Harry blinked. The light seemed to flicker around the edges of his vision like fireflies. Another blink, and the fireflies turned into one big blur. He squinted and thought he recognized something. Yes, he had definitely seen this before. It was—a ceiling. That was the word for it.
He groggily raised his head. For one panicked moment he thought he no longer had a body. He couldn't feel a thing. But his feet were visible, so he assumed it was still there. The room he was in looked familiar, but it was spinning. Everything was hazy, and he couldn't make out any details, except—was that a floating head? Maybe he didn't have a body after all.
His eyes could barely focus on it, but yes, in the corner of the room was a floating head. It had bright purple hair.
"Hello?" he murmured.
The purple head jerked up and stared at him in shock. "What the—how are you awake?"
Harry ignored what seemed like an idiotic question, fascinated instead by the fact that the head could talk. How did it exist without a body? Was it a ghost? Those were things that existed, he vaguely recalled.
"How are you talking?" he asked it.
"What?"
"Are you a ghost? Or am I dreaming right now?"
"I, er, yes, let's go with that. Don't move. Let me get Madam Pomfrey."
The head rose and floated through the air and he grew even more confused by its supernatural abilities. "You can fly? Why is your hair purple?" he mumbled.
"Because purple is cool," it replied.
"Purple doesn't talk," he responded with certainty, and he was baffled when the head laughed.
It disappeared around the corner, and a moment later Madam Pomfrey came into view.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Mr. Potter. How can you possibly be awake? Are you in any pain?"
"Er, no? There was a floating head."
"I'll make a note of it. Put your head down and go back to sleep. You're still healing."
He couldn't think of a response, but soon didn't need one. Pomfrey tapped his forehead with her wand and he knew no more.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
When Harry next awoke, there were no floating heads, nor was the room spinning. He opened his eyes and saw Madam Pomfrey hovering over him, waving her wand over his midsection.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter. I thought you might be joining us soon."
He frowned, trying to recall why he would be in the hospital wing. There was a vague memory of being unable to move. And of talking to someone who was purple, but that made no sense. Full consciousness slowly bloomed, and memories of the third task and its aftermath came roaring back.
"The Cup!" he said hoarsely. "Pettigrew—Voldemort! What's happening?"
"Just relax, dear. You're in the hospital wing. You were injured. Do you remember?"
"Yes, I was stabbed by a Death Eater. Where's the Headmaster? Where's Cedric? I—"
"I'll inform Dumbledore he's awake," said a female voice, and Harry was startled to realize there was another person present. A young woman with bright purple hair rose from a chair and exited the room. Had he talked to her before? The strangest sense of déjà vu washed over him.
"Who was that?"
"Your Auror guard. The wing has been under lockdown. The Headmaster will be here soon, and he'll be able to answer your questions better than I can."
Lockdown? What on earth was happening? He tried to calm himself. If the Headmaster was in the castle, hopefully things were under control.
He looked down and saw that his chest and abdomen were uncovered. Pomfrey was examining a patch of skin on his side that looked unnaturally white, as if it were brand new.
"Am I alright?"
"You'll be mostly healed by tomorrow, and thank Merlin for that. You had a deep stab wound when you were brought in, but it was clean. It lacerated the edge of your liver and caused some internal bleeding."
"My liver?"
"Indeed. I had to regrow a portion of it, but you are in much better shape than you were in February. I'll be able to release you tomorrow if you promise not to exert yourself. But," she added with a stern look, "you are in my care entirely too often, young man."
He sighed and lay back against the pillow. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, but it's not my fault. And I feel funny."
"You still have some pain-relieving potion in your system. It will wear off soon, but your ribs will be sore for the next few days."
"What about Cedric?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"Mr. Diggory is in St. Mungo's. His injures were rather more severe than yours. The snake that bit him was extremely venomous. I am told he is recuperating nicely, but it was a close call."
"So he's going to be okay?"
"He will," she said with a warm smile. "He may be able to return to Hogwarts soon, provided he heals properly."
"Thank God."
The arrival of the Headmaster saved Madam Pomfrey from further questioning. He strode into the room wearing lurid yellow robes and looking more tired than Harry had ever seen him.
"How is he, Poppy?"
"Quite well, considering. Try not to overexcite him, Albus. He shouldn't move around much for the next 24 hours."
"I shall do my best. Thank you."
The Headmaster conjured a chair and sat down next to his bed, then cast a privacy spell around them. "Harry, dear boy, you don't know how relieved I am to see you well."
"Thank you, sir. What's happening?"
"Let me start by offering an apology. I have failed you this year, even more so than you realize. I am sure you harbor some resentment toward me for the trials you have suffered, and I only ask that you give me the opportunity to redeem myself. If you can forgive an old man for his misjudgments, I will do my utmost to make things right."
Harry nodded slowly. "I appreciate that."
He had to fight the urge to yell at the man. He had provided so little aid in the tournament, instead providing false assurances of safety. But right now, getting answers was more important, and only the Headmaster had them. If his apology was sincere, and he did indeed try to make things right, he was willing to at least postpone his grievances. There were bigger fish to fry.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Thank you, Harry. Now, do you recall anything after your return from the graveyard?"
"Er, not much. There was a mad rush of people. I remember trying to explain things to you, and you asked to see my memory instead. After that…"
"After that, you lost consciousness, giving us all quite a scare."
"What's going on, sir? Madam Pomfrey said we were under lockdown?"
"Indeed. This will take a moment to explain. A lot has happened in the last 48 hours, but I must ask you to remain calm, as she said."
"48 hours?! I've been here for two days?"
"I'm afraid so. You would have been in significant pain had you not been sedated. And while you healed, there was a great deal of chaos, both here and at the Ministry. I have barely slept."
He didn't have much sympathy for him at the moment, but didn't say so aloud. "Where's Voldemort?"
"Straight to it then," the old man said with a sigh. "I don't know. I managed to locate the scene of the attack from your memory, but it took some effort to find it. By the time I arrived, there was nothing except the remnants of your battle. I found evidence that someone had been inhabiting a large manor house nearby. A house that once belonged to Tom Riddle, Sr."
Harry groaned. Voldemort had escaped. Their desperate fight for survival now seemed to be for nothing. "How did he get away? With Pettigrew not there, he would have had no help except for that great bloody snake. He could barely crawl."
"He did have some help, alas. Shortly after your return, Alastor Moody—or rather the person we thought was Alastor Moody—left Hogwarts' grounds, likely to render aid to his Master."
"Wait—Professor Moody?"
"I'm afraid so. It seems that the real Alastor was kidnapped before the term started. He was being impersonated by a Death Eater believed long dead, one with incredible acting skills. The deception fooled even me, I am ashamed to admit."
Harry's head spun at this revelation. "Who?"
"Barty Crouch, Jr. The son of the late Bartemius Crouch, Sr. It was likely Crouch who entered you in the tournament. The real Alastor Moody was kept in a trunk for months so he could be used for Polyjuice ingredients. He barely survived."
"Merlin. So—what about Pettigrew then? Where is he?"
Dumbledore rubbed his eyes and looked every day of his age. "Harry," he said gently, "I'm afraid that Mr. Pettigrew is no longer alive."
"What?!"
"As I said, the last two days have been quite chaotic. Pettigrew was badly injured when you appeared on the dais. He was taken to the Ministry for medical treatment, and was to be kept under Auror guard until his questioning. Alas, he was assassinated within hours of his arrival."
Harry could barely resist the urge to curse in front of the Headmaster. "How?"
"Again, we believe it was Barty Crouch, Jr. I can only guess at the sequence of events, but it seems Crouch returned to the graveyard to aid his Master, then went to the Ministry. He likely received orders to murder Pettigrew so he could not be questioned under truth serum. He was able to use Alastor's identity to gain access to the medical wing. Unfortunately, he killed a nurse, an Auror, and Pettigrew himself before escaping the building."
His head fell back against the pillow. What an utter disaster. Baby Voldemort had escaped. A murderous Death Eater was on the loose. And now Pettigrew was dead. He would never mourn the death of the man who betrayed his parents, but it might doom Sirius to life as a permanent fugitive.
"So everything's gone to hell in a hand basket," he summarized.
The Headmaster stroked his beard contemplatively. "Yes and no. The loss of life is tragic, and there is confusion and panic at the Ministry. But a greater tragedy has been averted. It may not seem like it, Harry, but you scored a victory against Voldemort in that graveyard. He was unable to kill you or Cedric. He was unable to regain a proper body, because you thwarted his planned ritual."
"But he's some sort of demonic baby now. What's to stop him from getting a real body tomorrow?"
"I must still research the matter, but I believe it very unlikely that he will be able to do so any time soon. Ritual magic is dangerous and complex. It is no coincidence that you were kidnapped so close to the summer solstice. You have likely bought us valuable time with your victory."
Victory. Harry felt like laughing. He could still recall the powerful spells that had battered his shield, and the blinding pain in his scar. And he would certainly never forget the vicious snake that attacked Cedric.
"It feels like we lost. We would have died if not for the portkey. Voldemort didn't even have a real body and he nearly crushed me. How was he so powerful? And the snake was impossible to kill. What was that thing? He called it Nagini."
"While Voldemort's spells were very limited by his homunculus form, he is still an extremely powerful wizard. You survived a battle that very few wizards could have, and you injured him, perhaps gravely. That is a victory. Madam Bones and I were astonished at the skills you displayed in your memory. I believe she intends to recruit both you and Cedric for the Aurors," he added with a smile.
He snorted. "And Nagini?"
"I believe she is his new familiar. She has clearly undergone some very dark rituals, and it will require very powerful spells to kill her. But she can be trapped. We shall find a way to deal with her."
"So what happens next?"
Dumbledore sighed, and Harry braced himself for more bad news. "That is a complicated question, I'm afraid, and I'm still sorting matters out. The short answer is that Minister Fudge refuses to believe that it's possible for Voldemort to return. He is not allowing any mention of it in Ministry reports. Indeed, he refuses even to watch the memory you provided."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Alas, no. If you must learn one thing about politicians, Harry, it is this: what matters most to them is how they are perceived, not whether their citizens know the truth. But this is not necessarily bad for us. If Tom's attempted return is concealed, his other followers will not know to seek him out. It is even possible he will not seek them out, as his most loyal are still in Azkaban."
"How can the Minister explain Pettigrew and fake Moody and the murders at the Ministry without mentioning Voldemort?"
"He is spinning a tale about a deranged Death Eater impersonating a war hero. He doesn't believe it was really Pettigrew, you see. And he refuses to acknowledge the possibility that Barty Crouch, Jr. is still alive. Both men have been officially dead for over a decade. He claims that poor Alastor was confunded by whoever kidnapped him. From Cornelius' point of view, this is one big conspiracy to weaken magical Britain and remove him from power."
"How can one person be so unbelievably stupid?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Foolish people cling to conspiracy theories because they find them more comforting than the truth. But Cornelius is not a dictator. Everyone is aware that Pettigrew had an accomplice, and he cannot stop Madam Bones from investigating. She knows the truth, even if she would be fired for speaking it. She is organizing a hunt as we speak. Things are not so grim."
"Except for Sirius."
"Yes, I'm afraid this does make his situation more difficult."
"I want to speak to Fudge."
"Pardon?"
"I am absolutely sick of this garbage, and I want Sirius freed. I'll figure out a way to convince him about Pettigrew, at least."
"The Minister is not an easy man to persuade when his mind is made up, I'm afraid."
"Then help me persuade him. You must know some way to manipulate him. You owe me this much, Headmaster. You've said you're sorry for what's happened this year. Make it up to me by helping me free Sirius. I need at least one good thing to come from that dead rat. How do I convince the Minister to do the right thing?"
Dumbledore sighed with resignation. "I shall think on it."
"Thank you, and please hurry."
He nodded politely and rose from his chair. "I am needed at the Ministry again. There is outrage over the deaths there, and international uproar over the tournament. The Bulgarians are threatening sanctions because an unforgivable was used on their Champion, and I do not blame them. With the attack at the World Cup and now this, the year has been one long disaster for magical Britain."
"No argument here."
"Things will get better, Harry. I shall leave you to your recovery, and to your many admirers. There is a rather large collection of cards and gifts outside your door. Miss Granger is quite insistent on seeing you."
He smiled for the first time since he awoke.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Though he was confined to the hospital wing, Harry's next day was very busy. It seemed as if half the school wanted to visit him. Hermione had entered first, and their tearful hug would have lasted for hours had she been allowed to squeeze his ribs. She stayed by his side the entire day, even skipping her classes, as a steady stream of well-wishers stopped by.
The entire Pride filed through one at a time, either expressing their awe at the fight he had survived, or joking around to lighten his mood. The newspapers were reporting conflicting things, incredible rumors flew around the school, and everyone wanted to hear Harry's point of view. He told them all the truth, but left out Voldemort's role, heeding the Headmaster's advice. If he wanted to convince Fudge to do the right thing, there was no sense in talking about infant Dark Lords.
The Weasley twins brought him a rat plushie for the sole purpose of letting him blast it into stuffing. All three of them found it quite enjoyable.
Ron had come in immediately after them, expressing his shock over what happened. Harry decided he trusted him enough to relate the whole story. Relations were steadily improving between the trio, though they were nowhere near what they once were. Ron had tentatively suggested that Harry and Hermione visit the Burrow over the summer, and they had accepted, at least for a short visit.
Seamus, Neville, Ginny, and other Gryffindors likewise passed through, and the goodwill expressed by everyone warmed his heart. It could not have been more different than the atmosphere of November, when it felt like most of the school hated him.
Harry put aside his dark thoughts from the previous day and tried to simply enjoy the company of his friends.
The Durmstrang contingent was leaving the next morning, so he received a brief visit from Viktor Krum too. The quidditch star apologized for his role in the debacle of the third task, and vowed he would never let anyone control him again. He expressed regret that they never got to play their pick-up game, and Harry admitted it had slipped his mind in the chaos of the year. They left with a promise to play it one day, perhaps even in the pro leagues. Harry was flattered with Viktor's insistence that he had the makings of a world-class player.
Given the hug exchanged between Viktor and Hermione, he suspected they would be sharing a private goodbye later that night.
He was disappointed to discover that Beauxbatons had left immediately after the tournament, not wishing to be caught up in any more chaos in Britain. Fleur had attempted to visit him, but he was under guard and unconscious. She had left him a friendly but somewhat formal letter. That was to be expected, he supposed. They hadn't developed much of an emotional connection beyond a teasing sort of friendship, even if the sex had been mind-blowing. She had already told him he wasn't her type.
Her letter implied that they might see each other over the summer, as her mother was still working on a plan to consult with a necromancer. The Delacour family intended to pay their debt to him. Harry still shuddered at the word 'necromancer,' but was willing to take the meeting if they could get it past Dumbledore. He didn't want anything associated with Voldemort attached to him, especially if it involved 'death magic.'
A brief letter arrived from Tracey too, who had signed it 'your serpentine slut.' It castigated him for being a reckless, idiotic Gryffindor, and for endangering her favorite human sex toy. That brought a smile to his face. Neither she nor Daphne could get away with visiting him, but she promised unholy vengeance if he didn't find a way for a final liaison with both of them before the year ended. With only four days before the Hogwarts Express left, and exams winding down, he hoped it wouldn't be too difficult to pull off.
The best card of the day came from 'Snuffles.' It depicted an animated cartoon in which a big black dog urinated on a dead rat. The Marauder was no doubt ecstatic that his long-time nemesis was dead, even if it complicated his future. The letter expressed his profound regret at being unable to visit, but reminded him that they would soon see each other in person. Harry hoped that meant he would be spending most of the summer with him.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"That's where the fangs went in," Cedric said, showing his thigh to them. He had dropped his trousers to reveal his new scar to Harry, Hermione, and Cho.
The foursome was gathered in the Room of Requirement, two days after Harry's release from the hospital wing. Cedric had returned to Hogwarts earlier in the afternoon, and only now, late in the evening, had he found time to escape the crush of well-wishers within Hufflepuff.
"Merlin," Hermione whispered, examining the scar. "That looks like it hurt."
"Like you wouldn't believe. They thought they might have to amputate my leg at first."
Harry leaned down to look at the wound. The fang marks were an inch in diameter and six inches apart, revealing the huge dimensions of Nagini's mouth. The surrounding flesh was dark gray, with little black lines extending from the punctures.
"It's supposed to get better," Cedric said, pulling up his trousers. "Pretty damn ugly right now."
Cho tutted and squeezed his arm. "It's not ugly. It's a mark of how awesome you are. You should be proud."
"I'm proud to be alive at least."
"Me too," Harry said. "It was a close-run thing."
"I still can't believe we made it out of there. I owe you my life yet again, Harry. If you hadn't been able to fight off You-Know-Who himself, I'd be dead."
"Oh, please. If you hadn't kicked that snake's ass, I'd be dead. Plus, you got us out of there with the Cup. Let's call it even. No debts among friends."
"Hear, hear!" agreed Cho.
Cedric eased himself onto a sofa the room had provided. Cho sat down next to him, while Harry and Hermione shared their own couch opposite them.
"Merlin, it feels good to sit down," the older boy sighed. "I didn't think I was going to escape Hufflepuff tonight. It was a madhouse. It was like they were trying to kill me with hugs. I've never seen so many people crying and laughing at the same time."
Harry snickered. "That's what you get for being a Hufflepuff. Your house is way too emotionally supportive."
Cedric gave him a one-fingered salute.
"They're just happy to have you back in one piece," Hermione said. "Plus, you and Harry are both Tri-Wizard Champions. A shared victory is still a victory for Hufflepuff."
"I suppose. I just don't want anyone to try to lift me on their shoulders again."
"Well, there's no one to bother us now," Cho said. "I propose we sit here and get stinking drunk to celebrate the end of an insane year."
"Now there's an idea I can get behind," Cedric agreed. "Anyone have firewhiskey?"
"No, but I bet I know someone who does," Harry said with a grin.
Less than a minute later, each of them had a shot of firewhiskey in their hands, and an assortment of bottles lay at their feet.
Harry raised his glass. "To Dobby!"
Cedric laughed. "To two-way portkeys!"
"To Harry and Cedric!" cheered Hermione.
"To no more deadly fucking contests!" finished Cho.
Each downed their shots and belched fire.
An hour and a half later, each was more than a little drunk, and the tension that had dominated their lives for the past few months was slowly being exorcized. Hermione had started her second bottle of wine, and Harry was matching Cedric shot for shot. Cho was content to sip from every available bottle.
"I just want to emphasize to you kids," Cedric slurred, "that I never have to take another test in my life!"
"Fuck off," Harry grumbled, tossing back another shot of firewhiskey and trying to scorch him with the results. Though he didn't have to take exams this year, he wouldn't have the same luxury next year.
"I feel so sorry for you," giggled Hermione. "I can't wait to take my OWLs."
"Pfft," said Cho. "You won't be saying that next year. You won't have time to shag Harry, let alone half of Gryffindor."
"Hey!"
Harry laughed. "I'm sure Hermione will have a tight schedule worked out. Gangbangs every other Saturday, from precisely 9 to 11."
She smacked him on the chest and gave him a glare that was defused by the tiniest of smiles. "Harry Potter."
"What? I love seeing you like that. Don't pretend you don't love it too."
"Yes, well…" she began, but blushed and couldn't come up with a response. A handful of drinks was enough to shroud her intellect in a pleasant haze.
Cho laughed at the look on her face. "I like it sometimes too, Hermione. Don't be ashamed. No one can tattle, and our boys don't mind."
"No, they don't," Cedric agreed, running his fingers through her hair. "They like to see their girls having fun, as long as they get to participate."
She smirked and pecked him on the lips. "And thank Merlin for that."
Cho looked between Harry and Hermione, who were more relaxed than she had ever seen them. "Speaking of participation, I'm surprised you two aren't in your secret club right now. Are they not celebrating?"
Harry shrugged. "They probably are. But I'm tired of being mobbed by people, and the end-of-year party isn't until tomorrow night anyway. Did you guys want an invite?"
"Hmmm," Cedric mused, "that actually sounds like a fantastic way to end my Hogwarts career, assuming we're still welcome."
"Of course you are," Hermione said. "We can sneak you in."
Cho squeezed Cedric's crotch, careful to avoid his injured leg. "Consider us there. I like watching crazy people have sex in one big room. Gryffindors rock."
"Yes, we do," said Harry. "Maybe Angelina and Martigan will break out the lust potion."
"Oh, Merlin, I won't be able to sit down on the train ride home," groaned Hermione.
"You could always not take it."
She huffed and drained the dregs of her glass, as if his declaration were absurd.
He loved the lack of tension in her demeanor. After the violence following the task, she hadn't wanted to let him out of her sight, going so far as to beg Madam Pomfrey to let her sleep in the hospital wing. It hadn't worked, so she had settled for burying her face in his shoulder and sniffling until she extracted a promise that he would never get injured again. Both knew how unlikely that was, but it was a reassurance she needed to hear.
They had made love for more than an hour this afternoon, slow and tender, both trying to remind themselves that the danger, for now, had passed. Only now did she seem like she was no longer sick with worry.
Cho giggled. "I can't believe I'm sitting here drinking and talking about a sex club with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. You two were so different last year."
"Thankfully, my teammates realized I needed an outlet. And who knew Hermione was secretly the horniest girl in school? I didn't."
Hermione blushed again but raised her chin. "I did."
He tweaked her uniformed breast. "And you like people to know it too, even if you won't admit it."
"You like to be watched that much, Hermione?" Cho asked.
She shrugged, too drunk to dissemble, even if she found the admission embarrassing. "It turns me on. It makes me feel good about myself too, at least while it's happening, and yes, I know that's crazy."
Everyone laughed, and Cho snuggled into Cedric's arm. She watched Hermione intently, until the girl noticed her attention.
"What?"
"Just thinking," she said with a drunken giggle. "You know what I want to watch?"
"I'm almost afraid to ask."
"I want to watch you masturbate, right in front of us. I've only ever seen you getting plowed from behind, with your cute little pussy covered in cum."
Hermione goggled at her. "Are you serious?"
"We're all friends here. You like to be watched, so give us a show. We'll sit on this couch and watch you. Everybody wins."
Harry turned to his best friend with a delighted smile. "I wouldn't mind seeing that either."
"Oh, Merlin."
"Well, I certainly have no objections," Cedric said, taking another sip of whiskey and grinning at Hermione.
Cho patted the seat next to her. "Come over here, Harry. Let's be her audience. I bet she's already dripping wet."
He stood and looked down at Hermione. She was clearly thinking it over. He could tell the moment she decided. She met his gaze with mischief dancing behind her eyes.
"You heard her. Go sit down. But on one condition: I'm going to want a show of my own afterwards. Do you promise to give it to me?"
"Er, sure."
Cho cheered as he plopped onto the couch next to her, sandwiching her between him and Cedric. Hermione stood, swaying a little, and pulled her couch closer to theirs, so that it was only a few feet away.
She sat down and leaned back, not bothering to take off her uniform. Instead, she reached down and pulled off her panties, tossing them at Harry. She flipped up her uniform skirt and spread her legs wide, leaning back to give the trio an open view of everything she had to offer.
Cedric whistled. Cho laughed and leaned in to examine her exposed folds. "You whore. I love it."
Hermione blushed but looked at them boldly, proud of herself.
Harry took a moment to admire his friend. A year ago, he would have fainted in shock from seeing her spread her legs so brazenly. Now she was inviting them to ogle her. The alcohol no doubt helped, but she had been transformed into a much more confident—and kinky—version of her old self.
Her pubic hair had been trimmed neatly until it was only an inch in width. What remained was a thick, bushy stripe that hinted at how hairy she could be if she chose. Her labia were bare and already glistening. He wondered how many cocks had felt the embrace of those soft lips this year, and the thought made him hard.
"I told you she'd already be wet," Cho said. "Such an adorable little slut."
Hermione closed her eyes, a little smile on her face. She wanted to feel their eyes upon her rather than look at them. She teased her clit until it swelled, then spread her pink lips with two fingers, exposing herself to them.
"Fuck, that's hot," Cedric murmured.
She spread her legs wider and her audience grew quiet. Reaching deep inside herself with a finger, she spread her wetness across her lips until they were shining. She began teasing her clit back and forth, imagining that they were staring at her in awe. That they were so turned on by her they couldn't stand it.
Her arousal grew fiercely, and her breathing sped up as she teased herself. The only sound in the room was her panting and the slick sounds of her pussy when she penetrated herself. She flexed her inner walls repeatedly, hoping they could see beyond her engorged lips into her pink depths.
"Hermione," she heard.
The voice pulled her out of her fantasy. She opened her eyes and saw all three of them watching her intently. Cho had taken both boys' cocks out of their trousers and was stroking them while they watched. Her legs were spread too, draped over the boys' legs. Cedric's hand was rubbing her through her panties, on which there was a growing wet spot.
"Look what you're doing to us," Cho said with a soft smile.
Hermione met each of their eyes, inspired by the lust she saw there.
"You are so fucking hot," Harry said, so sincerely that she felt her pussy gush with more arousal.
She closed her eyes and let her imagination run wild. Merlin, she felt so dirty. But knowing that she inspired such wanton behavior in others lit her on fire. She could feel Harry's gaze on her pussy, and knew that he desperately wanted to fill it. There was an ache in her belly that was growing impatient.
She reached lower and filled herself with three fingers. Her lips spread wide as she groped shamelessly for her g-spot. Fingers were no substitute for a hard cock, but knowing they were watching her was all she needed. With her palm pressing firmly against the swollen nub of her clit, she began panting roughly as her arousal grew.
A loud moan escaped her as slick fingers dug into her walls with soft squelches. The bliss of release was approaching now, and she wanted them to see her in the most explicit throes of ecstasy. Hermione withdrew her fingers and thrust her hips into the air, shoving her pussy toward their faces. Her thumb rubbed her clit mercilessly, and she whimpered as orgasm overpowered her.
Her lips and asshole flexed powerfully with each contraction, and she hoped her voyeurs could see everything. A gush of arousal seeped out and dripped into her ass as she came, and it drove her to new heights. She cried out and rubbed harder, cursing aloud as her clit exploded with sensation. Her orgasm peaked, then fell, then rose to another ecstatic crescendo before she collapsed against the couch, trembling as aftershocks ran through her.
As she came down from her bliss, she opened her eyes to see Cho's head thrown back against the couch. She moaned and writhed against Cedric's fingers, her panties still on, and came soon after. The wet spot on her panties grew until she soaked them, gasping and trembling as ecstasy overcame her too. She had stopped stroking both boys, too lost in her own lust to do anything more than grip them.
She was overcome with giggles when she finished, and looked at Hermione with disbelieving eyes.
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen, girl! You're shameless!"
Hermione smiled coyly at her audience, too inebriated to care about what she had just done. She stared directly into Harry's eyes and licked one of her wet fingers. "How was the show?"
"Un-fucking-believable," he said hoarsely, looking as if he were about to burst in Cho's hand. "Dear God, Hermione."
Her eyes glinted with amusement. "Now that I've provided the entertainment, I want some of my own."
"Name it," Cedric said. He too looked desperate to achieve his own release.
She tapped a sticky finger to her lip, as if thinking on the matter. "Hmmm. You know, I couldn't help but notice all the times you've checked Harry out in this very room, Cedric. And I saw you giving a very enthusiastic blowjob to Fred not so long ago."
Cho cackled with delight, and Harry's eyes slowly grew wide.
"I think, given what you two have just been through together, that it would cement your bond of friendship if you were to help each other cum too."
She grinned at the look on Harry's face. He was staring at her incredulously. "Are you serious?"
"Very."
Cho clapped her hands. "Oh, that would be so fucking hot. Cedric?"
"You know I'm up for anything, and it would be unfair of me not to lend a hand to someone who just saved my life. It's up to Harry."
All eyes turned to him, and he looked between them, trying to decide if he were being pranked. He was rather drunk at the moment, but also very aroused from what Hermione had just done. All three faces were wearing hopeful expressions.
"Er…"
Cedric leaned across Cho and rested a hand on his thigh. "I go both ways, mate. You've got a nice, big cock, and I'd love to get you off. I won't be offended if you say no, but I will happily give you the best blowjob you've ever had in your life."
"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, almost begging. "Please? I want to see it so much."
He looked between them once more, considering what to do. He was drunk and among friends, and had just come through a traumatic year. Why not make them happy? He decided it wasn't a big deal.
"Okay, fine. What do you want me to do?"
Cedric smiled as the girls cheered. "I want you to sit there and relax. When I'm done, you can use your hand, or your mouth, or whatever you want on me."
He took one last look at the smile that was threatening to burst Hermione's face, and agreed. "Alright then. I'm game, just this once."
The girls watched in breathless anticipation as Cedric leaned across Cho toward Harry's lap. His cock was still hard, pointing straight up. He shivered as he felt the caress of Cedric's hand. His grip wasn't as soft as the girls', but it was still a pleasant sensation to be touched, and he was desperate for release.
Cedric leaned down further, and he felt a soft, wet tongue lick his entire length. A warm mouth engulfed his head, and he leaned back and closed his eyes, focusing only on the sensation. Cedric was squeezing his shaft with the gentlest of grips, while suckling on his tip tenderly.
Harry's cock throbbed in his friend's mouth. There really wasn't much difference between this and what he felt with girls, he decided, and Cedric knew what he was doing. His breathing sped up as he teased the underside of his crown relentlessly. It swelled with need, but Cedric seemed intent on coaxing out his release slowly.
"How is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, the grin in her voice obvious.
"Nice," was all he could say as Cedric kissed his tip and then released a long trail of saliva onto his shaft.
Without warning, he leaned down further and took most of Harry's length into his mouth. Harry groaned as he slid along the softness of his throat. Cedric lowered himself until his nose was buried in his pubic hair. The pressure was exquisite, and he could barely resist the urge to thrust into his face.
As if he knew what he was thinking, Cedric released half his length and held still. He pulled Harry's ass forward, encouraging him to thrust. Harry couldn't resist. He gently bucked his hips, sliding most of his cock into Cedric's mouth. Cedric teased his balls with one hand and soon Harry was panting and thrusting slowly into his throat, no longer caring that it belonged to a boy.
"Holy shit," whispered Cho.
"I'm about to cum," he gasped.
Cedric withdrew and engulfed his head with his lips, then stroked him fiercely. Harry groaned and erupted into his mouth, spurting thick ropes of cum a dozen times or more. Cedric suctioned and swallowed, taking every last drop.
Harry opened his eyes, still panting, and the older boy pulled away with a grin.
"Dear God, that was so fucking hot," Hermione whispered.
"Yes, it was," Cho agreed. Her smile turned impish. "Your turn, Harry."
She sprang from her seat and sat down next to Hermione. Both girls leaned forward excitedly. Harry looked down at Cedric's hard cock uncertainly.
Cedric laughed. "Thank you for letting me do that. I don't want to freak you out, though. You don't have to return the favor."
"No, I'll do it. Only fair, I suppose."
"Just use your hand if you want."
Harry nodded and reached for the other boy's cock. This was the first one he had held in his hand other than his own. The skin was softer and more pliant than he expected, and the flesh beneath it harder. He gave an experimental tug. Cedric's cock was noticeably smaller than his own, but still felt big in his hand.
"That's it," Cho giggled. "You can do it."
He rolled his eyes and gripped the cock more firmly. Cedric was already very turned on by what had just happened, and he hoped to make short work of him. He slid his hand along his length, tugging gently, but felt as if he didn't know how to please him.
"Just kiss the tip, Harry. Please," Hermione said breathlessly.
"The things I do for my friends," he murmured.
He leaned down and hesitantly tasted the tip of Cedric's cock, kissing it as she instructed.
"Now lick all around his head with your tongue. Slowly," she said.
He did so, bathing it in his saliva, which made it easier to suction. His swollen crown throbbed at the next kiss, and Harry obligingly took it into his mouth. Cedric groaned, and he supposed that meant he wasn't doing too terribly. Just as the girls often did for him, he suckled it as if it were a huge nipple and began stroking him harder.
"Open your mouth a little," instructed Cho. "You can go down further."
Harry obeyed, and managed to take a couple inches of Cedric's length. He dared not go further lest he gag. He suctioned as he bobbed his head and stroked, gripping his shaft hard. Cedric was panting now, and Harry could feel his soft crown pulsing against his tongue.
"I'm almost there."
He pulled back, not willing to let him shoot in his mouth. That was a bridge too far. Instead, he stroked vigorously as Cedric panted and shot thick ropes of cum into the air. They landed on the floor between the couches in long stripes. The last few spurts dribbled out of his cock and coated Harry's hand.
He examined it curiously while the girls applauded and Cedric smiled at him.
"Thank you, Harry."
"Er, you're welcome."
The experience confirmed his opinion that he wasn't really into guys, but that it wasn't a big deal to give pleasure to one of his friends. After saving each other's lives, what did an orgasm matter?
Hermione jumped into his lap and hugged him, nibbling his ear. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. "That was so hot I can't even describe it. I want you to pound the fuck out of me. Right now, while they watch. Then I want to watch your big dick turn Cho into a bigger whore than I am."
He smiled and returned her embrace. He had a feeling the night was about to get truly raunchy.