Content Harry Potter Miscellaneous

Harry / Ginny / Hermione ship

Urgh.   What in the name of Magic crawled into my mouth and died?

Wait.   What is this?  

Hmm.   Feels like a body.  

A WARM body.

A warm body without any clothes.

A warm FEMALE body without any clothes.

You'd think I'd find this more interesting, wouldn't you?   After all, it isn't like I've often (ever) had a second body in my bed.   Warm, female, or otherwise.

I suppose I would find this intriguing if my mind didn't feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

What a horrifying thought.   What if the body in my bed with me wasn't warm?   What if it wasn't FEMALE?

Yuck.

I could've done without that mental image, thank you.

I suppose I should try opening an eye to see if I can identify the aforementioned warm, female body.

Heh.   I can't be feeling too bad if I can use the word "aforementioned."

Where was I?

Oh, yeah.   Opening eye.   Here goes.

Red.

I think it was her hair.   I rather hope it wasn't blood.

Of course, with my eyesight, it might well have been a boiled lobster.

Nope, too soft to be a lobster.   Feels like hair.

Red hair, female.   Okay, either Ginny or Susan.

Seeing as how Susan isn't a Gryffindor (and it feels like I'm in my own bed — the aura here feels right), I rather expect that this is Ginny currently curled up in front of me.

Okay, cool.   I can definitely think of worse things than a naked Ginny Weasley in my bed.

WHAT WAS THAT?

Behind me.   Something or someone moved.

Right hand, go check it out.   I know you don't want to leave your very comfortable spot on Ginny's hip, but we probably should discover just what's sneaking up behind us before it gets us.

More warm skin. What's this?   Oh.

OH.

Yes, most definitely female.

Ow.   Mental note: moving the head that quickly is a BAD IDEA.   Okay, this one has brown, bushy hair.   Hermione, probably.

I wonder how I got into bed with a naked Ginny and a naked Hermione.

Not that I'm averse to sharing my bed with the two of them.

I must be getting better.   Didja see me use the word "averse?"

Well, not better, really.   I mean, I still feel awful.   But having to prepare breakfast for the oh-so-wonderful Dursleys, even if suffering from flu and a broken arm, has given me SOME benefits.   Specifically, I can still function even if I feel like a group of dragons has used me as a bludger for a quidditch match.

Where was I?   Oh, yeah.   Two good-looking, naked witches in my bed.

Come to think of it, what am I wearing?

Huh.   Well, so much for thinking the situation was innocent.

Okay, genius, now what?

Well, how'd I get here?

I remember the party.  What was the occasion again?   Oh, yeah.   End of NEWTs.   Didn't Fred and George donate something to the Gryffindor party?

Oh, yes.   Some new Wheeze.   I think they called it "Inebriating Vapors."   That and the bottles of firewhiskey were a dangerous combination.   Gotta remember to mention that to them later.

Right after I rip their spleens out through their respective left nostrils.

After all, it MUST be their fault that I'm in this situation, right?

Wait a second.   I'm in bed with two gorgeous women, and not a one of us has a stitch of clothing on.   Do I really want to blame those two wonderful gentlemen for anything?

HELL NO!

Hmm.   Something else is trying to filter through my memory . . .   Something about a game of Truth or Dare.   Probably a bad idea to do that after the Inebriating Vapors and firewhiskey.

Oh, yeah.   That's the reason we cleared the fifth years and younger out of the common room, wasn't it?   Being Head Boy does have a FEW perks.

Either that or having defeated Wart-Face a month ago means everyone is scared of me.

Well, except Molly.   If she finds out that I'm in a bed with her naked daughter, I don't think she'd stop to consider my rather impressive list of credentials before cutting my heart out with a spoon.   Actually, it probably wouldn't be my heart she'd cut out.

Not that either of the Doctors Granger would be all that chuffed about the scene, either.   And they're dentists.   Lots of drills 'n' things.

Fortunately, I have a few facts going for me.   One, we're all over the age of consent, so if anything were to happen, nobody would be in trouble.   Legal trouble, anyway.   Two, neither of them are currently seeing anyone, so I'm unlikely to have any jealous boyfriends after me if word of this gets out.   Third and last, we get back to the whole "I defeated Lord Badass-Snake-Face-Who's-Now-Pushing-Up-Venomous-Tentaculas."

So, all things being equal, I'm probably not going to get into any kind of trouble for anything that may have led up to the situation.

Not that I remember anything after the third round of magical Truth or Dare.

Well, I guess it's time to get up.   Okay, left arm, I know that pillowing Ginny's head is quite comfortable, but we really do need to get up.   Left leg, get out from under Hermione's leg, too.   Okay, carefully . . .   There.  

Whoa.   I didn't realize that the room could spin like that.   Somehow, I doubt it's the room, though.   Why don't I just sit down here for a moment?   Yes, that's much better.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

That’s better.   The room's not moving anymore.   Let's try standing again, shall we?   Ah, MUCH better.

Glasses, glasses, where are my glasses?   If I were a pair of glasses where would I hide?   Bedside table?   Nope.   Study desk?   Nope.   Wardrobe?

What'd I just step on?   Clothing.   LOTS of clothing.   Some of which are definitely NOT mine.   Hmm.   Wonder which lovely young lady wore the red, lacy ones?   Ah, there're my glasses.

What time is it?   8:28?   Damn, we must've been pretty wiped out for all of us to sleep in like this.

Perhaps putting on a bit of clothing wouldn't be a bad idea.

Much better, now it's time to -

Oh, my.

Seamus.   With Lavender in his bed.   By all appearances, they're wearing about as much as I was when I woke up.   Well, to be honest, it's not like I can say anything.   I mean, with two witches in MY bed, who'm I to comment on him having one in his?

ACK!   I SO did not want to see that.   Ron with COLIN in his bed?   Maybe that's why my memory's so fuzzy.   Trying to blot that image out from last night.

Wonder where Dean and Neville have gotten to?

You know, I should probably brew some hangover cure.   If I'm nice, maybe even some for everyone else.

If I want to survive that, though, I'd better get washed up.   Towel and toiletries, okay.   After a shower, I'll feel much -

Oh, there's Dean.   Alone, unless you want to count the commode he seems to be almost cuddled up with.

Still, wonder where Neville's got to?   Well, with Hermione and Lavender in our room, Parvati has a room to herself.   I wonder . . .   Naw, couldn't be.  

Could it?

This shower should help.   Not too cold.   Yikes!   Not that hot, either.   Ah, that's better.

Anyway, so I should probably brew enough doses for all the sixth and seventh year Gryffindors.   That's what?   Five plus three plus four plus four.   That's . . . uh . . . damn headache.   I bet Hermione could figure this out in about a half second.   Not to mention remembering how to brew the bloody potion in the time it's taken me to do the math.  

Sixteen?   Yeah, that sounds right.

Damn this floor is COLD.   You'd think with magic, we could figure out how to keep from freezing our feet after a shower.

Dean hasn't moved.   He's still breathing, so I know he'll be all right, even if he may or may not want to survive the hangover he probably has after winning the firewhiskey shots contest last night.

Huh.   Seems I'm remembering more and more about what happened.

Doesn't look like anyone else has moved, either.  

Hermione and Ginny do look cute, don't they?   All nice and cuddly soft looking, lying there like that.   Wish I could just take off my robe and snuggle back in there with them.  

Actually, I probably could.

Damn that's tempting.

Naw.   Brewing that hangover cure would probably win more brownie points at this stage.   And accruing brownie points with the two young witches in my bed sounds like a WONDERFUL idea.

Where did I put that Potions book, anyway?   Oh, there it is.   And opened to the right page, even.   Looks like someone had a good idea last night before falling into bed.

Hmm.   Looks easy enough to brew.   Very quick as well.   And it looks like I even have all the ingredients here in the room.  

Thank Merlin for small favors.   Explaining to Snape why I need three ounces of desiccated nettles the day after NEWTs wouldn't be a pretty conversation.   He'd definitely enjoy it WAY too much before gleefully denying my request.   Greasy git.

Okay, a quick bluebell flame, and we can start this thing.   Water, nettles, diced daisy stems . . .   How the hell do I measure out sixteen times one third of a gram of powdered dragon horn?  

Hmm.   Looks like I overlooked a few ingredients.   Well, whaddya know?   A drop of whichever alcoholic beverage did the damage.   Guess that old muggle saying about the hair of the dog has some validity after all.   Now I only have to find some of the firewhiskey.

Oh, there's a bottle over by Ron's bed.   Now just to get it without seeing anything that might scar me for life.

Ack.   I did NOT want to hear that.   I wonder if Colin's roommates know he talks in his sleep.   Urgh.   I didn't realize that Ron does, too.

Ah, good.   There's more than enough in the bottle.   Add sixteen drops.   There.   Simmer for ten minutes.

Oh, good.   Now I remember more about last night.   Hermione opened that potions book before crawling into bed with me and Ginny.   No clothing at the time, but it was because we were all . . . um, warm.   Didn't realize that if you drank enough, you got flushed like that.

Now, I'm not complaining, but why did Hermione and Ginny end up in bed with me?   Oh.   Well, chalk another one up for the benefits of Occlumency.   Dredging up fuzzy memories is a nice side effect.

What was it?   Fourth round of Truth or Dare?   Something like that.   After the point that we'd all agreed to no more Dares, anyway.   It was Meghan who started the round with the question of, "Who do you fancy?"

Most of the answers weren't surprising.   Dean's dating Susan, after all.   Seamus and Lavender haven't dated, but it's obvious they've fancied each other.  

Well, I guess they are dating now.   Nope, they still haven't moved.   Still, they're a cute couple.

Where was I?   Oh, yeah.   Who fancies who?   I expected Ron to name Hermione, which would've hurt, incidentally, but when he said "Colin" instead, the spunky little sixth year damn near attacked him right then and there.   Not attacked like with a wand, but . . .   Well, okay, like with his wand.

My sense of humor has to be seriously warped to find that funny.

Ah, that's probably where Neville is.   Parvati DID say she thought he was cute, and he admitted to fancying her.   Good on you, Neville.

The rest of the Ginny's classmates paired up as expected.   That probably accounts for all of their whereabouts.   If they went to bed as blitzed as we did, I somehow doubt more than half of the beds in the sixth year dormitories are being used at the moment.

Then it was my turn to answer Parvati's question.   My answer of both Hermione and Ginny didn't surprise anyone.   Everyone's lack of surprise surprised me.   Did that make sense?   Anyway, the moment would have been mortifying if they both hadn't reciprocated.   Shocked the hell outta me, I can tell you.   Which indirectly led to how I woke up as the meat within a very comfortable sandwich, so to speak.

Of course, going to sleep last night was a lot of fun.   Nothing, um, SIGNFICANT happened as I recall.   Just some serious cuddling, snuggling, and kisses.   Not that I didn't WANT more to occur, truth be told.   Seeing as all three of us were just about passed out drunk, though, it's probably a good thing that nothing more happened.

Ah, the ten minutes is up.   Extinguish the fire and ladle this thing into sixteen doses.

Bottoms up.

Blech.   That tastes awful.   Works, though.   I feel human again.

Now just to wake them up and give them the potion.   Better start with the girls in case they don't want to be caught in my bed.   Steady, Potter, breathe.

Okay, here goes.