations and Madame Pince is our club advisor.”
Harry laughed to himself when Terry asked about Madame Pince's involvement. Terry got a far less complete answer than what Moony had provided.
Hermione, who had begun reviewing some of the contract language, looked up and asked, “What about this new business?”
“Yes, it's called Co-Ed Naked Dueling Club (TM) Enterprises, Ltd,” said Neville.
“Otherwise known as CNDC,” added Luna.
“Otherwise known as Cee-N-Dick,” quipped Susan, causing the other witches in the room to break out into laughs.
“Erm, yes, well…” said Neville, trying to move on, “You'll find out more about the business after you sign. For now, I can tell you that the erm…potion ingredients produced during Club activities are quite valuable. Initially we've been bartering this stuff to replenish the infirmary's medicine chest, but we'll soon be in a position to sell our produce, as it were, on the open market. Profits earned by the co-op will be evenly divided by its members based on membership enrollment periods and individual contributions.”
Business talk soon turned into a discussion of the Club rules, as codified in the binding agreement. The new initiates had to assert that they were of legal age, and that they would be engaging in Club activities on a voluntary and consensual basis.
“Does this consensual clause mean that we agree to do what anyone else in the Club wants us to do?” asked Hermione with a frown.
“No, it doesn't,” Susan replied. “Whether you're on this side of the green doors or beyond, `No means no.'”
“That said,” added Neville, “the name of the organization sort of speaks for itself. You will be dueling, you will, at times, be naked, and you will be naked in the same room as members of the opposite sex. Also, if you're a wizard you can expect to have sweat collected from just about every available square inch of skin, while if you're a witch…”
“You'll be collecting that sweat?” asked Hermione.
Susan gave Hermione a saucy grin. “That, or helping boost its, erm…potency.”
“Which brings us to the part about the wild almost-sex, Neville,” quipped Lavender from the side, drawing a laugh.
“Hush, Lav,” Neville chided. He then turned to the three new initiates and reassured them that nobody would be forced or pressured into doing anything, or with any specific someone.
Harry nodded, with no small amount of relief over the idea that he (or, more importantly, Hermione) wouldn't be forced to fool around with the other members. The predatory looks that Susan had been broadcasting in his direction were beginning to get unnerving.
Padma Patil step forward and said, “Look, we've put this whole thing together on the fly in less than a week, and have actually only met for four sessions. A lot of this we're still making up and revising as we go along, but the bottom line involves trust. We need to trust each other, or this will never work.”
“Although the binding contract would have something to say about anyone violating trust,” Luna said matter-of-factly.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. “You borrowed some of my ideas on the DA agreement?”
Luna nodded. “There's a different penalty for breach of contract, but basically, yes.”
Terry didn't like the sound of that. “Something worse than what Marietta got hit with?”
Luna shrugged her shoulders. “Depends on your perspective. One the one hand, other students won't be able to see the curse like they could on her forehead.”
“What's the other hand?” asked Harry.
Susan smiled. “The reason other students won't see the curse is because it will affect a body part that usually isn't visible.”
“Unless you're taking a pee,” noted Luna.
There was much wincing and leg clamping in response.
After a few more questions and comments, Harry, Hermione and Terry signed the documents and were given their ceremonial club robe to wear over their Muggle clothing (training suit for Terry, leather jacket and trousers for Harry and Hermione).
oo00OO00oo
Beyond the green door, Luna had created a large room similar to their DA training area, except that there was only a single dueling platform that was bordered by comfortable leather chairs, love seats and couches. Beyond the furniture was a wall with six more green doors. The three initiates were instructed to stand next to each other on the platform while the others took seats in front of them.
“So now it's time for your initiation ceremony,” Neville said with a smile. “Although it's not really an initiation ritual, so much as an introduction to the way this club works.”
As he paused for affect Harry noted that Neville's public speaking skills had been taken to another level, even more than what he'd developed for the DA.
“This is, as the name implies, a dueling club. We have duels with each other. It is also co-ed in that the duels typically involve a witch paired against a wizard.”
“And for the naked part?” asked Terry.
“Ah yes… since this club is an extension of the DA, we've built training opportunities and incentives into each match.”
He then yielded the floor to Susan, who explained the rules of engagement.
“It's really very simple…it's a duel, but the only spell you can use is the paint ball jinx.”
“Paint ball jinx?” asked Terry (who had been raised in the wizarding world and unaware of the term).
Susan stood and called out “Tinctura!” as she stabbed her wand towards the male Ravenclaw. A galleon-sized greenish-grey blob spat out from her wand's tip and hit him square in the chest. A moment later she scourgified the splatter marks.
“Think you can handle that jinx?” she asked.
Terry snorted as he drew his wand and threw the same spell back towards her. But she dodged to the side before the paint could tag her and the blob struck the back of her chair.
“And that's how it's played,” she replied with a smile. “One offensive spell, no defensive shields, and a clear indication if you are hit or not.”
“But what's the practical use of that kind of duel?” asked Terry.
Harry snorted, and wondered how Terry got sorted into Ravenclaw. “Pretend that it's an AK….it's duck, dodge, or die.”
Susan smiled as she nodded her head. “Except the penalty for getting hit with paint is a little less lethal.”
“But a little more embarrassing,” added Neville.
“What…you have to strip naked if you lose?” asked Hermione.
“Eventually,” Susan replied with a grin.
“It's like strip poker,” blurted out Ron.
Susan nodded. “Each match contains eleven individual rounds. Each person starts with five pieces of clothing and loses a piece each time they lose a round. A round ends when a duelist is hit. The match stops, some clothing is lost, then you bow and start all over again.
Harry did the math. “Eleven rounds but only ten pieces of clothing combined?”
Susan's eyes lit up. “Oh, yes…I guess there is more than one spell involved.”
“The spanking spell?” asked Hermione.
“Exactly,” replied Neville.
“What happens if a person loses the first five rounds straight?” asked Terry.
Luna replied, “Each match has eleven rounds, and each loss after five earns you a spanking.”
Harry let out a low whistle. “So you've been doing this for a few days, then?”
Neville nodded.
“What's been the most lopsided score?”
Luna smiled. “Ronald beat me 9-2 yesterday. It was a very enjoyable experience.”
“Yeah, but you went easy on him because he's your boyfriend,” snarked Lavender.
Hermione asked, “Do you get to pick your opponent, then?”
All of the older members nodded. “For the first time, yes,” said Luna.
“Except that a person can't duel more than once per day,” added Neville.
“So everybody duels each day, then?”
When the answer was yes, Harry asked a logical follow-up. “So what happens when there's an imbalance in the number of witches and wizards?
Neville gave Harry a slightly embarrassed look. “With you three we'll be even-up, but up to now, once all of the wizards have been paired up the remaining members duel witch-on-witch.”
Harry let the phrase “witch-on-witch” bounce about his brain for bit before saying, “So, Neville, before Ron and Seamus it was just you and the girls?”
His fellow Gryffindor shrugged his shoulders and gave Harry a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Why Neville, you dog!”
Hermione snorted and then said, “So everyone gets to watch the duel?”
Susan nodded. “After you've been initiated, yes.”
“We figured that we're all eventually going to see each other naked during the sweat collection process, and that the crowd can provide some extra incentive to do your best,” explained Neville.
“That makes sense,” said Harry.
“So what about the sweat collection?” asked Terry, who had only recently been told about the Club's origins and purpose.
“More on that later,” Susan replied with a smile. “If you happen to break into a sweat during your duel we'll collect it and score it, but the testing program and collection events are really separate from the dueling.”
“Enough talking,” exclaimed Lavender. “Let the games begin!”
Her request met the crowd's approval.
“Right, then,” said Neville. He turned to the three initiates and said, “You'll draw to see dueling order. First drawn gets to pick their opponent, then second, and third.”
Susan added, “After that, you can use one of the smaller rooms behind us and add or subtract bits of clothing until you get to five. Shoes and socks count as one, by the way. Someone will come get you when it's your turn. Any questions?”
Seeing none, Neville pulled a bag out of his pocket and held it in front of Hermione. She gave Harry a “here it goes” look and pulled out a ball labeled “2.” Neville next turned to Terry, who let out a “Whoop!” when he drew the “1” ball, leaving the last ball for Harry.
“Just like the First Task,” he said with a grim smile.
“Okay, so Terry first,” said Susan. “Before you pick, is there anyone in the room that wants to withdraw from consideration?”
When nobody raised a hand or said anything, she turned and told Terry that he had his pick of the witches.
Harry shook his head as Terry, being the smart-arse that he was, made a big production of sighing, and holding his chin in his hand as if it was the most important decision in the world. Harry had never really been in the gossip loop, and knew even less about who-liked-whom now that he was no longer an in-house student. At least Harry's decision was easy…thinking that turn-about was fair game, the only question in his mind was how badly and obviously he'd throw the match to Hermione.
Terry, he reasoned, would probably pick Lisa Turpin…not because Terry fancied her, or thought her the prettiest of the bunch, but simply because she was (in Harry's opinion) the weakest duelist, and (therefore) the one most likely to lose her knickers to him. But apparently, Mr. Boot had something else in mind.
Terry smiled broadly, then loudly declared, “I choose to duel…Hermione Granger.”
The announcement raised eyebrows, blood pressures and wands, as a dozen different witches and wizards cried out some version of, “What the hell was that?”
The Ravenclaw quickly found himself standing alone, as Harry and Hermione reflexively backed off a few feet in case they decided their wand arms needed room to swing freely.
Terry seventh-year shrugged his shoulders. “I pick Hermione,” he matter-of-factly restated.
Harry stood in front of Hermione and glowered at the young wizard. Susan Bones, speaking the thoughts of many within the room, then said, “Merlin, Terry, for somebody so smart you sure are an idiot.”
“What’s the big deal?” Terry asked defensively. “You just said I had my pick of any witch in the room, and Hermione is a witch.”
“She’s also is Harry’s girlfriend, you dolt,” Lavender replied (not having yet sussed out the engagement).
Terry stepped back a bit, amazed at the negative reaction he was getting. “I thought that this was some sort of co-operative, with people working together?”
“It is,” Neville replied dryly, “unless somebody is digging their own grave.”
Susan then announced. “Will everybody lower their wands and voices for a moment?” Getting a favorable response, she then turned to Hermione. “You don’t have to do this, you know…this is one of those consensual decisions.”
Hermione nodded as she stepped to Harry’s side and focused her glare at her challenger.
“Give me one good reason why I should say yes.”
Terry smiled weakly. “It’s nothing personal, Hermione,” he explained. “You are the logical choice.”
“How do you figure that, Boot?” Harry asked through gritted teeth. “Hermione’s not the weakest duelist in this room and you know it.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Terry replied. “But this isn’t a normal duel…only one offensive spell and no shields. Seems to me that experience dodging paint balls will be more much important that raw skill, and Hermione is the only witch that wouldn’t have that experience advantage over me.”
Su Li suddenly stood up and walked right up in front of Terry. “You just want to see Hermione starkers, is it?”
“Not at all,” Terry replied. “Well, yes, a bit, I guess,” he added, “but I’d be seeing her bits even if I chose somebody else.”
“Again, how do you figure that?” Hermione demanded.
“Erm, no offense, Hermione,” Terry said. “But since I go first, I would get to stay and watch your duel after mine. And if you picked Harry, then….”
“Then you imagine I’ll lose, is it?”
Terry shrugged his shoulders as he turned to face Su Li. “It’s logical, can’t you see that?”
“Logic?” Sue Li loudly asked. “Is that all you go on, then?”
“Well, I am a Ravenclaw,” Terry explained, as he reached out for the witch’s hand. “Besides, Su,” he added, “it’s a little early in the relationship for the two of us to be spanking each other, don’t you think?”
Su Li slapped Terry’s hand away and folded her arms in front of her. “No, Terry,” she replied, “it’s too late for you think about the two of us doing anything.” She then turned, grabbed her bag of gear, and ran out of the room in tears.
“What’d I say?” Terry asked in confusion.
Speaking on behalf of the remaining pissed-off witches, Susan Bones shook her head, and said, “Sue Li didn’t deserve that, you arse.”
Hermione then walked up and icily told Terry, “And the only thing you deserve, you wanker, is the thrashing that I’m going to apply on your arse.”
Terry cocked his head. “So you accept the challenge, then?”
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who gave her a short nod of acceptance. She smiled in response, then turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw wizard and said, “Game on, arsehole.”
This response broke the “somebody is going to die” tension within the room and a cheer went up in support of Hermione’s decision. Once the noise died down, Susan turned towards Harry, smiled and said, “Well, since Hermione has accepted Terry’s challenge, it’s your turn to pick a witch.”
The sidebar conversations that had been taking place stopped immediately as everyone focused in on Harry, and the fact that he would need to duel somebody other than Hermione.
Harry sucked in a breath as he tried to gather his wits about him. He had been so proud of Hermione for standing up to Terry that he had completely forgotten the dilemma that her decision would create for him. He caught Hermione’s eyes and she gave him an “it’s your decision” gesture.
“Great,” he thought to himself. “Just enough rope to hang myself.”
Harry then looked around the room and said, “Susan asked if there was somebody that didn’t want to duel, but maybe I should turn that question around….is there anyone that wants to duel me?”
The initial response to this question was nonverbal, as every witch in the room looked not at Harry, but at Hermione.
“Oh, don’t be shy,” she said with a bit of exasperation. “I more or less picked Terry rather than Harry, so I’m not going to hex anyone who raises their hand.”
With that reassurance, the remaining five witches in the room all raised their hands and looked at Harry with hope and expectation, figuring that Harry’s bad leg presented a unique opportunity to best him in a duel.
Ron asked Luna, “What are you doing with your arm up?”
He was serenely ignored.
“Well, that helps narrow down the decision, doesn’t it?” Harry said ruefully.
Once the nervous laughter died down, Harry tried to do some mental damage control. Hermione knew, more or less, his opinions on each of the witches, having gone down the list to find an “alternate virgin” way back on Day One. Susan’s eagerness and Luna’s relationship with Ron ruled them out. He still hadn’t said three words to Lisa Turpin, and while that might reassure Hermione, he didn’t like the idea of spanking or being spanked by a near-stranger. Which left the Patil twins and Lavender. He thought he had picked up on Neville’s interest in Padma before the trip, and Lavender and Parvati had been a bit too eager to see his stapler.
Realizing that he had just ruled out every possible option, Harry made what he thought was the only rational choice.
“Erm, thanks, everyone, but Hermione’s the only witch for me, so I’ll have to take a pass.”
Harry’s decision was almost as popular as Terry’s. There were cries of dismay and disappointment from the witches, while the wizards looked at Harry with disbelief. The only reaction that Harry was interested in, however, was the one on his fiancé’s face.
Which was not something he had much time to examine, because that face was quickly buried in his neck as Hermione threw herself into his arms.
“Oh, Harry,” she murmured. “I love you.”
Harry patted her back, and said, “I love you too, Hermione.”
Hermione sniffed back some happy tears and pulled away from Harry just enough to catch his eyes.
“Okay, you said the right thing,” she told him. “Now make your choice.”
“What?”
“You have to do this, Harry,” Hermione explained. “You more than anyone have to be in the program.”
“Why is that?” asked Harry.
She explained with a smile. “First, this was your idea, and second, you are the only wizard we can use for our “before and after” comparisons.”
“Before and after what?” Harry asked.
Hermione smiled as she grabbed her fiancé’s bum with both hands and pulled him into another embrace. She then stood up on her tiptoes, so that she could whisper into his ears.
“Before and after shagging my brains out, Loverboy,” she cooed, as she ground her crotch into Harry’s nagahide-covered thigh.
“Really want me to do this, then?” he asked.
“Yes, really.”
Harry’s eyes lit up, and he buried a few kisses into Hermione’s hair. Then, he broke the embrace half-way, so that one arm was around each other as they faced the others in the room.
“Well, then,” he announced, “since Hermione insists that I go through with this, I’m going to choose….to ask her to choose for me.”
“Awww,” said the crowd of witches (both in disappointment, and admiration for his display of diplomatic boyfriend skills).
Hermione gave Harry a cock-eyed look of assessment, before smiling and nodding her head. She then looked over her options, and after a few seconds decided.
“Harry chooses Susan.”
“Yesss!” the pig-tailed Hufflepuff cried out, as she pumped her fist into the air and bounced up and down in excitement.
Harry gave Hermione a quizzical look. “Susan? Really?”
Hermione smiled and shook her head. “I’ll explain later,” she told him sweetly.
“Okay, then,” Neville announced, “we have our matches.” He then pointed towards the back of the room. “If you four head back and get your outfits sorted out, we’ll probably call the first pair out in fifteen minutes or so.”
Terry cocked his head and said, “Can’t imagine it’ll take us that long to count out five pieces of clothing.”
Neville smiled. “No, I don’t imagine it will either.”
“So what’s the extra time for?” Terry asked.
Ron gave the Ravenclaw an evil-looking smile. “That will be for sorting out all of the betting on just how badly Hermione is going to spank your arse.”
oo00OO00oo
The derisive laughter was still echoing in Terry’s ears as the four combatants left the platform. When he noticed that Hermione was holding Harry’s hand and leading him into a room he demanded, “Hey, where are you two going?”
“Into a changing room, like they told us,” Hermione replied.
“You can’t go into the same room,” the Ravenclaw whined. “That’d be cheating.”
“What?” Harry asked. “How could sharing a changing room be considered cheating?”
“Well, you two could discuss strategy, or something,” Terry replied.
Hermione shook her head in disgust. “Of all the stupid things…plan on asking for rules clarifications the next time a Death Eater pulls a wand on you?”
Harry chuckled. “Doesn’t matter, Hermione…let’s just take these two next to each other.” He then turned towards Terry and asked, “Fine with you?”
Terry didn’t respond, so Harry gave Hermione a kiss, wished her luck, then entered his own private changing room. He waited all of fifteen seconds before he locked the door and pulled a small black ball out of his coat pocket. When he softly tossed it eye-level against the wall that separated his room from Hermione’s, it burst out into a portable hole big enough for him to stick his head through.
He caught Hermione with her back turned to him, already stripped down to her black thong.
“Mind if piss off Terry and watch you dress?” he asked.
Hermione smiled as she turned to face Harry.
“If you wanted to make a glory hole you should have aimed a little lower,” she replied.
Harry chuckled. “I imagine I might need to conserve some fluids for tonight.”
Hermione giggled. “Swapping spit would be no net loss,” she noted. She then walked over to the wall and pulled her boyfriend’s head down for a passionate snog.
When they broke the kiss to breathe, Harry asked, “So is it ‘later’ yet?”
Hermione snorted. “I guess so,” she replied. “I picked Susan because she’s the one most likely to enjoy a good spanking.”
Harry nodded. “And you aren’t going to be upset that I’ll be the one giving it to her?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have picked her,” Hermione replied. “Relax, Harry,” she said. “I don’t have any doubts about your feelings for me.”
“So what if I do well enough to spank her a few times, and she gets all orgasmic and shakes her bum in front of me, and erm…”
“Harry,” Hermione reassured him. “I trust you completely. But Mr. Phoenix…well he does have a mind of his own, right?”
“I’m not going to use that as an excuse.”
“But you are still a teen-aged boy with all the right kind of hormones,” Hermione replied. “It’s one of those reptilian brain things you really can’t control.”
“So it’s okay, then?”
Hermione shook her head. “Harry, it’s a natural reaction. Just don’t touch her with anything other than a spell and it’s fine.”
“Well, then, guess it’s okay if you get wet knickers at the sight of Terry’s willie.”
Hermione laughed and gave Harry another kiss. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she said.
“Why?” Harry asked. “You don’t think you’ll win enough rounds to see it?”
“No,” Hermione replied, “because I’ve already seen it.”
“What?” Harry asked reflexively, before his brain engaged. “Oh, yeah,” he then said. “NEWT-level Runes.”
Hermione nodded. “You’ll see that it’s no big deal.”
“How?” Harry asked. “Sounds like I won’t be able to watch you duel.”
Hermione smiled brightly. “Pensieved memory, silly-boy,” she replied. She then took a couple of steps back into the room and asked, “Any suggestions on how I can put Mr. Boot in his place?”
Harry smiled as he watched Hermione reach up and run her fingers through her hair.
“I figured you already had something in mind when you accepted the challenge.”
“I did,” Hermione replied, as she casually reached behind her and adjusted the back of her thong. “But I thought I’d see if you had a brighter idea.”
“As if I could have any rational thoughts with you standing there like that,” he said
Hermione smiled as she cupped a naked breast in each hand. “Would it help if I turned around,” she asked coyly, as she gave him a different view.
“You know better than that,” Harry replied with a grin. He then closed his eyes for a few seconds, and said, “Doesn’t sound like it’s that much different from some of the training we’ve been doing.”
“Yes, but Terry’s been using the same regimen as well,” Hermione replied as she turned back. “I want to have an edge that will guarantee me the chance to spank the smart-arse raw.”
“The smart-arse raw, or his smart-arse raw?”
“Both.”
Harry opened his eyes and grinned, “Well, distraction is always an option.”
Hermione returned the smile as she turned and reached down for her wand, making sure to wiggle suggestively. “Think he’d like my bum, then?”
“It’d be a great distraction,” Harry replied with a smile, “but not exactly the best dueling form on your part.”
Hermione turned back around with wand in one hand and some of her clothing in the other. “Well I’ll have to be a little more creative, then, won’t I?”
Harry watched with wonder and awe as Hermione transfigured some of her clothing. While doing this wand work, she asked, “So what are your plans for dear Susan?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’m thinking that with my leg she’s going to have to throw a few matches if she wants to get spanked.”
Hermione nodded. “That is an issue,” she replied. “Last thing we need is you hurting your leg any more before we collect your shag sweat.”
“Figured you’d be more worried about my third leg,” Harry quipped.
“I am, but you aren’t planning on using Mr. Phoenix to dodge Susan’s spells, are you?”
“Good point,” Harry replied. “You know, I could just throw all of the matches. It’d save my leg for sure,”
“But not your pride, or your bum,” Hermione noted. “No, you’ve got to make at least some effort,” she concluded. “Wouldn’t be sporting otherwise.”
“Halfway, then?” Harry asked.
Hermione looked up from her work and asked, “Still wearing your red knickers?”
Harry smiled as he pulled his head out of the hole. The hole disappeared, only to reappear a few seconds later two feet down the wall, providing a view of Harry unfastening his fly and dropping his trousers down to his ankles.
“What were you saying about glory holes, honey?” he asked.
Hermione walked over to the wall, reached down, and dragged her fingernails up Harry’s bare thigh. Once she reached the crimson tent she shook the pole a bit and asked, “What did you say about conserving fluids, dear?”
Harry pulled back so that he could squat down and look at Hermione through the hole.
“I’ll take some of yours if you take some of mine.” he leered.
Hermione giggled. “Later, Harry.”
“Is that a promise?”
The barely-dress witch laughed as she reached down and held Harry’s cheek in her hand. “No, Harry…from the looks of the research protocols, I can say that it’s a certainty.”
A knock on her door interrupted their banter.
“One minute, Hermione.”
Hermione looked at the door, then turned back and gave Harry a kiss. After a quick final bit of wardrobe adjustment, she threw on her unaltered nagahide jacket and said, “So what do you think?”
Her boyfriend let out a low wolf whistle. “I think his tongue will get in the way of his wand movements.”
Hermione giggled yet again (having accepted the “giggler” side of her personality whilst on holiday), and said, “Oh Harry, you say the sweetest things….now scoot!”
Her fiancé reluctantly pulled the portable hole away from the wall, leaving Hermione only enough time to shake out her hair before Luna opened the door and escorted her onto the dueling platform. Susan was already there waiting her turn (and to watch the first match, as she wasn’t a newbie initiate).
Hermione’s focus along the way to the platform was set on a tote board that showed a variety of wagers put down on her initiation duel. The two-dimensional grid had rows numbered from zero to down to eleven and these rows were labeled “Hermione’s wins.”
She was pleased to note that nobody was betting she’d win fewer than six rounds.
The column headers described associated outcomes of the duel (similar to the Weasley Twins’s World Cup bet on “Ireland, but Krum catches the snitch). Some of these categories were as whimsical as they were reassuring. For example, Lavender had put a galleon down on the square marked “Eight wins, and Boot cries like a baby.” Ron was banking on “Nine wins, Boot tents his knickers,” and Neville’s hopes were riding on “Nine wins, and both of Boot’s wands discharge.”
While Hermione was inspecting the betting board, everyone else was busy inspecting her outfit. Her nagahide jacket was completely buttoned, and hid whatever was worn underneath. The matching snakeskin trousers, however, had lost most of their inseam, and been converted into a pair of tight leather shorts (cut high enough on the thigh to expose a hint of cheek). Covering the space formerly hidden by trouser legs were socks that had been transfigured into black silk hold-ups (or thigh-highs, as they were known in the States).
“Merlin,” said Ron. “You look dressed for sex.”
Hermione shook her head and smiled as she pulled her wand from her jacket sleeve, “No Ron, I’m dressed to hex.”
“Close your mouth, Ronald,” Luna told her beau, “or the nargles will come nesting.”
“Erm, yes, rear….I mean yes, dear,” Ron replied, as he shook his head to clear his muddled mind.
Meanwhile, almost no attention was paid to Terry Boot as Seamus escorted him to the platform. He was wearing boots and a battle robe that gave little indication on what lie underneath.
Not that anyone cared.
As Hermione stood to face Terry on the stage he said, “Looks like you’ve already lost a few rounds of clothing.”
She smiled sweetly in reply. “No, I just thought I’d give you something to look at, since this is all the skin I plan on you seeing.”
Neville snorted as he stepped up to provide the count. “Got the trash talking out of the way, then?”
When both duelists nodded, he ordered them to bow, then counted down from three.
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Terry shot out three paintballs in a row at waist height. All three sailed over Hermione’s head as she had immediately dropped to the floor and fired her shots from a prone position. Her three ball set was in a triangle pattern, one on each side of Terry, and the third aimed for his feet. Terry had jumped to his left after firing, and was caught in the chest with a splat of paint.
Hermione 1, Terry 0.
Terry scowled as he shed his paint-slicked robes.
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Terry aimed low, thinking Hermione would try to outsmart him and use the same move twice. Instead, she held her fire to see where he was aiming, then leapt over his shot and into a forward roll. She came out of the roll with wand arm out and fired point blank at Terry’s crotch.
“Ooof!”
Hermione 2, Terry 0.
Shaking his head, Boot Scourgified his shorts and kicked off his shoes and socks.
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Hermione turned to slim her profile and ducked. But Terry seemed willing to keep aiming low until he got it right and nicked the front of Hermione’s jacket with his paintball.
“Yes!” he cried triumphantly.
Hermione stood up, shook her head slightly and called out. “Good shot, Terry.”
Hermione 2, Terry 1.
Temporarily sticking her wand down her left stocking, Hermione unbuttoned her jacket and casually threw it over to Luna.
The response to what she wore underneath could be properly classified as “shock and awe.”
Foregoing a t-shirt, Hermione was presently displaying a pierced navel and a black leather bra. Which wouldn’t have been all that titillating, except that this bra was a lace-trimmed cupless creation that supported each of her uplifted and uncovered breasts with a leather shelf.
“Sweet Mother of Merlin!” shouted Ron, speaking on behalf of all of the wizards in the room.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked innocently.
“Wa…wa…wa…what happened to the rest of your brassiere?” Ron asked.
“What, you don’t like it?” she replied.
It was Terry’s turn to stammer. “Wa…wa..wa…why are your nip…nip…what are those silvery things?”
“You mean my nipple piercings, Terry?” she asked with a smile. She used her off-hand to grab the knut-sized platinum hoop that pierced her left nipple and matter-of-factly said, “Just some jewelry I picked up in India.”
She then turned towards Neville as she toyed with the ring. “I guess I was assuming that jewelry didn’t count as clothing…are they okay?”
Neville gave her a simple wide-eyed nod. “They’re bloody brilliant,” he exclaimed.
“Great then, shall we continue?” She then turned to face Terry and returned his slight bow with a deeper bow that, when combined with a shimmy, sent her lemon-sized breasts jiggling from one side to the other.
“3….erm….2…wha..wha..-1…do..do...do..da..da…”
“Neville!”
“Erm, yes Luna?”
“Would you like me to take over the count?”
“Erm, yes, Luna…that might be best.”
Luna replaced Neville on the center of the platform.
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Hermione’s shot hit a stationary Terry square in the chest. His brain was still wrapping itself around the idea of a nipple-pierced bookworm.
Hermione 3, Terry 1.
“Terry?”
“Terry?” asked Luna with a knowing smile, “You need to lose a piece of clothing.”
Terry shook his head, then shook his head once more as he slipped off the paint-stained t-shirt.
Hermione decided it was time to show that her nipple rings were wide enough for her to slip her wand tip into.
“Makes a nice holster, don’t you think, Terry?”
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Hermione 4, Terry 1.
Terry either forgot or ignored the paint splatter on his stomach as he stripped down to his boxers.
“Hey, Terry!”
“Erm…yes Hermione?”
“If you don’t pick up the pace, you’ll never see my other piercing!”
“What?”
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Hermione 5, Terry 1.
“Bollocks!” Terry stammered, as the crowd erupted into laughs and catcalls.
“Hey Terry,” teased Susan, “no worries, it’s nothing any of us haven’t already seen before.”
“What are you on about?” asked Ron.
Luna turned to her boyfriend and explained that all of the witches and Terry were in the same Ancient Runes class.
“So?”
“So…that means that we’ve all seen each other naked during rituals,” Terry said ruefully. “Although I don’t remember any of the details.”
With great reluctance and no small amount of embarrassment, he bared himself to his classmates.
He was rock hard.
As rocks go, it was on the gravel side of the size scale.
“Yes!” shouted Ron.
“Ron,” said Lavender, “Don’t you think it a bit odd that you’re happy to be see Terry’s boner?”
“Odd-schmod,” Ron replied. “If he keeps it up, I’m on pace to win forty-six galleons.”
“Me to,” Neville replied brightly. “He just needs a bit more stimulation…aim low, Hermione!”
“Hey, Terry, it sounds like some wizards like the looks of your wand.”
“Oh that’s rubbish, they’re just greedy bast…”
“3-2-1-Duel!”
Hermione 6, Terry 1.
It was hard to dodge spells with one hand covering your crotch.
“Damn it!” Terry cried out, looking down at his paint spattered thigh.
He then asked, “So do I get spanked now?”
“No,” Luna replied innocently. “It stings more sweetly when they’re bundled together at the end.”
And so it went. Hermione eventually ran out of naughty distractions, and Terry pulled himself together well enough to win the last duel, forcing Hermione to make the somewhat meaningless gesture of removing her shelf bra. Terry never did manage to tame his erection, and in the end, the final score was:
Hermione 9, Terry 2.
“I win!” Ron shouted, jumping up and down.
“Hold on to your knickers, we aren’t done yet.” Neville said.
“But I’ve got the square for nine wins and a woody!”
“Yes,” Neville replied, “But I’ve got nine wins and a money shot, and there’s still the spankings to go.”
“Hoping Boot’s a sick bastard that gets off on spanky-spank, then?” snorted Ron.
“What are you saying about people who enjoy a bit of spanking?” asked Luna.
Ron quickly backtracked. “Erm, sorry, Luna…it’s sexy for witches to like it…it’s the blokes that get off on that are the disturbed wankers.”
Lavender looked over towards Terry’s exposed crotch and pulled her wand out. “Wouldn’t be able to tell one way or the other with his dick painted off-white,” she snarked, just before she banished the pigment.
“Right, then,” said Luna. She walked up to Terry and asked, “Would you like to borrow my ball gag during the flogging?”
“Ball gag?” Terry asked with alarm. He quickly lost his erection.
“Keeps you from squealing like a pig, and heightens your sense of sexual submission.”
“Erm, thanks, but no thanks,” Terry replied weakly.
While Luna was giving Terry some additional unsolicited advice on timing Kegel contractions, Hermione asked for some help learning the spanking spell. There were plenty of volunteers to help stand close behind her and show her the proper wand movements. She selected Neville, who was a true (but nervous) gentleman that completed his instructions without unnecessary skin contact. The spell itself was straightforward, but involved an intent-based strength modifier that varied the severity of the slap.
“So how strong should I be making the spell?” Hermione asked.
“Strong enough to sting like hell, but not hard enough to break the skin,” Susan replied.
Hermione frowned. “Well how in Merlin’s name am I supposed to know how strong that is?” she asked. “It’s not like I’ve cast this before.”
“Oh, well, that’s no problem” volunteered Lavender Brown. “I can help you calibrate.”
Without thinking twice Lavender walked in front of Hermione and turned her back. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her work-out shorts, she smoothly pulled her knickers down to her ankles and bent over at the waist.
With her bare bum sticking up in the air, she told Hermione to start casting low-powered spells and work her way up.
Hermione shook her head in an “I can’t believe I’m doing this” gesture and complied with Lavender’s instructions. It took her six tries before she got the right strength level.
She wasn’t surprised to learn that her former roommate enjoyed getting spanked far more than she did.
With her lessons completed, Hermione turned and gave Terry an evil grin.
“Your turn, Mr. Logical…bend over.”
oo00OO00oo
The four spanks were administered swiftly, and without too much need for a healing spell. Ron and Neville were disappointed to learn that Terry didn’t get off on getting smacked. Nobody had their money on “Nine wins, but he takes it quietly without showing wood,” so the pot rolled over to the next round.
While Terry retrieved his clothing and tried to regain some of his dignity, a new tote board was constructed for Harry’s initiation. Susan was sent back to her changing room when the betting began. She wasn’t very happy about this, but understood why it was necessary.
Some serious side bets were being placed on the over/under interval for Susan to attain orgasm, and nobody wanted to tempt her into faking it at a fiscally opportune time.