Harry Potter and the Forbidden Love Curse(g/b g/b/b)

Warning!! Not a lesbian story. This is a Harry Potter um… Fan fiction?

“That rat, Harry Potter,” Hermione Granger muttered to herself, squirming uncomfortably, “this is his doing.”

Squirming sent little shivers of pleasure working through her body and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. Her body was curiously sensitive, every little move making the thick wool school uniform rub deliciously against her. Especially her nipples, which ached they were so hard. Heat had bloomed between her thighs, and her panties were soon wet with sweat, or what she assumed was sweat. All in all, she was a miserable mess of jangling nerve endings.

And it had all started when Harry Potter had come into potions class. Somehow he had done this to her. Exactly how, she wasn’t sure. She’d never felt like this before, her twelve-year-old body alive with sensations she couldn’t identify.

Was this his retaliation for my harmless little curse? This seemed excessive for turning his socks pink, she thought, squeezing her thighs together like she had to pee. It was the wrong thing to do, her thighs rubbing against her very tender sex. Shockwaves of pleasure washed through her, and again she had to bite her lip to keep quiet. Opening legs slightly, she let air find her burning flesh, shivering deliciously.

These pranks are getting out of hand, she thought, trying to sit as still as possible.

It had started with Ron turning Harry’s lunch into a frog, everyone laughing in the lunch hall. Harry had gotten him back by putting a hole in his book back, sending his books and notes scattering. How exactly she got drug into the mess, she wasn’t sure. Probably just because she was a part of the gang. The pranks had been going on for a few weeks now, and she had wanted to one up Harry for making her homework dance around the room. She had ‘borrowed’ a book from the restricted section of the library, found the pink sock spell. Seemed harmless, enough.

Now, her discomfort was becoming too much to bear. She couldn’t concentrate on her studies, an alarming turn of events for her to say the least. Raising her hand, she asked to use the restroom, hoping to get herself together in the ladies room. On wobbly legs, she left the class, each step like a sweet torture. Never had the short walk to the bathroom been such a challenge but her knees kept wanting to buckle and send her spilling to the floor. Finally, she made it to the facilities, locked herself in a stall.

Suddenly hot, she stripped out of her robe, folded it neatly and laid it across the back of the toilet. Gingerly, she lifted her woolen skirt to see what was going on with her underwear. The crotch was a wet mess like she had peed herself. When she touched it with her fingertips, she found it was slick with a liquid she couldn’t identify, slippery and warm. Even through her cotton panties, the contact with her girlhood made her moan and shiver.

The sensation was curiously pleasant, sent shivers through her. Frowning, she gently rubbed at the soft folds of her sex. It wasn’t the first time she had done this, had found out a long time ago that rubbing down there felt good. She had figured that out in the bath as a little girl. Still, it had never felt like this before. Even biting her lip, she couldn’t completely stop the moan that spilled from her.

Playing with herself seemed to help with her condition, did something for the fierce heat between her thighs. It felt a little weird to be doing this at Hogwarts, especially since she was supposed to be in class, still she didn’t stop. She’d do anything for some relief right now.

With that thought, she was committed. She pulled her panties down around her knees, held her skirt up with one arm. Her fingers mashed the pale folds of her girlhood in frantic circles, each revolution making her moan. Knees weak, she leaned against the stall wall for support. She squeezed her eyes shut as pleasure crashed through her. With a mind of their own, her hips gyrated against her hand, her buttocks and stomach clenching.

“Oh, GOD,” she moaned. Never had she imagined her body could feel like this. Her hand had awakened something deep inside of her, and it stirred to life. Like a caged animal, ecstasy raged through her until she could barely stand it. Then her hips lost their graceful undulations, grew spastic. Her muscles clenching up, she felt something was about to happen even before the orgasm that had been rattling around inside her twelve-year-old body took her in its teeth and shook her like a rag doll. Even the wall couldn’t keep her on her feet as her body exploded with pleasure.

In a panting mess, she collapsed to the bathroom floor, for once too distracted to imagine the filth she might be sitting in. The concrete was cold against her bare buttocks, but she made no move to remedy the problem.

“What was that?” she asked, stunned by what had just happened. Never had she felt anything so intense before. She had had her first orgasm, even if she wasn’t old enough to recognize it for what it had been. All she knew was that her body was still tingling and felt as light as a feather, floating on a cloud of endorphins.

More importantly, the heat was gone from between her thighs and her nipples had finally stopped aching, no longer straining against the material of her blouse. While the mind-blowing sensation that had floored her had been wonderful, the relief left in its wake was so much more. She almost felt normal again, save for her ragged breathing and racing heartbeat.

After a moment, she realized she was sitting on the floor with her knickers around her knees. Blushing with embarrassment and glad no one had happened upon her, she got to her feet and pulled her panties up. The slimy feel of the crotch against her still sensitive sex was off-putting, so she shucked them off completely. Going without panties was not something she did by any means, but she’d make an exception this time.

She stuffed her panties into her robe before slipping back into it. Unlocking the stall, she stepped to one of the sinks. She grimaced when she saw her flushed face and mussed hair, did what she could to fix herself. Still looking a little harried but better, she headed back to class.

“Why, Ms. Granger,” the professor said, when she slid back into her seat, “nice of you to join us, again. I was about to send a search party after you.”

Turning scarlet, she hid her face as her classmates laughed.

Boy, you’ve got one coming, Harry, she thought, wondering if he could feel the daggers she was staring into the back of his head.

————————————–

“Harry Potter,” Hermione said, her voice sharp enough to draw looks from other students. Flustered, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into a supply closet. This was one conversation she didn’t want to have with so many prying ears around. She had been mortified enough for one day.

“Hermione? What are you doing?” Harry asked, as she secured the door.

“It wasn’t funny,” she said, her voice low but still full of venom, “not one bit.”

“What are you talking about? What wasn’t funny?”

“Your little gag in class,” she said, punching him in the shoulder, “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

“I-” Harry started to say more, but she cut him off.

“Seemed kind of excessive for turning your socks pink,” she said, indignantly.

“My socks pink?” He parroted, raising his eyes questioningly.

Hermione started to say something else, but she felt herself begin to become aroused, again. Heat blossomed between her thighs and her nipples grew turgid with blood, strained against her blouse. Her heart starting to race and her breathing became shallow. It was the same reaction she had had in class earlier.

“Oh, not this again,” she said, then punched Harry in the shoulder again, “This is horrible of you, Harry.”

“What are you talking about Hermione? Make sense,” Harry said, rubbing his shoulder.

“You did something to me because of the prank I pulled on you,” she said, her face flushed but not just with anger, “Don’t deny it.”

“What prank,” Harry asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

Frowning, she said, “I turned your socks pink.”

He pulled his slacks up, showing his black socks, said, “My socks aren’t pink.”

As her mind raced for an explanation, she asked, “So you didn’t do this to me?”

“Do what?” He asked, frowning as he noticed how upset she was, “What is wrong, Hermione?”

“I don’t know…I’m-excited. My heart is racing, and I’m hot all over. My skin is sensitive to the touch,” she said.

“Did-did it happen in class?” He asked, jerking in surprise.

Her eyes flashed at him, and she said, “You do know something about this. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said, holding up his hands, “It’s just something similar happened to me. Is still happening. It’s a little embarrassing so I won’t go into details but I think it might be related to what is happening to you.”

She met his eyes, read the truth in his words. Sighing in frustration, she felt like crying, even felt tears welling in her eyes. If not Harry, then who could have done this to her? And why? What had she done to deserve this torment?

Seeing her distress, Harry put an arm around her shoulder, pulled her into a hug. She put her head on his shoulder, glad for the human contact. Liking the warmth of him, she pressed closer. His scent tickled her nose, and he smelled like clean clothes and soap. She liked how he smelled, liked his arms around her. His heart was racing in his chest, and she felt something stiff pressed against her.

Her mind spinning, she realized he had an erection. That was what he meant by having ‘something similar’ happen to him. She knew boy’s penises grew hard when they were excited, something that had come up in conversation in the dorms. Suddenly something clicked into place and she realized her own condition: she was aroused, painfully so. She recognized the symptoms from something she had read in a book.

She pulled back, suddenly uncomfortable hugging him. Blushing, she said, “Oh.”

Turning even more scarlet than her, he said, “It won’t go down. It’s been like that ever since class started. It is getting painful.”

“You need to…masturbate,” she said.

“What is that?” Harry asked, frowning.

“It is when you use your hand to, you know…” she said, so embarrassed as she made a rude gesture to show him what she meant that she couldn’t even look at him.

“Hermione,” he laughed in surprise, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Oh, God,” she said, her face in real danger of catching fire it was so hot, “If I tell you something, you can never tell anyone about it.”

“Okay,” he said, grimacing in pain.

“When I went to the bathroom,” she said, unable to look at him, “I did it. It stops the discomfort for a while. At least, it did for me.”

“Oh,” he said, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Something is going on, and we need to figure it out,” she said, then laughed bitterly, “only I can’t think like this.”

“Well, I can’t walk,” he said, grimacing as he shifted his weight, “It hurts too much.”

She looked at him dubiously, saw his face pinched in pain, and she felt a surge of sympathy for him, “That bad?”

“Yeah. I feel like I might throw up,” he laughed, sourly.

“I guess we’ll have to do it here,” she said, blushing. Her face has been red for so long, she wasn’t sure it would go back to its normal color ever again.

“You mean…” Harry said, looking around the small closet.

“I know. Not much privacy,” she said, can’t believe she was even considering playing with herself while Harry was in the room with her, “I guess we can pick a corner, facing away from each other.”

He grimaced but nodded. She waited until he turned into his corner before turning her back on him. Hearing his zipper work, she knew what he was doing only a few feet away. It was more than a little weird, having a boy play with himself just there. All she had to do was peek over her shoulder, and she could watch him.

That thought had snuck up on her, caught her by surprise. Why was she thinking about spying on Harry playing with himself? Shaking her head to clear the nonsense, she took a deep breath and slipped her hand under her skirt.

Harry’s breathing was fast and heavy, and she tried to tune out the sounds of his effort. She focused on her fingers as they teased her tender bud. Like the time in the bathroom, her body was ready to be touched, and her caress awoke her passion. Putting a knuckle in her mouth, she bit it to keep her own sounds of enjoyment from escaping.

“Ugh,” Harry said, a wordless animal sound. Try as she might, she couldn’t completely tune him out. There was a curious smacking, almost sucking sound coming from behind her and she wondered what it could be. So much, that it was hard to concentrate on what she was doing.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she had to know what the noise was.

Just so I can get back to the task at hand, she thought, sneaking a peak. Harry was leaning against the wall facing the door, his forehead on his forearm. His right hand was furiously working up and down, but she couldn’t see on what. His penis, she assumed. The smacking sound was when his hand slid up and down.

To prove her theory, he pulled his hand away from his penis and spat into it. Her eyes widened as she was suddenly staring at his jerking erection. She meant to turn away but she couldn’t. It was the first penis she had ever seen in person, and it had her mesmerized. His fist closed around it, and he started jerking off again. Finally, she managed to tear her eyes away, flushing as she turned back to face her corner of the room.

“Ah, it’s no use,” Harry said, his frustration clear in his voice, “I can’t do it here. Can’t concentrate.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing at him. He shoulders were sagged, his posture one of defeat.

“I need something to look at,” he said, then laughed, “plus having you here is kind of embarrassing. The two are making it hard to, you know.”

Oh, I definitely know, Hermione thought.

“This is no good,” she said, worry creeping into her voice.

“I know,” Harry said, his own concerns clear when he met her eyes.

The book she had found on sex- the same one that had described her current symptoms aptly enough for her to recognize her own arousal and Harry’s- while poking around the restricted section of the library popped into her mind. She remembered reading it late at night with a flashlight, her head tucked under the covers. Wide-eyed, she had been a little embarrassed by some of the graphic moving pictures, but her curiosity on the matter had seen her through to the last page. She had had the most inappropriate dreams in her twelve years on the earth for a few weeks after finishing it. Some of them still made her blush, just thinking about them.

Thinking about the book made an idea pop into her head, one that made her more than just blush. Was she really thinking about that? Were things so bad that she was even considering it?

Harry must have noticed her reaction to the idea because he frowned and asked, “What? What is it?”

She met his eyes, managed a half-hearted smile, “It is nothing.”

“Oh,” he said, sighing heavily, “I thought you had something for a moment.”

He grimaced as he tried to shift his stance, his face pinched in pain. It killed her to see him like this. Harry and Ron were her only real friends, and she loved them dearly. Seeing her friend in pain was somehow worse than her own discomfort. Physical pain was one thing, but emotional pain always seemed to cut deeper.

Not believing she was saying it, she said, “There is one thing.”

“What?”

“Turn back around,” she said, her voice a little shaky she was so nervous. Her heart was pounding in her breast and her palms were sweaty.

Doing as she said, he looked at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, she moved to him, pressed her body against his back, his buttocks pressed against her sensitive lower abdomen. His body stiffened as she molded against him, her small breasts compressing against his back.

“What are you-” He gasped in surprise, but she cut him off.

“Hush,” she whispered in his ear, her arm slipping around to hold him close, “You and Ron are my closest friends and I love you both. I’d do anything for you two. Even this, if there was no other way.”

With that, she grasped his jerking erection in her fist, making the boy jerk and gasp in surprise. It felt bigger than she expected in her hand, substantial. In a way she couldn’t explain, it excited her that there was so much of him.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” Harry asked, his voice quavering.

“Does this feel good?” she asked, slowly running her hand up and down the length of him, “Am I doing this right?”

He moaned thickly, said, “Um, yeah. Are you sure about this?”

She felt a burst of warmth for the boy. His concern for her was touching, made what she was doing a little easier. He saw the significance of her actions, understood this was a big deal for her. For any girl, for that matter.

I’m giving a boy a hand job, she thought, a little amazed by the turn of events. The concept was fairly fresh to a girl her age. It just started entering conversations in the dorm, mostly overheard being talked about by some of the older girls.

“I want to help you, Harry. We need to do this so we can figure out what is happening to us, what we need to do next.”

“If you are sure,” he sighed.

“Thank you for being a gentleman, Harry,” she said, hugging him a little tighter.

Ever since meeting Harry and Ron, she’d broken more rules than ever before in her life. Maybe they were a bad influence on her, but she kind of liked being bad. She was being very bad right now, and it had her heart racing and her breathing all funny. She had to bite back a nervous giggle of excitement.

Still stroking him, she laid her head on his back. Again, the warmth of his body and the smell of him comforted her. She liked the feel of him pressed against her body.

“Hermione?” Harry asked, nervously.

“Yeah, Harry?”

He cleared his throat, his voice still thick as he said, “What about you? Don’t you need to, you know?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, a little embarrassed. In truth, she was in more than just a little discomfort. Every move she made was a sweet torture, her nerve endings so alive. Her nipples ached dully, and the heat between her thighs was almost unbearable. Juices were dripping from her, running down her legs.

“I could…” he started, then hesitated before pushing on in a rush of words, “I could help you. I mean, if you want. It only seems fair, right?”

“You mean…” she trailed off as she thought about what he was proposing. Her first thought was to tell him absolutely not, but she reconsidered. She was in too much discomfort to be prudish now.

“Yeah,” he said around a moan.

“Desperate times, right,” she said, with a nervous laugh, “Promise not to tell anyone we did this.”

“I won’t,” he said.

“Okay,” she said, her heart racing at the thought of a boy touching her there. Again, she got that jittery thrill of being naughty.

“Show me where,” he said, his voice breaking a little he was so nervous.

Oddly, his anxiousness help put her at ease. She took his hand with her free one, guided it under her skirt to the soft folds of her girlhood. A nervous giggle escaped her as his fingers touched skin. There it was. She was officially being felt up by a boy.

“Oh, wow,” Harry said, a hint of boyish excitement in his voice. He sounded almost like a kid in a candy store.

Blushing, she said, “You don’t have to enjoy it so much.”

“This is my first time touching a girl like this,” he said, laughing, “I can’t help it.”

“Well, this is my first time, too,” she said, sighing as his fingers gently caressed her very tender bud. This isn’t how she had imagined her first time, not even close to the scenarios she had daydreamed about on occasion. She was always much older and the setting much more romantic than a supply closet at Hogwarts.

At least, it was Harry, someone she could trust and had genuine feelings for. Maybe not romantic love, but the love of friendship. She relaxed a little bit, started to enjoy the feel of his hand on her sex. Her exhalations became soft moans of excitement.

“Am I doing this right?” he asked, his uncertainty endearing.

“It feels nice, just keep it up,” she breathed.

Her hips had begun to undulate against his hand as her body responded to his touch. Maybe it was instinct, but it seemed to know what it wanted and what to do to get it even if she didn’t. Closing her eyes, she let it have control, putting her thoughts aside to enjoy the waves of pleasure washing through her. Each on crested higher the one before it and seemed to crash harder into her.

“That feels so good, Harry,” she moaned, her hand snaking around to hug him.

He was making little animal sounds of excitement, his breathing shallow and sharp. Again, instincts kicked in, and she knew he was enjoying himself, as well. That knowledge gave her a weird sense of pride.

If you are going to do it, best do it right, she thought, grinning.

Like earlier in the bathroom, she felt a curious tension building in her body. Each wave of pleasure seemed to fill her up until she must surely burst from the pressure. Her hips jerked out of control, and her stomach muscles and buttocks kept clenching.

“It’s coming, it’s coming,” she hissed.

“What’s coming?” Harry asked, startled.

“The explosion!” Hermoine cried ou.

As if the word were an invocation, she orgasmed violently. Her whole body clenched up tight as a drum, then shook itself to pieces. She leaned heavily on Harry as her knees grew weak. The endorphins kicked in, and she felt incredible.

“Oh, oh,” Harry cried and stiffened. She felt his muscles clench as he orgasmed, looked over his shoulder to watch ribbons of white semen splash on the wall in front of him. His hips bucked as she continued to stroke his spasming penis.

Releasing him, she stepped back. Suddenly shy, he turned to look at her. The look on his face said he was feeling the same as her. Now that the immediate need for relief was gone, it had gotten awkward between them.

“Um, are you okay now?” he asked, pushing his flagging penis back in his pants and working the zipper.

“Yeah,” she said, then gave him a warm smile, “thanks to you.”

“I did okay?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“More than okay,” she said, then hugged him suddenly, “thanks for being such a good friend, Harry. I’m glad it was you.”

“Me, too,” he said, hugging her back. The hug did wonders and the awkwardness between them evaporated.

“We need to figure out what is happening,” she said, pulling back, “I don’t know how much time we have.”

“Time?” He asked, frowning.

“After I… went to the bathroom, the feeling came back,” she said.

“And you think it will happen again?”

“I think it might,” she said, cringing at the thought of the discomfort returning a third time.

“So, what do we do?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, hating the taste of the words on her tongue. She didn’t like not knowing something.

“That’s not good,” Harry said, shaking his head, “Ron and I usually turn to you at times like this.”

“I’ve never read about anything like this,” she said, miserable, “It has to be a curse, but which one? And who put the curse on us? Why? So many questions and no answers.”

“We could tell Dumbledore,” Harry suggested.

Hermione’s face turned bright red at the thought of telling him about this. How embarrassing would that conversation be? Shaking her head, she said, “That would have to be the last resort. I think I’d die of embarrassment if I had to tell him what we did.”

Harry nodded, said, “Okay. Any other ideas?”

“No,” she said, sighing.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” he said, looking around the closet, “We are going to be missed at our next class. Surely, they’ve noticed we are missing by now. If they search the school and find us when it happens again…”

She nodded, following his train of thought. She didn’t want to have to explain why she ditched class, especially if she became aroused again. What a mess that would be. Harry was right; they needed somewhere to hide until they figured this all out. Somewhere they could take care of the problem if it should arise, again.

Hermione shivered at the thought of Harry touching her, again. A little surprised, she realized she wouldn’t mind all that much. It had felt so good, his fingers doing wonderful things to her. Flushing, she had to look away, couldn’t meet his eyes with thoughts like that rolling around in her head.

“Um, where should we go?” she asked, her voice sounding weird to her own ears.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking at her funny.

He must have noticed, she thought, blushing. Did he know what her flushing meant? Did he know she kind of wanted him to touch her again?

“We can hide in the Forbidden Forest,” she suggested. The place kind of gave her the creeps, with its plethora of mythical creatures- especially the giant spiders- but she knew it would be one of the last places to be searched.

“Okay,” he said, then grinned, “assuming we can sneak out of the school, across the grounds, and all the way to the woods without being seen.”

“It’s our best option,” she said, wincing at his description of the obstacles in their path, “we have to try.”

————————————————————–

Collapsing to the ground, Hermione finally relaxed a little. The trip through the school had been a tense one. She kept expecting to round a corner and run into a teacher or, just as bad, another student. The sprint across the grounds hadn’t been any less stressful. She had had a death grip on Harry’s hand the whole way, kept looking over her shoulder expecting to see someone trailing after them. When they reached the edge of the trees, they had paused to make sure they hadn’t been discovered. Finally satisfied, they had moved deeper into the woods, looking for a place to hide.

Already the unnatural heat was coming back, the rest period even shorter than last time. By the time they decided on a spot, they were both uncomfortably aroused.

“I got to take care of this,” Harry said, moving a ways away. She could just make him out in the bushes.

Alone, she hiked her skirt up around her hips, letting the cool air kiss her burning flesh. It sent shivers through her young body. Casting one more glance to make sure Harry was still in his place amongst the bushes, she let her hand slip between her thighs. Her fingers mashed her labia, teased her tender bud, but it didn’t seem to feel as good as before. She kept trying, but it didn’t matter what she tried.

Feeling a surge of frustration, she called to Harry, “Is it working for you?”

“No,” he said.

She heard him rustling through the brush towards her, adjusted her skirt to restore her modesty. He looked as harried as she felt when he sat down at her side. His frustration was as thick as hers and clear on his face.

Hesitantly, she said, “Do you think it’ll help, if… If I did it for you?”

“Like in the closet?” He asked, trying not to seem too interested.

“Yeah,” she said, laughing.

“Do you want to try?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers, “I guess we need to try something.”

She nodded. On a whim, she pulled her skirt up so he could see the soft folds of her girlhood. It only seemed fair- after all, she’d already seen his. Looking at her young sex, he swallowed hard.

“Now you,” she said, fighting the urge to cover herself. She watched him fumble with his belt, then the zipper on his pants. He managed to pull his pants down to his knees, and she looked again at his jerking erection. She thought it was kind of cute.

Taking a deep breath, he mustered his courage and let his hand find the cleft of her pussy. His hand was warm compared to the chilly air, felt incredible. In lazy circles, he caressed her sensitive bud. She reached out to stroke him, liking the feel of him in her hand. Pumping her fist up and down, she looked at his face. It had to feel nice, but she wasn’t getting the reaction she was hoping for. The same was true of her. His caresses had felt amazing back in the closet but were dull, lifeless now.

She had a nagging suspicion it wasn’t his touch that had changed.

“This isn’t working, either,” he said.

“I was kind of afraid of this,” she said, giving up.

“Of what?”

“Did you notice the problem came back faster?” She asked, fixing her skirt.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding.

“I think, whatever this curse is, it is building toward something. I think the periods of relief will only get shorter and shorter.”

“I think you might be right,” he said, miserable.

“I think it is worse than that,” she said, sighing heavily. She met his eyes, and he saw her worry in them.

“Worse how?” Harry asked, looking like he really didn’t want to hear the answer.

“The first time,” she said, blushing, “I was able to do it myself. In the girl’s room. Then, in the closet, it wouldn’t work.”

“Right,” he said, nodding, “that is when we…”

“Right, that,” she said, her face growing even hotter, “if I’m right, we’ll have to try something… more. To make it stop hurting, we’ll have to do something more… sexual.”

“Oh,” Harry said, sitting back. He was clearly mulling over her observation, biting his lip as he tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying.

“Does that make sense to you?” she asked, hoping he had another explanation. She hoped she wasn’t right. She had already given him a handjob; how far would this curse push them?

“So the discomfort will come faster and faster, and we’ll have to…” he said, his voice trailing off.

She could see he was running the progression through his mind, blushed as his eyes widened.

“What happens if we run out of things to try?” he asked, making her blink in surprise.

So wrapped up in what she might have to do to make the arousal go away, she hadn’t considered somewhere down the road reaching a place where there was no more relief. His question would have knocked her down if she wasn’t already sitting. Her stomach sank at the thought of this discomfort going on indefinitely. She’d surely go mad.

“Okay,” she said, sighing, “are we agreeing about the curse building toward something?”

He nodded.

“Then we need to go about this smartly,” she said.

“How do you mean?”

“We need to draw this out as long as we can,” she said, feeling a little better now that they had a plan working, “Step by step, no skipping ahead.”

Snorting, he said, “What exactly does that mean?”

She turned scarlet as she said, “It means a… blowjob before sex. That kind of thing.”

“Oh,” he said, laughing nervously, “It is kind of weird hearing you say that. Some of the older boys talk about it… blowjobs. Do girls talk about this kind of thing?”

“Probably more than the boys,” she said, then in a hurry, “Not me. Other girls. Older girls.”

He managed a genuine laugh, amused by her hurried assertation.

“It’s not funny,” she said, but grinned sheepishly.

Still grinning, he asked, “Is that our next move?”

“Unless you can think of something else,” she said, looking at his penis. Was she really going to put it in her mouth? Did she really have a choice?

Harry shook his head, running a hand through his hair nervously. He looked scared and excited at the same time.

The look on his face was kind of amusing, and she had to smile. Maybe he had the right attitude about this. If she had to do it, maybe she should try to enjoy it. From what she had read in her book about sex, oral sex felt really good to receive. Remembering the way her body had exploded with ecstasy twice already, she shivered.

“This goes without saying,” she said, shyly putting an errant lock of hair back in place, “Whatever happens, it stays between us. No matter what we do, it is our secret.”

“I know,” he said.

Hermione nodded, then managed a smile for him. He returned it with a shy one of his own. When he offered his hand, she took it gratefully. She moved between his legs, took a deep breath to muster her courage and lowered her face toward his jerking erection. Before she could lose her nerve, she kissed the head of it, making Harry jerk. Recalling what she had read, she ran her tongue all around the crown. The noises Harry made let her know it felt good. Encouraged, she opened her mouth and let him in. His skin was salty on her tongue, with a faint milky taste she couldn’t identify. Pursing her lips to keep from dragging her teeth across his skin, she ran her mouth up and down his shaft. She moved too deep once, his erection making her gag as it bit into her throat.

Harry stroked her hair as she sucked his dick. It was a very familiar, intimate thing, a little show of affection. It had a curious effect on the situation. In a subtle way, it had shifted from being very clinical to something more personal. Taking her cue from him, she let her free hand explore his supine body. It was kind of thrilling, touching him like this, feeling his muscles just under the skin.

“That feels good,” he said, thickly.

After a while, her eyes started watering and her jaw to hurt. How long she had been doing it, she couldn’t say, but she hoped Harry would hurry up and finish. She was in enough discomfort as is without her face hurting, too.

As if reading her mind, he began to make sharp sounds of excitement, his hand nearly crushing hers. Sensing he was close, she worked harder to finish him off. He stiffened suddenly, his orgasm clenching him up. She wasn’t ready for it, had him deep in her mouth when the first hot ribbon of semen shot down her throat. Gagging, she didn’t move away fast enough, and another landed right on her tongue. The thick fluid tasted like salty milk, and she made a face of disgust as the rest of his load ended up on his stomach.

Very unladylike, she spat the nasty stuff to one side, then spat again to clear her mouth. She could still taste it on her tongue, feel it trickling down her throat.

Harry had his eyes closed, his face no longer pinched in pain. Sighing, he finally opened them and looked at her. His smile said it all, that he was feeling good. She felt a moment of envy, her own body a mess of jangling nerve endings.

In a move that startled a gasp from her, he swept her onto her back. It happened so quick, that she was surprised to be looking up at the sky. Then Harry’s face appeared above her, looking down at her from his hands and knees. He favored her with a playful smile that made her heart skip a beat.

What was about to happen dawned on her and for the first time it seemed real. Earlier, when she had explained her plan to him, it had been purely academic. Seeing the look in his eyes, her pulse kicked up, and her stomach felt funny. Hermoine wanted to balk, to change her mind but she couldn’t find her voice.

Harry gently pulled her skirt around her hips, revealing her sex. Feeling very vulnerable, she wanted to push it back down, to clench her thighs tightly so he couldn’t see her. Hermoine might have if she hadn’t remembered clenching her thighs closed only made things worse down there. Instead, she tried to control her breathing, forced herself to keep her legs spread. Lowering his face to the junction of her thighs, he placed a butterfly kiss on her tender flesh. She gave up on trying to control her breathing, decided to hold it, instead. When his tongue found her bud, she let her breath out in a rush. Rough and hot, it made her moan.

What is this, she thought, absurdly, third base?

She wasn’t sure about the baseball analogy, but there was a boy licking her pussy right now. It felt incredible. She didn’t care that it confirmed her fear about the curse escalating each time. Harry’s tongue was doing wonderful things for her body, and that was all she could think about right now. Little animal sounds of pleasure kept ripping from her slack mouth, growing louder as she grew more excited. It was freeing, not to hold them in like she had to at the school.

Her back arched and her hips gyrated against Harry’s face. He had to grasp her thighs to hold her to his mouth. It felt so good that her body seemed to want to escape the sweet torture. She had to grasp handfuls of grass to hold still.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. Her twelve-year-old body writhed in ecstasy. She was so excited that it didn’t take long to feel tension enter her body. Like a watch spring wound tighter and tighter, it built deep inside of her. She knew what happened when a spring was wound too tight; it blew, just like she did. Her orgasm made her cry out, spooking birds from their perch. Her thighs clamped on Harry’s head as her body spasmed violently. He shook with her, his glasses knocked ascue.

When the tension drained out of her, and she collapsed like a rag doll, she looked at the boy, his face red and wet from his efforts. His hair was even more a mess than usual. She thought he looked very cute.

“You are pretty good at that,” she breathed, smiling at him. Her body felt incredible. She’d almost forgotten how it felt not to be painfully aroused.

The compliment clearly pleased him, but he asked, “How would you know?”

“My toes are still curled,” she said, making him laugh.

——————————-

Where in the world could those two be off to, Ron thought, hot under Harry’s cloak of invisibility. With the dementor’s mistakenly after Harry, the Forbidden Woods was the last place they should be going.

Sitting in Herbology, he had seen them sneaking across the grounds hand in hand. That had made him frown, bothered him more than a little. For one, it was out of character for them. Especially Hermione. Why was she skipping class?

Then there was that other thing, but he didn’t want to think about that.

When the class had finally let out, he had gone to the dorm, borrowed Harry’s cloak, and set out to see if he could find them. He was concerned for his friends, especially Harry. As if the boy hadn’t suffered enough, now a madman was on the loose and looking for him. Worse, the creatures looking for the escapee were focusing on Harry for some reason.

Picking up his pace, he made for the place the duo had disappeared into the wood. He wasn’t sure what use he’d be if the dementors went after Harry again, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t do something.

Ron made it to the woods with no problem, thanks to the cloak. Unfortunately, once in its gloom, he realized a flaw in his plan. How he was supposed to find Harry and Hermione in all this acreage hadn’t occurred to him during his mad dash to get here.

Walking a ways in, he tried to spot a sign of their passage. Far from a hunter, it was a lost cause.

“Ah, Harry’s friend,” someone said from behind him, nearly startling him out of his skin. Whirling around, he found the centaur, Professor Firenze looming over him. He stumbled backward a few steps, then sat down heavily.

“Sorry to startle you, boy,” he said, his voice friendly, “It was not my attention.”

“You did just the same,” Ron said, standing up and brushing the debris from his backside.

“It is fortunate you have come,” Firenze said, shaking his head, “your friends need you.”

“Harry and Hermione?”

“The same,” the centaur said, nodding.

“You know where they are?” Ron asked, looking around the woods at a loss.

“I do,” he said, nodding, “Follow me.”

Ron followed the centaur deeper into the woods. He was glad for a guide because he would never have found them on his own.

Stopping, Firenze said, “Hold now. You need to prepare yourself for what you might see. Your friends are in heat. Not the natural heat of the rutting season. An unnatural force has them in its grip.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, frowning.

“You will see soon enough,” he said, nodding toward the hill in front of them, “your friends are just on the other side. This is where I take my leave. Their scent is an assault on my delicate nose. I’m afraid I haven’t the stomach to see them like that.”

More confused than enlightened, Ron watched as the centaur walked away. After he had disappeared into the brush, Ron turned his attention back to the hill. He didn’t know what waited for him on the other side. Firenze hadn’t done anything for his nerves.

Steeling his nerves, he started walking.

——————–

“Oh no,” Harry said, sitting up straighter.

Hermione knew what he meant. Their cycles were out of sink; she’d been in discomfort about fifteen minutes now and, judging by the look on his face, he’d just entered his. It kind of made sense, with her playing with herself in the bathroom. She’d started her up-down swing earlier than him.

When the heat had spread between her thighs, she hadn’t said anything. Harry would have wanted to deal with it right away, but they needed to buy as much time as possible. So she had sat really still, taking deep breaths to calm her jangling nerves. She had some success, kept the pain manageable.

She had bought at least fifteen minutes but had it really been worth it? They had talked around and around what was happening to them but were no closer to answering any of the important questions. They considered all the usual villains but dismissed them in turn. This didn’t seem like something Voldemort would do, nor Malfoy. It wasn’t their style. Sirius was out for Harry but he didn’t seem right, either.

Without a who, they couldn’t figure out a why, either. What had motivated someone to do this to them? Who had they wronged enough to want revenge on them? Assuming they knew the full consequences of the curse, the person would have to be pretty angry with Harry and Hermione to wish this torture on them.

They were no closer to figuring out their plight than before and the heat was coming back.

“It is happening, again,” Harry said, smoothing his robe around his stiffening penis.

“I know,” she said.

“How long has it been for you?”

She looked at him, asked, “You knew?”

“You tried to hide it but I knew,” he said, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“And you didn’t try to do something?” She asked, giving him a dirty look.

He gave her a warm smile, “I’ve known you a few years now. You can be stubborn sometimes. I figured if you weren’t speaking up, you had your reasons.”

She shot him a look for the ‘stubborn’ part but she knew he was right.

“So, is there a reason?” Harry asked.

“I was trying to buy us some time,” she said, then sighed heavily, “A lot of good we did with it.”

“There is one thing we haven’t considered,” he said, looking away.

“What?”

“Could have you, maybe… Accidentally… Did this when you tried to turn my socks pink?” he asked, still not looking at her.

She wanted to get mad and tell him to spit up a rope but she didn’t. Instead, her mind replayed the preparing of the curse. She had snuck into the restricted section of the library last night, found a book called Wizardly Pranks and took it back to the dorm to find something to do to Harry. She had stayed up late, reading the book by flashlight. Some of the pranks had seemed mean spirited but the pink socks seemed harmless enough. This morning, she had a small window while the rest of the girls had been in the shower or getting ready for the day to put her curse on Harry, so she had to rush it.

Was it possible that in her rush, she had done this? Maybe used the wrong curse by accident or simply messed up the pink socks gag in an unusual way. She hated to admit it but, of all the scenarios, it made the most sense.

“Oh God, Harry,” she said, putting a hand to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes, “I might have. I…”

He moved closer, put his arm around her. Sobbing, she squeezed him back, her head on his shoulder. He comforted her as best he could, whispered it was okay. His words were sweet but how could it be okay. All of the pain, the things they had to do to each other… All because of her.

“I’m so sorry, Harry… For the things we did,” she said.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back soothingly, “It wasn’t all bad.”

She blinked in surprise, then lifted her head to look at him. She saw the truth in his eyes, and it made her blush, but she also saw a tenderness that made her feel warm all over. Really without thinking about it, she kissed him.

“Thank you for being so sweet,” she said, meeting his eyes, “you have every right to be mad at me.”

“It has been an up and down sort of day,” he said, smiling at her, shyly.

“Pervert,” she laughed, then kissed him again. This time, she parted her lips to let his tongue into her mouth. It was her first real kiss from a boy, and it left her tingling all over.

“Good news is,” he husked, when their lips parted, “we finally have an idea of where to start. Bad news, we have to sneak back into Hogwarts so you can get the book.”

“We have another problem,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m in no condition to walk,” she said, with a sheepish grin, “Just sitting here, I can manage. If I tried to stand, I don’t think my knees would hold me. It seems like it is getting worse each time, doesn’t it?”

Sighing heavily, he nodded.

“So what do we do?” she asked, her heart pounding in her breast. She knew the answer to her question, knew what came next. Was she ready for it, was another question. A lot of things had happened today, a lot of firsts for her and Harry but this was a big one.

He met her eyes shyly, managed a sheepish smile, “You know.”

“Yeah, I do,” she said, suddenly shy. Even after all they had done today, she still felt awkward about this.

“We can wait a while if you want,” he said, and she felt another surge of warmth for him. He was truly a gentleman, considerate to a fault.

“No, not now that we have a plan,” she said, meeting his eyes, “but can we go slow? I… I don’t want to rush through this.”

She didn’t want to say this was her first time, that she was about to lose her virginity, but he seemed to understand just the same. With great affection, he touched her face, kissed her gently. It was a tender kiss that lingered until they were both out of breath. She met his eyes and finally felt she was ready.

Removing her cloak, she stretched it out on the ground behind her. She looked away as she pulled her vest over her head, then started unbuttoning her blouse. Her fingers weren’t working right, and the buttons gave her fits. Finally, it hung open, a sliver of her stomach and a hint of cleavage tucked away in a bra just visible. She shivered as Harry’s hot gaze touched her skin. She hesitated, very self-conscious. She’d never been naked in front of a boy- well, save for earlier- and it was a little daunting. What if Harry didn’t like her, didn’t find her attractive?

Mistaking her hesitation as an invitation to undress her, Harry slipped the blouse off one shoulder, then the other. Kind of glad it was out of her hands now, Hermione helped him take it off completely. Twelve- almost thirteen, she thought defiantly, her breasts were small, little more than a handful. Still, they drew his eyes and again she shivered. Her heart racing, she undid the clasp in the front, slipped out of her bra. Harry swallowed hard, his eyes wide at the sight of her pale, upswept breasts. Her worry about him not finding her attractive proved foolish, it would seem.

“You need to undress, too,” she said, fighting the urge to cover herself.

He blushed, tore his eyes away. She watched as he shrugged out of the uniform top, admiring his body. He had a lean figure, not quite grown into the man he would become. Still, his shoulders were wide, and he had nice arms, a flat belly. She wondered how he would feel against her when it came time.

The question didn’t do anything for her nerves, so she looked away, focusing on her own clothes instead. Unzipping the skirt, she hesitated, then reminded herself Harry had already seen everything down there. Her face flushed, she shimmied out of the skirt so that she was naked save for her shoes and knee socks. The air was cool on her burning skin, felt incredible enough to make her sigh.

Naked, Harry turned to her. His eyes roamed up her supine body, and he smiled nervously, “You are so beautiful.”

Caught off guard, the compliment stole her breath. She gave him a warm smile, “Thank you, Harry.”

“How did I not notice before,” he said.

“Well,” she said, laughing playfully, “I wasn’t naked.”

“True,” he said, grinning, “Still, I should have noticed.”

The compliment made her feel tingly all over. It was sweet, made her feel desirable, which she really needed right now. She felt so vulnerable, naked in front of a boy. Even if the boy was a friend like Harry, it was still scary.

“Um, do you know how to… do this? I mean, I know what they teach in health class but…” Harry said, blushing.

“Move between my legs,” she said, opening them wide for him. He did as she said, kneeling between her spread thighs. She couldn’t take her eyes off his jerking erection, thinking that thing had to go inside of her somehow. Would it fit?

With the fingers of one hand, she spread her labia so he could see the pink half-moon shape of her hymen. He moved forward until the head of his penis was pressed against her maidenhead.

Hesitating, he looked down at her, said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Again his concern was touching and she smiled up at him. Biting her lip, she nodded. Was she ready to lose her virginity at the age of twelve? No, not really. Was she ready for some relief from the arousal? Enough so, that she was about to let Harry have sex with her.

He pushed his hips forward, and she gasped as he slipped inside of her. There was a slight pinch, but she was more than ready for him. His eyes wide, he looked down at her young sex as it gripped him. He glanced back up at her, and the look on his face was almost comical.

Not moving, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“It stung a little but I’m okay,” she said, propping up on her elbows to look at where they had come together. It was a bit weird to see their bodies joined, to feel him inside of her.

She looked up and met his eyes. He favored her with a tender, uncertain smile, and she thought again she could have done worse than Harry for her first lover.

“Is it okay to move?” He asked, nervously.

“Just take it slow,” she said, biting her lip.

The initial thrust had stung her torn flesh but the second only felt good. As Harry’s penis bit deep, it forced a moan from her slack mouth.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“It is perfect,” she said, smiling up at him. She liked how he was leaned over her, his arms bracketing her waist. It made his shoulders seem broader and chest deeper, in a way that she found appealing. While she had started noticing boys recently, she’d never really put much thought into what she like about them.

Even though she was inexperienced, her body seemed to know what it wanted, her hips rolling up to meet his thrusts. He was deeper in her than before, making her cry out in enjoyment. She was glad she wasn’t in the school anymore because she couldn’t hold her voice back if she had to.

“God, this feels so good,” Harry said, smiling down at her.

“Yeah,” she moaned. While playing with herself in the bathroom, being fingered in the closet, and eaten out in the woods had all felt really good, they paled in comparison to what Harry was doing to her body now. It was awash in pleasure, every nerve ending singing.

“Let’s try this,” he said, pressing his body against hers, his arm slipping around her neck. In a move that startled a gasp from her, he rolled them until she was on top of him. She giggled, pushing up so that she was straddling his hips, his penis still buried inside of her.

“A little warning would have been nice,” she said, smiling down at him.

“Sorry,” he said, with a grin that said he wasn’t sorry.

She moved up and down on his rigid penis, trying different things to see what felt best. She found she kind of like being on top, liked being able to set the pace. More than that, she liked being in the driver seat. Harry was their little group’s leader- due largely in part to his brush with Voldemort- but not now. She was the one in control and it kind of gave her a thrill.

Noticing Harry was staring at her, she said, “What are you looking at?”

“Just enjoying the view,” he said, grinning like a kid in a candy store.

Blushing, she had to smile.

Being on top did have one drawback; it was hard on the knees. She found that rolling her hips back and forth instead of lifting up and settling down not only helped but felt exquisite. Her tender bud rubbed deliciously against Harry’s lower abdomen, sending double the shivers of pleasure through her body.

“Oh, God,” she cried, her cry awakening an orgasm deep inside of her. As it stirred to life, her hips lost all grace, jerking spastically. More cries of ecstasy escaped her as her climax came roaring to life. With one more roll of her hips, she came, stiffening atop Harry. As her body went crazy, she forgot all about Harry.

At least, until she heard him grunt, felt his hands on her waist as he lifted her off of him. He slid from her so fast that she cried out as a shock wave of pleasure worked her still very sensitive vagina. She was about to ask him what he was doing, when she saw hot ribbons of semen spurting from his jerking erection. Like a gentleman, he hadn’t wanted to come inside of her.

Probably a good thing- she’d started getting her periods a few months ago.

“Holy cow,” he said, panting. He met her eyes and started laughing. She joined him, then stretched out beside him. Still laughing, she snuggled up to him, put her head on his shoulder.

“That was unbelievable,” she said, listening to his heartbeat slowing in his chest.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

—————————-

“What the-”

Hermione gasped at the sound of a voice behind her. Thinking they had been busted by one of the professors, she scrambled to her feet. Her heart raced both in her breast and in her temples, and she got this roiling, sick feeling in her gut. She’d just been caught naked with a boy in the Forbidden Forest.

She found Ron standing atop a hill a few yards away, his eyes wide in shock. A surge of relief worked through her as she realized she wasn’t in trouble. Then she remembered she was naked, hadn’t gotten dressed after she and Harry had sex. In her panic, she had sprung to her feet and given Ron an eye full.

Great, now both of my best friends have seen me naked, she thought, grabbing Harry’s cloak and wrapping it around her naked body. She glanced at Ron, then blushed at his slack jaw look of surprise.

“What are you doing here, Ron,” she asked, her words sharper than she meant them to be. Softening her tone, she asked, “How did you find us?”

His voice was a little husky when he said, “I saw you two making a beeline for the woods from herbology. I was worried, so I followed you.”

“You were worried?” she asked, oddly touched.

He nodded, then grinned sheepishly, “I really didn’t think it through, though. Made it to the woods and realized I had no clue how to find you.”

Hermione laughed, “Then how did you find us?”

Harry had her cloak wrapped around him, was looking for his pants. Ron looked at him, then at her. A weird look came across his face, but was gone before she could read it.

“I ran into Firenze, the centaur. He said you two needed help, that you were in heat, but a sick sort of heat. Does that make any sense to you?”

She blushed when she realized it meant the Professor was aware of their predicament. Maybe he had an animal’s keen sense of smell, could smell the lust on them. She hoped that was it, and he hadn’t seen them in action.

“It makes perfect sense,” Harry said, nodding.

“We’ve been cursed, Ron,” Hermione said, then, “I cursed us, actually. That is a long story, and we don’t have time. This curse, it makes us painfully… aroused.”

“Aroused?” he parroted, his eyes widening.

Harry managed a laugh, “You have no idea how uncomfortable- downright painful- it can be.”

“It comes in cycles,” Hermione said, then went on in a hurry, “The only way to make the pain go away is… “

“I think I get it,” Ron said, holding up his hand to silence her. Again, that look ghosted his face, the one she caught before. Like then, it didn’t linger long enough for her to figure it out. He almost seemed upset, but trying not to be. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Blushing, she said, “When we realized it wasn’t stopping, we decided we needed a place to hide.”

“Which is why we are here,” Harry said, sheepishly, “Instead of back at Hogwarts like we need to be.”

“What’s at Hogwarts?” Ron asked, looking at him.

“The book I got the curse from,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, then perked up, “Then I’ll go get it. Where is it?”

“My dorm, on the dresser by my bed.”

“Oh,” he said, laughing, “That could be a problem.”

“Not really,” she said, nodding at Harry’s cloak which had made Ron’s shoulder invisible, “You have Harry’s cloak and I can give you the password to get past the door.”

“You want me to sneak into the girl’s dorms?” He asked, dubious.

“I know it is a lot to ask, but we are desperate,” she said, feeling hot tears well in her eyes, “Please, Ron.”

“Yeah, alright,” he said, shaking his head and laughing, “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” she said, gave him a fierce hug, “You have no idea how much this means to me, Ron. To us.”

“I better go, then,” he said, smiling at her.

“Okay,” she said, letting him go, “and Ron?”

“Yeah?” He asked, looking at her expectantly.

“Hurry.”

——————————–

Taking a minute to catch his breath after the mad dash back to the school, Ron stood in front of the door to the girl’s dorm. A door wasn’t really accurate; it was a giant moving painting. The woman it depicted seemed to be staring right at him even though he still wore the cloak of invisibility, her attention making his already bad nerves worse.

When he wasn’t breathing so raggedly, he summoned his courage and stepped up to the door. The woman lowered her eyes to him, said, “Yes?”

He stammered the password Hermione had given him, his voice little more than a murmur.

“Speak up, child. I haven’t all day.”

Swallowing hard, he said it again, clearly this time.

“Interesting,” the painting said, the woman leaning closer to look at him, “a boy with the password. How unusual? What is your business in the girl’s dorm?”

“My friends need my help. There is a book that can help but it is inside.”

“Interesting,” the woman said, clearly not believing him.

“Please,” he begged, his emotions roiling up, “I need that book. You have to let me in.”

“No, child. I don’t HAVE to let you in,” the painting said, “The girl’s dorm is off limits for boys.”

Chest fallen, he wanted to scream at the door. He was so close yet light years away from being able to help his friends.

“I sense great distress in you, boy,” the painting said, creaking open, “you have three minutes. Any more and I report you to the prefect.”

“Thank you,” he said, rushing through the door, “Thank you so much.”

Inside, it took him a second to get his bearings as he remembered where Hermione had told him her bed was. Recognizing some of the landmarks she had described, he located it. He almost collided with a girl in just her bra and panties walking by with a towel over her arm, but swerved to miss her at the last minute. He couldn’t help himself, had to turn and watch her disappear into what he guessed were the showers.

Blushing, he shook his head to clear the sway of her hips and the uptick of her buttocks as she walked from his mind. He went quickly to Hermione’s bed, found the book right where she said it would be.

“Wizardly Pranks,” he read under his breath. What was a curse like the one Hermione and Harry had doing in a book of pranks? He hoped they were right about this. This book seemed to be the only idea they had.

Turning to leave, he spotted Luna Lovegood in one corner of the dorm. The beautiful blond girl was just undressing, removing her school uniform. Her blazer and blouse were on the bed, and she was unzipping her skirt.

Unable to resist, he watched her shimmy out of the skirt and lay it on the bed. Now in just bra, panties and knee socks, she looked incredibly stunning. Ron swallowed hard, told himself to get out of here before he got caught. Instead, he didn’t move, waited to see what would happen next.

Luna glanced around, saw she was alone- well, save for Ron but he was invisible behind Harry’s cloak. She unfastened her bra, slipped out of it. Only eleven, her breasts were just beginning to grow, little more than puffy nipples. Still, Ron couldn’t take his eyes off them. Then the blonde hooked her fingers in her panties, raked them down her long legs and off. Swallowing hard, he looked at the pale, soft folds of her girlhood.

She was truly breathtaking, gloriously revealed to him.

Which made him think about Hermione naked in the woods, her shapely legs and flat belly, her upswept breasts with their small nipples. She was every bit as stunning as Luna, maybe even more so. Or maybe he was biased.

She was counting on him, needed his help, and he was eyeballing another girl. Shaming himself, he looked away from the blonde splendor that was Luna Lovegood.

He moved toward the door, walking slowly. It didn’t stop the floors from creaking under his feet.

“Hello?” Luna said, looking around suddenly. Cringing, Ron looked back at her, saw she was practically looking right at him, “Is someone there?”

Rather than get dressed or, at least, cover herself, she walked boldly toward where Ron stood concealed. She stopped only a few feet away, hands defiantly on her hips. Her blue eyes seemed to burn right into him.

“Is anyone here?” She asked, spinning in a circle. He held his breath, hoping she’d be satisfied that she was alone and let him leave in peace.

“Luna,” another girl said, walking out of the shower. She laughed and shook her head, “Why are you naked, again?”

“I thought I heard someone,” she said, still looking around.

“Sweetie, there is no one here but you and me. And I’m tired of looking at your naked rump. Put some clothes on.”

Luna finally shrugged and went back to her bed. Ron let a sigh of relief slip silently out passed his lips, then tiptoed to the door. Easing it open, he slipped out, then closed it as quietly as he could.

“Ah, there really was a book,” the door said as it swung closed.

“Of course, there is a book,” he said, offended, “I not a perv.”

Well, maybe just a little bit of a perv, he thought, remembering how he’d stared at poor Luna’s naked body.

“Oh, I get boys sneaking in all the time. A little older than you, of course. They all know I love chocolate frogs. Keep that in mind, if you ever want to visit, again.”

Frowning, he said, “Okay.”

“Run along now, boy,” the door said, laughing, “Time is wasting.”

——————————-

“God, I hope Ron hurries up,” Harry said, grimacing.

“Me, too,” Hermoine said.

It had been twenty minutes since the heat came back, twenty minutes of painful discomfort. She was trying not to move, any little movement sending shivers through her very sensitive body. Her nipples ached dully, and she was making a puddle on the ground, she was so wet.

As if his name summoned him, the boy came crashing through the brush with the book in his hand. It was a huge relief to see him and Hermione wanted to cry. Instead, she blinked the tears away and smiled at him.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” she said.

“Sore everything,” Harry muttered, making her snort in surprise.

‘Here,” Ron said, holding out the book.

“You better do it,” she said, grimacing at the thought of the movement it would take to look through the book.

He saw the grimace and somehow seemed to understand, said, “Is it that bad?”

“I hope you never know,” she said, with a sour laugh, “Sit beside me, so we can look at the book together.”

He did so, opened the book on his lap so they could both see it. Flipping pages, he quickly found the pink sock curse Hermione had meant to pull on Harry. He read the description and it didn’t sound like what Harry and Hermione had described. It wasn’t the source of their discomfort. On a whim, he flipped backward a few pages but didn’t find anything on those pages. Ready to give up, he decided to flip forward a few pages.

“There,” Hermione said, sitting up straight when she spotted something. She moaned as her blouse brushed against her poor, tortured nipples. Inhaling sharply, she said, “That page. I recognize the spell.”

“Oh,” he said, reading the title out loud, “The Forbidden Lust.”

“The page must have turned on me,” she said, grinning sheepishly, “I was in such a hurry to finish the curse before the girls got back from showering I missed the page turning.”

“What does it say about breaking the curse,” Harry asked.

Ron read the page, his heart sinking when line by line he got closer to the bottom of the page and he couldn’t find any mention of breaking the curse. He learned it was designed as a punishment for an unfaithful lover, placed on the cheating parties. It was built to increase in intensity until it left the cursed unable to satisfy the frantic desire. The torment of the curse really began then, as there was no relief. The page mentioned people going crazy from it.

The last sentence of the page finally mentioned a way to break the curse. Frowning, he read it aloud, “Only a person of genuine feeling can end the curse by putting themselves between the cursed.”

“Is that all it says?” Harry asked, blinking.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, chest fallen, “What does that even mean?”

“A person of genuine feeling,” Harry said, weighing the statement in his mind, “Someone in love with one of the cursed, maybe?”

“Could be,” Hermione said, then sighed, “Do we know anyone who fits that description?”

Ron made a startled noise, but quickly said, “What about the second part? What does it mean by ‘put themselves between the cursed’?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, scratching his head.

“Do you think,” Hermione said, reading the sentence again, “do you think it means someone who loves one of us has to… you know, with us? Is that what it means by putting themselves between the cursed?”

“It could be,” Harry said, shrugging.

“I guess it is kind of pointless,” she said, sighing, “we don’t have a ‘person of genuine feeling’ anyway.”

Swallowing hard, Ron said, “Don’t give up. Let’s just figure out what it means and worry about the rest later.”

“It is worded kind of weird, isn’t it?” Harry asked, frowning, “if just having someone sleep with one us would break the curse, wouldn’t it just say that?”

“You think it means something else?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know. I just think it is more complicated than it seems.”

“I hope you are wrong,” she said.

“Yeah, me, too.”

Ron took a deep breath and said, “Hermione, I have to tell you something, have been meaning to tell you for awhile now. I’ve been putting it off because I was afraid.”

“Tell me what?” she asked, curious. The poor boy could barely look at her. The nervousness was evident in a tremor in his voice. Was he about to…

“I like you, Hermione,” he said, suddenly, “More than just a friend.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised and pleased. She loved both Harry and Ron as friends, but there was something about the red hair boy she had first met on the train to Hogwarts.

“I’ve liked you for some time,” he said, looking relieved now that he had said it, yet also vulnerable. He’d put himself out there and was waiting to see if she’d knock his heart to the dirt. He was tense but his eyes were hopeful, and she felt a burst of warmth for the boy.

“This really isn’t how I intended to tell you, but…” he said, grinning sheepishly.

“I’m glad you did,” she said, smiling fondly at him. Then she thought about him walking up on Harry and she and her hand flew to her mouth, “Oh, Ron. I’m so sorry you had to see Harry and I. How horrible.”

He looked away and shrugged.

“I didn’t know, Ron,” Harry said.

“It is fine. You were just doing what you had to do.”

“That is right,” Harry said, sighing, “I still feel horrible, though.”

“I appreciate that,” Ron said, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Ron,” Hermione said, a little surprised by the very real affection in her voice, “I like you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, taking his hand.

“A person of genuine feeling,” Harry said, suddenly.

Ron nodded, “I guess that’s me.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, then blushed when she realized what that meant. She couldn’t look at him.

“So, if we can figure out the second part…” he said, his voice shaking, “we can break the curse.”

“Well, this just got awkward,” Harry said, laughing nervously.

“Oh, yeah,” Ron agreed.

Hermione only nodded. She couldn’t think of any interpretation of the sentence that didn’t include her sleeping with Ron. While not exactly a prude, the thought of sleeping with two different boys on the same day- the day she lost her virginity, no less- seemed kind of… Slutty. She didn’t think of herself like that, wouldn’t even have considered it if things weren’t so dire.

“Any thoughts on the second part?” Harry asked.

“I think you are right about it not being as simple as Hermione and I…” he said, trailing off.

“Yeah, that,” Harry said.

“It says put themselves between…” Ron said, wincing at his own train of thought, “it sounds like you two have to… then I have to… What, takeover? Join in?”

What he had said felt right to her, but it made Hermione cringe. She’d have to sleep with Harry again, then let Ron join in. She’d read about threesomes in her book on sex, never expected to find herself in one.

“Do you really think that is what it means?” Harry asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“I do,” Hermione said, finally looking at Ron. Tears were in her eyes, when she said, “I think it is the only way.”

“Hey, don’t cry,” he said, putting his arm around her, “We’ll get through this.”

“Maybe I’m being girly,” she said, laughing, “but this isn’t at all how I imagined my first time would be.”

“I bet,” he said, tenderly.

“You shouldn’t have to see this,” she said, feeling miserable. He had feelings for her and was going to have to watch her sleep with his best friend. How horrible would that be?

“It sucks,” he admitted, looking down at his hands, “I won’t lie about that.”

“If there were any other way…” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“I know,” he said, sadly.

She turned his face to hers, then kissed him. While kissing Harry had been nice, this was somehow different. It made her tingle all over, made her heart race in her breast. She didn’t want it to end but had to stop or pass out from lack of oxygen to her brain.

“Wow,” Ron husked. He had a big shit eating grin on his face.

She had to smile back at him, “Yeah.”

“Um…” Harry said, drawing their attentions, “Not to break up the touching moment, but can we get back to the problem at hand.”

“Sure,” Ron said, grinning sheepishly.

“How exactly do we do this?”

“I have an idea,” Hermione said, blushing when both boys looked at her in surprise, “I read about it in a book once.”

“Really,” Harry asked, amused by her embarrassment, “Hermione Granger, you are just full of surprises.”

“What do we have to do?” Ron asked.

————————

Ron felt a little sick as he began removing his clothing, his gut clenching anxiously. His hands were shaking so bad that he was having problems with his uniform. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. Hell, he couldn’t believe he’d told Hermione about his feelings for her. Even more, he couldn’t believe she liked him, too.

Glancing to his side, he saw something that didn’t do anything for his stomach. Hermione was on her hands and knees, Harry behind her. He was slipping his saliva slick fingers in and out of her puckered anus, supposedly to stretch her out so it wouldn’t hurt so much when he put himself inside of her. Seeing him touching her like that sent a surge of anger and jealousy through him.

Taking a few deep breaths, he reminded himself it had to be done this way if they wanted to break the curse. While his head understood it was necessary, his heart ached at the sight.

“I think I’m ready,” Hermione moaned, looking over her shoulder at Harry, “Just be gentle.”

Ron had to walk away, couldn’t watch as Harry moved closer to Hermione, pushing his erection against her anus. He heard her draw a sharp breath, glanced over his shoulder to see his best friend ease deep into the girl he cared about.

“Wow, that is big,” Hermione gasped. He couldn’t help it, looked at them. He saw Harry with his hands on her hips, thrusting into her. Each time he buried himself in her ass, she’d moan and bite her lip. The rictus of pleasure on her face was painful to see, as it made him admit she liked what Harry was doing to her. Necessary or not, she was enjoying herself.

Tuning them out, he finished undressing, feeling awkward being naked in the woods and in front of his best friends. He felt eyes on his body, a gaze so hot it felt like a caress. Shivering, he turned to find Hermione looking at him. She was blushing, but her eyes were intent on him. Her smile did wonders for his confidence.

“Come here,” she said, her voice thick and funny.

Hesitantly, he went to her. She took his hand as he sank to his knees in front of her, got to her own knees so she could hug him. It was kind of an awkward hug, her body jerking every time Harry moved inside of her. Still, it was kind of nice. It was his first time touching a naked girl. Her skin was soft and warm, smooth against his own. He liked the way her small breasts compressed against his chest. She kissed him, let his tongue into her mouth. It was an intense kiss, took his breath.

“Ron,” she said, tenderly, touching his cheek, “when we get through this, I promise I’ll make it up to you. Some how, some way.”

He nodded, a knot in his throat.

Hesitantly, she reached down and curled her fingers around his penis. He gasped, looking down at her hand on his boyhood. He stiffened in her hand as she pumped up and down the length of him. A faint frown tugged at her lips as she continued to stroke his now hard erection and he almost panicked, thinking she didn’t like it.

“What’s wrong,” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, with a sheepish grin, “I was hoping this would be enough to break the curse.”

She stopped stroking him, lowered her mouth to his jerking erection, instead. He wasn’t expecting it, gasped as her wet mouth took him in. Her tongue teased the underside of his crown, making his hips jerk. She moaned as Harry continued to bury himself in her ass, the sound muffled by Ron’s penis in her mouth.

Sighing, she pulled back.

“No?”

“Lie back,” she said, putting a hand on his chest and gently pushing him down.

In a shuffle that would have been kind of funny if the situation had been different, Harry and Hermione moved forward until she straddled Ron’s hips and Harry his thighs. With another awkwardly graceful move, she lowered onto Ron’s erection. He gasped as her hot, slick core grasped him, drew him deep inside. Hermione’s eyes widened as both boys were inside of her and she was pinned between them.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. She looked back at Harry, then down at Ron, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Ron groaned as she rolled her hips back and forth, her back arching as both penises moved inside of her. He pushed his hips up, burying himself inside of her. The moans that spilled from her lips, the slack-jawed, eyes glazed look on her face said she was enjoying the feeling. Harry had his hands on her hips, pulling her back into his thrusts and Ron fell into an awkward rhythm with him. Those moans became wordless animal sounds of pleasure.

“This feels so good,” she sighed, biting her lip.

Ron reached up to cup her breasts, fascinated by the way they jiggled. Hermione looked down at him, groaned as his palms drug deliciously across her tender nipples.

Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she gasped in surprise.

“Harry,” Hermione said, looking over her shoulder. He had pulled out and was grinning at her. Her eyes widened further when something dawned on her.

“What?” Ron asked, finding it hard to concentrate with Hermione’s beautiful body squeezing him.

“The heat, the pain…,” Harry said, laughing excitedly, “gone. It worked!”

“Yeah?,” Ron asked, meeting Hermione’s eyes.

Her eyes teared up and she nodded, laughing happily. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, then said, “As soon as he stopped… Well, the pain went away, when he stopped. I think when he did, it passed the curse to you, thereby breaking it. Does that make sense?”

Laughing, Ron said, “I don’t care, as long as it worked.”

In an awkward moment, Ron realized he was still buried inside of her Hermione. He really didn’t want to, but he figured he should probably pull out too. Then again, she was on top of him, was the one who’d have to move. She didn’t seem in any hurry to do so, which kind of excited him, kept him rock hard inside of her.

Harry looked at them a moment, then grinned. He gathered his clothes into his arms, said, “I’ll give you two some space.”

Hermione gave him a warm smile and nodded. Something had passed between them, but it was lost on him. Frowning, Ron watched as he walked away. When he looked back at Hermione, he saw a curious smile on her face. He couldn’t quite read it but it made his heart skip a beat.

“My hero,” she said, kissing him, again.

He said, “The curse is broken, so…”

“You know, I HAD to sleep with Harry,” she said, her eyes intent on his, “You understand that, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, I don’t HAVE to sleep with you,” she said, then grinned, “I just want to.”

Swallowing hard, he asked, “You do?”

“If you want to see a silver lining to this whole mess,” she said, touching his face, “I’ve found I like sex. So, if you want to…”

“Well,” he said, grinning, “we might as well. We are already naked, after all.”

She laughed, then kissed him. He gasped when her hips started rocking back and forth, grinding her body against his. Hermione moved up and down, her body like a pneumatic pump. She looked so sexy, her lithe young body flexing and twisting erotically. Her small breasts bounced each time their bodies came together. He found it mesmerizing, had to reach up and cup them. She groaned as her nipples drew across the palm of his hands. Her back arched and pushed them into his hand.

Not satisfied, his hands wanted to know more of her, explored with a mind of their own. Her skin was so smooth and warm, her body firm or soft in all the right places. He couldn’t get enough of her.

He wasn’t alone, her hands testing the resilience of his muscles, her touch sending shivers through his body.

“Ron,” she moaned, leaning down to kiss him. It was a tender kiss, lingered a while. He felt her affection for him in that kiss, and it made him feel weird inside.

When the kiss finally broke, he noticed a change in her movement’s. Gone was the graceful glide of her body, her hips jerking spastically. Her stomach muscles clenched and unclenched, pushing sharp sounds of enjoyment from her parted lips. She grabbed his hands, squeezed them almost painfully. He sensed something was happening, even if he didn’t know what.

Then she stiffened atop him, her whole body locking up. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt her vagina flutter around him, then widened further as her body shook with her orgasm. His older brothers had told him what it looked like when a girl came, and he recognized that Hermione was climaxing.

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, collapsing on top of him. She hugged him, kissed him deeply. With her arm around his neck, she used the trick Harry had pulled on her, rolling Ron on top of her. The move sent aftershocks of pleasure from her still very sensitive girlhood and she moaned into his mouth.

Looking down at her, he smiled, “You came.”

“Came?”

“Had an orgasm,” he said.

She smiled warmly at him, “Thanks to you.”

Feeling curiously proud, he started thrusting in and out of her, slowly. His older brothers had told him a lot of things he wasn’t really old enough to know but was glad they had now. He knew she would be very sensitive after orgasming, that he’d have to be gentle until she was ready for him again.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, reaching up to caress his shoulders, “So good.”

Smiling, he let his pace gradually build, his thrusts coming faster and sinking deeper into her hot, wet core. She drew him, sucked at him greedily. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before, so incredible he never wanted to stop.

His body had other plans, though. It must have felt too good because he felt his own orgasm stirring to life. He tried to focus on his thrusts, no easy task since his body had lost its rhythm. Grunting, he pushed on toward his own release. Then he heard Hermione’s breathing grow shallow, each exhalation a sharp sound of ecstasy. She was close to coming, again, he realized. Wanting to let her have another orgasm, he tried to control his own, tried to make sure she reached her climax.

Then it was out of his hands, his body shaking as he came. He managed to pull out at the last minute, shooting his load onto the cloak between her thighs rather than inside of her. In his fuzzy, orgasm clouded mind, he noticed Hermione’s arched body collapsing in a shuddering mess. He smiled.

She had her second orgasm, after all.

Drained of energy, he stretched out beside her on the cloak. She moved against him, her body molding to his side, her leg cast across his thighs. Resting her head on his shoulder, she said, “You are pretty good at that. How is that?”

“The twins are full of advice,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and tracing lazy circles on her skin, “Some good, some not so good.”

“Ah,” she said, laughing.

—————————————————————————-

“Oh, there you two are,” Harry said, when Hermione and Ron strolled up hand in hand. He smiled at that, thinking how funny it was to see them finally admit feelings for each other. There had been something there for a while, a tension between them. All it took was a kinky curse to get them to admit it.

“Harry,” Hermione said, blushing at the smile on his face.

“My bum was going to sleep, sitting here,” he said, standing up and brushing the leaves from his pants.

“Sorry about that,” Ron said, grinning sheepishly.

Hermione released his hand, went to Harry. She gave him a fierce hug, kissed his cheek and whispered, “Thank you for giving us a minute.”

“You’re welcome.”

She released him, went back to Ron. For a moment, they stood in an awkward silence, a lot of things needing to be said but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, Hermione said, “Is it going to be weird now? Because of what we’ve done? Can it be like it was before?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, knowing it wasn’t the answer she wanted to here.

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded. Hugging Ron tighter, she said, “I was afraid this might happen. I think we crossed a line, one that we can’t get back from.”

“I think we might still be friends,” Harry said, then sighed heavily, “but this will always be between us.”

“Not necessarily,” a voice boomed from behind them

Gasping in surprise, they turned to see Albus Dumbledore walking toward them. The headmaster regarded the ratty looking trio and shook his head.

“Headmaster,” Ron said, shifting nervously, “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, young Weasley,” he said, giving the redheaded boy a stern stare, then, “but Professor Firenze has already filled me in on your situation.”

Finally, he managed a smile, said, “Many of people have succumbed to the Forbidden Lust curse, been driven mad by it. Many wise wizards have failed to do what you children did, to solve the curse. You three are either very clever or very lucky. You could argue for both.”

“It was Ron who saved us,” Harry said.

“Was it now,” the headmaster said, turning to the boy, “The one of genuine feelings, yes. Your love for Ms. Granger was the key to unraveling the curse. I think your feelings are strong enough to survive my interference.”

“Interference?” Ron asked, frowning.

“We’ll get to that in a few minutes, but we have a few things to cover first,” he said, then turned to Hermione, “Ms. Granger, you are one of the brightest young wizards I’ve ever had the fortune of having at Hogwarts. Which is why I’m a little surprised by your behavior. Borrowing books from the restricted section of the library is forbidden. There are many books there best left to gather dust.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, lowering her head, properly chastised.

“It’s not her fault,” Ron said, grinning sheepishly, “I think we are a bad influence on her.”

“This is probably true,” the headmaster said, stroking his beard, “I hear from a certain painting that you were in the girl’s dormitory today.”

Blushing, he stammered, “I ha-had to get the book.”

“I figured as much. The password has been changed, and the woman in the painting punished for letting you in the first place. Lucky for all of you, she has become lax in her duties, or I might have found you all on much different terms.”

“Are we in trouble, sir?” Harry asked, fearing what their punishment would be.

“By rights, you should be punished for the rules you’ve broken,” he said, then sighed, “but that would run contrary to the best course of action.”

“Course of action?” Harry parroted, frowning.

“Childhood is such a fragile thing, Harry,” he said, his eyes full of compassion when he met Harry’s, “You of all people should know. Losing your parents, becoming the target of Lord Voldemort. All stigmas on your innocence. I won’t let this be another.”

With that, his wand appeared and he uttered a spell that even Hermione didn’t recognize. The world spun, then went gray around them…

————————

Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find herself in the infirmary. Sitting up, she spotted Ron and Harry, as well. The boys were sitting on the same bed, appeared to be playing wizard’s chess.

Looking around, she wondered what sort of mischief had landed them here. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember anything. It was like the memory simply didn’t exist anymore, which was more than a little alarming.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, tried to stand, which is when she noticed how sore she was in her lower back and thighs, even down there. Her girlhood ached dully and moving only exacerbated the problem.

What a curious list of symptoms, she thought, walking gingerly over to the boys. They saw her coming, smiled. She managed a weak one for them, said, “What happened?”

“Nurse said something about a memory spell gone wrong,” Harry said.

“Yeah, we just woke up here with no memory of yesterday. It is Wednesday, by the way.”

“Wednesday?” she parroted, incredulously.

“Kind of creepy, isn’t it,” Ron said, grinning sympathetically at her. She felt a curious warmth for the boy but couldn’t say why. Something about his smile tickled at her brain but she couldn’t get it to surface. Still, she was a little surprised by her reaction . Sure, he had a sweet, boyish smile, but it had never affected her so before. Maybe she’d just never noticed it before.

She smiled back, said, “Yeah. Who knows what we could have done yesterday, right?”

One thought on “Harry Potter and the Forbidden Love Curse(g/b g/b/b)

  1. It’s the best of these I’ve ever read. I’m not happy with people putting Harry and Hermione together but it is a nice story. I look forward to more of your work if you keep this going but I’d ask you to keep this as a stand alone but that’s me.

    I am very hopeful to see some lesbian stories out of this as well. You put the idea of that happening in this story already for sure

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