Harry wiped the sweat from his face with a towel and waited on Angelina to finish stowing her gear. He had been dreading this conversation all day. Everyone else was in the showers, so now was a good time to approach her. She saw him waiting and shook her head, seemingly in no hurry to engage him.
He watched as she disrobed and stuffed her clothes in her locker. Everything came off, including bra and knickers. It didn't matter, he supposed, since the whole team belonged to the Pride, but still he found her brazenness surprising. He had never seen any of the girls walk around naked in the locker room.
She turned and strode toward him, aware that his eyes were raking over her. "I figure a little nudity doesn't matter since we're all part of the Pride now."
"Er, yeah, I guess not," he said, finding it difficult to concentrate with her body on display. The cool of the room had hardened her nipples, inviting his attention.
She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "You can indulge yourself later. Right now, you need to convince me."
He sighed and pulled his jersey over his head, then tossed it in his locker. "I know she might not seem like a natural fit. She might be appalled. But I can't hide this from her."
"You don't think she'd freak out?"
"She might, but you have to understand—she's my best friend. She stands by me when everyone else backs away. Especially this year. She's probably contemplating ways to save my life even as we speak. I won't betray her by lying to her. I have to tell her."
Angelina sighed at his sincerity. "Harry, I understand. I really do. We've got all friends who aren't in the Pride. But do you honestly think she's right for it? To be blunt, she seems like exactly the kind of person who would disapprove. I don't want drama. It's a place for friends who want to fuck each other in secret, no strings attached. Does that sound like Granger?"
"No. I know she probably wouldn't do it. But I can't keep this from her, Angelina. It would kill me. If I have to choose between that room and Hermione, Hermione wins every time."
"Fuck," she muttered. "And I suppose you'll give me the exact same speech about Ron Weasley next."
"No. He and I aren't seeing eye-to-eye lately. We're not even talking."
"And what happens when you become best friends again? You're going to hide it from him?"
"I don't know. Things with Ron aren't good. He's doing his damnedest to hurt me right now, and I don't understand it. We'll just have to cross that bridge later."
Angelina stared at him seriously and crossed her arms over her chest. "Harry, Ron Weasley is getting into the Pride over my dead body. No trial run, no nothing. He's one of the reasons we didn't approach you earlier. We figured you might be a package deal."
"Well, we're not now."
"Good, because we don't want scenes, and that boy is a walking scene-causer. He's got the tact of a drunk troll. Even the twins agree with me. Maybe we can think about it next year, but he'd have to mature by about 30 years, and even then—"
"I'm not asking about Ron," he pleaded. "Just Hermione. Please. I can't lie to her."
"It might make things very weird between you," she warned. "I've seen it happen."
"It'll get weird if I don't tell her too. I've already thought this through."
She shook her head, realizing his mind was made up. "Fine. I'll get you a contract. When she signs, you can tell her, but this is on you."
"Er, about that…I was kind of hoping you would explain everything to her."
"Say what now?"
"I know she's my friend, but—look, can you see me explaining this to anyone, let alone Hermione? Katie shocked my socks off. I'd botch the job, terribly, and she would think I'm crazy. I'll tell her that I joined a club and it's important for her to listen to you, but—trust me, it would be better if you did it. You're a quidditch captain and a prefect and she respects you."
Angelina chuckled and it slowly turned into full-blown laughter. "Not afraid to face down dementors, but can't talk to his best friend about sex."
Harry blushed but didn't deny it.
"Alright, fine. You probably would botch the job. But you owe me."
"Anything."
"Anything is a lot of things. You can start by bending me over in the shower. I feel like I missed out last night."
"Er, okay." He hadn't expected the club's activities to spill over into the locker room, but it certainly wasn't an imposition.
"Out of your clothes, then."
He wrestled out of his sweaty clothes and followed her into the boys' showers. They entered just as McLaggen and the Weasley twins were exiting, towels on their shoulders.
Fred whistled. "Merlin, will you look at that? We should have waited to shower, George."
Angelina patted him on the cheek as she passed. "Harry is trying to convince me to do him a big favor. We don't need an audience, boys."
McLaggen laughed and slapped Harry's shoulder. "Well, what a shame. Good luck, mate. She doesn't mind a little rough-housing, just so you know."
"Thanks."
They entered the huge open showers, and Angelina hung her towel on a hook. She walked straight to a shower head and plunged herself beneath the hot water.
She beckoned him forward with a finger. "Come on, then. Show me how much this means to you."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Later that night, he watched Hermione carefully as they sat in the library together. Although it was a Saturday evening, she insisted they get an hour of tournament preparation in. He wished he knew the best way to approach such an awkward topic. There was no way to predict her reaction.
"Are you alright, Harry? You're staring at me."
He blinked and looked away. He had been lost in thought and probably looking at her very oddly.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
She pushed a parchment toward him. "This is the final list. I think we should start working on it tomorrow. We'll have to find a room to practice in, but if we learn all of those spells, you should be prepared for the first task. I hope."
He glanced at the list. There were dozens of spells. "Thank you for this, Hermione. You don't know how much you mean to me. We'll start tomorrow morning."
"You're very welcome."
He cleared his throat. "There's something else I want to talk to you about. Something important."
"What is it?"
He looked around. The library was deserted, but even so he lowered his voice.
"I—this is going to be awkward, but I want you to trust me, okay? You know I'd never prank you, or…or do something to betray your trust, right?"
"Of course."
"Well, the thing is…" He took a breath and told himself to just get on with it. "A couple days ago, I joined a club. A secret one. I can't even tell you what happens there, because I signed a magical contract."
"A magical contract? What sort of club is this?"
"I can't tell you, and I'm sorry. I—they approached me. And I was hesitant at first, but it turned out to be a good thing. I knew afterwards that I couldn't keep it a secret from you. You're my best friend, and I don't want there to be secrets between us."
She stared at him in bafflement. "You're my best friend too, but how can I know what you're talking about if you can't tell me?"
He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it an even bigger mess. "You'd have to sign a contract too. And it wouldn't obligate you to do anything, just so you know. You'd just know about the club, and I could talk to you about it. But I thought it would be best if someone else explains it first, because—well, I'm scared I would screw everything up."
"Okay…"
"I'm just asking you to trust me on this, alright? Try to keep an open mind. And please, even if—even if you don't like what happens there, please don't think less of me. You know I'm not a bad person."
"You're starting to scare me, Harry."
"And that is why Angelina is going to explain everything to you," he said. "Just remember that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, and this doesn't change anything between us. You're still the most important person in my life."
Hermione blushed. "Alright. I'm very confused, but thank you. I'll listen."
He smiled, relieved to have his part of this mortifying plan out of the way. "Okay, gather your things and come with me. Angelina is waiting for us in the common room."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione stared at the scene below her in total disbelief. Only half an hour ago, she had signed a magical contract. She would never have signed such a thing if Harry hadn't asked her to trust him.
Now she was standing in a darkened alcove that overlooked a secret room, Angelina Johnson at her side. At first, she had thought she was being pranked. But Angelina had explained patiently, and finally just told her that she needed to see it for herself.
And oh, was she seeing it. She stared open-mouthed, her face on fire, as fellow Gryffindors literally had sex right in front of her.
She watched, unable to believe her eyes, as Fred and George Weasley slowly fucked Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. The girls were on their backs right next to each other on a huge couch. The twins pulled out of them in unison, then plunged ever so slowly back in. Lubrication shined on their long cocks every time they pulled out. The girls had their eyes closed, their heads leaning on the back of the couch. Alicia remained silent, but Katie let out a low moan every time her twin thrust into her.
Nearby was a red-headed seventh year girl named Saoirse Manson, though Hermione knew little about her. She was riding a rather plump boy right on the floor. He fondled her breasts as she rose and descended on him. Next to them stood Cormac McLaggen, who was masturbating inches from Manson's face as he watched them have sex.
Her eyes roved further afield, and she saw Dean Thomas reclining on a chaise lounge while a girl with huge, pendulous breasts—Molly something?—slowly caressed his cock with her tongue. His cock was enormous. There was no other word for it. The girl could barely fit his engorged head in her mouth. Even from this distance she could see that it was purple, while the rest of his thick shaft was as black as his skin.
There was more happening in the beds at the corner of the room, but the curtains were pulled and she couldn't tell who occupied them. With its Gryffindor furnishings, the whole place looked like some sort of elegant, antique brothel.
"My God," she whispered.
Angelina smirked beside her. "Told you. You thought I was joking, didn't you?"
"I don't know what I thought."
She couldn't quite believe such a place existed, or that Harry—her Harry—was a newly-minted member. She had always thought of him as too sheltered, too innocent perhaps, to even talk about sex. She had noticed him looking at her breasts, of course, just as she had noticed Ron. It was flattering in a way, but she would never have expected either of them to be capable of…this.
"This is what Harry wanted me to show you. He said he couldn't stand hiding it from you, even though I think this is a mistake."
"Mistake?" she responded faintly. She found it hard to look away from what has happening below her.
"Mistake. I'll be honest, Hermione. You don't seem like the type to be interested in something like this. I may not know you well, but I don't want things to get weird between you and Harry if you disapprove."
Hermione swallowed thickly. Angelina was right about one thing. She didn't know her well at all. No one did when it came to the most private parts of her imagination.
Her mind fled back to her first moment of sexual awakening. She had been 12 when she discovered her father's stash of porn. Knowing it was somehow shameful, she had been too embarrassed to ask about it. But she had read every magazine cover to cover, enthralled by the explicit images and frank articles about sex.
Not long after, she had discovered her mother's hidden novels. They were almost as explicit as her father's collection, but in a different way. The words had excited her so much that she had masturbated for the first time almost without trying. Her first orgasm had come as a total surprise while she absent-mindedly rubbed herself to a lurid scene in a novel: three friends having their way with a woman who most certainly enjoyed every second of it.
When she arrived at Hogwarts, it took her little time to realize that the library housed a collection of erotica similar to her mother's. They were silly stories mostly—absurd scenarios involving towers, maidens, and werewolves—but still she read them in secret, late at night in her bed or in the library when she was alone.
She had always thought of herself as somewhat deviant. She felt like another person while reading her erotic novels. She would envision the scenarios in her mind, and it was always herself that she imagined as the heroine: the irresistible girl who was ravished by virile men, her power over them indomitable.
She masturbated to such fantasies every night. They were her secret shame and secret joy. By her second year, she had grown unsatisfied with exploring herself with her fingers. She would draw her curtains, silence them, and then reach for the hairbrush she kept hidden beneath her pillow. It had become an almost nightly routine in the years since.
Her constant fear was that she would be discovered. That people would know that she was some sort of pervert. That she would be ostracized even worse than she had been in grammar school. And yet here were people—people she knew—actually fucking each other in public.
"How—how is this real?" she asked breathlessly.
Angelina chuckled. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Hermione blinked at her, as if that were the most absurd question ever posed.
"But…"
"But what? It's a bloody boarding school. People are going to have sex. It's like I told you. This is a way for us to do it without any reputations getting harmed."
She stared in both awe and horror as McLaggen groaned and ejaculated directly onto Manson's face. Thick white ropes of cum splashed against her, one after the other, until her face was coated and it spilled down her neck onto her chest. The girl didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, she panted and rode the boy beneath her even harder, rubbing McLaggen's cum all over her breasts.
Hermione was speechless, both at what she was seeing and the fact that she was so aroused that she felt the urge to rub her legs together. How could such a place exist in Hogwarts?
"How—how many people?" she stuttered. "Know about it. This club, I mean."
Angelina watched her with unconcealed amusement. It was always fun when one of the new people had their minds blown. "Total? Almost 40. But not everyone participates. 30 showed up for Harry's introduction a couple nights ago, but there are really more like 20 active members. And by active, I mean active."
"I had no idea something like this existed."
"You and your trio have always been closed off. You never heard any rumors or noticed people disappearing at night?"
"I don't really pay attention to the rumor mill."
"Well, there are rumors about such clubs out there, but they're only rumors. No members can confirm or deny because of the contracts, so no one really knows anything for sure."
"And the Professors? They just…turn a blind eye?" She felt an irrational need to deny the reality of what she was seeing.
"That's exactly what they do. At least we think so. They know sex is good for us, and some were probably members themselves, so they—"
"Wait, they know sex is good for us?" Hermione said, some of her composure returning.
Angelina gave her a strange look. "Yeah, you had the lecture in second year, right? Puberty and mandatory birth control and all that? They know our magic growing makes us a lot randier than muggles."
That explained a lot, she thought. She believed her own libido to be abnormally strong. It was, according to muggle books. But magic apparently changed even their physical development. Pomfrey's lecture had omitted some crucial facts.
"Oh. I thought she was just saying that, er, masturbation wasn't harmful."
"It isn't, but she could hardly tell a bunch of second-years to go get their freak on," Angie answered with a laugh. "Some of the pureblood parents would hit the roof. Not everyone would approve of this. But as long as we're discreet—no harm, no foul."
"Merlin," Hermione breathed.
"You said it. The Professors probably have some idea what we get up to. But they don't go looking in broom closets or old rooms before curfew, and neither do prefects. It's been that way for a long time. Someone carved their initials into that wooden beam down there in 1759."
Hermione pondered all this new information in silence. Her assumptions about sex in the magical world were coming apart at the seams.
She had always associated her desires with shame and fear. The greatest fear was that she would be discovered. That fear also provided her greatest thrill. The thought that her roommates were so close while she indulged her lusts always produced waves of insatiable desire. Parvati, only five feet away, might tear open her bedcurtains and catch her with a hairbrush half-stuffed inside her. The thought terrified her, but also made her so wet she could soak two pairs of knickers.
The only greater thrill was imagining the men in her novels replaced with her classmates, all of them watching as her body was ravished by one after another. The perversity of it, the forbiddenness, made her lower belly ache with desire.
She had vowed to keep her secret fantasies hidden at all costs. If she were the dutiful student, the biggest enforcer of the rules, no one would suspect that she possessed such a depraved mind.
And now…
Now she was staring at what was essentially an orgy. In her school. Among her classmates. Something far more open in its perversity than she thought possible.
"You alright, Hermione? You look like you're about to faint."
Angelina's voice brought her back to reality. How long had she been staring at the scene below? Her heart was racing and it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She was so wet she could feel a drop of moisture running down her inner thigh.
"I…I'm fine," she said, and took a deep breath to regain her composure.
"You look freaked out. We can go now if you want; I didn't mean to scare you. Harry just wanted you to know. Like I said, I think this is crazy, but he says he won't hide it from you."
"No, it's fine. It's just a bit of a shock. I never expected something like this to exist."
Angelina nodded and followed her gaze back to the floor below them. Hermione hadn't taken her eyes off the twins as they plowed in and out of Katie and Alicia. They were moving faster now, their strokes more powerful as they edged toward completion. The girls were leaning toward each other and kissing passionately as the boys penetrated them. The room was filled with low moans of pleasure.
"Jesus," Hermione whispered unconsciously.
"Like what you see then?"
"Yes," came the answer, before it was even considered.
"Yes?" Angelina responded with skepticism. "You're seriously interested in joining us?"
Hermione took another deep breath and exhaled. She needed to think logically about this, and right now she was almost beside herself. The ache between her legs was profound. It felt like she would explode if she merely brushed her clit. She tried to will the feeling away. What was the problem again? Oh, right. Harry. Her reputation. Ostracism. Shame.
"But what will Harry think of me if I do this?"
"You realize Harry is the one who wants you to join, right? And he's already been active here?"
"Right, but would he think less of me? Would I lose him to this place? Or other girls?"
She blushed, and then admitted to something she had never said out loud. "He's all I really have at Hogwarts right now, Angelina. The rest is just books and grades."
"Well, I can't speak to that, but we're all friends here. You'd be accepted. Hell, a lot of people would have fun corrupting you. If you just want to be with Harry, though, it's best that you don't join. We don't admit exclusive couples, even though they form sometimes."
"And Harry has already participated in…that?" she asked, gesturing at the twins but looking at Angie.
Her head swiveled back to them when Katie Bell cried out and wrapped her legs around her twin's torso. George—or was it Fred?—pounded her with abandon.
"He has. He'd be down there right now if you weren't here watching. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Merlin."
Angelina smirked at her captivated gaze. This conversation hadn't played out like she expected. Not at all. She had expected Hermione to be outraged; perhaps to storm out of the room in a huff. Instead she had the same look on her face that Harry got when he tried to surreptitiously ogle someone.
"What are the rules?" she asked weakly.
"Rules? This is not a place with point deductions."
"I mean—what's happening down there—is it just spontaneous, or…?"
"Some people make plans to see each other. Others show up and take their chances. This doesn't happen every night. The only rules are that everything is consensual and you treat everybody well, even if you don't like them. You don't have to lay a hand on anyone you don't want to."
"And no one is ostracized?"
"Not in here. This place is for fun. You can indulge yourself, and no one will ever know. Well, except the other people in the room. Harry would see you with other people, and you would see him with other people. Can you handle that? You'd both make new friends, and maybe it wouldn't feel like the two of you against the world. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
Was it? Hermione wondered. She had latched onto Harry like a life preserver after he saved her from the troll. Ron she had eventually embraced as a friend, but she wouldn't be able to tolerate his rudeness without Harry as a buffer. She would feel totally alone at Hogwarts without him. Would they lose that unspoken intimacy if she joined? Would they lose it anyway if she didn't?
She realized suddenly that she needed Harry to need her. She relished the fact that she was essential to him. Was that selfish of her?
Angelina's voice brought her out of her reverie again. "Do you have any hang-ups? Kinks? Things you want to explore? Do you like girls too?"
"I—I don't know. I'll have to consider everything. I don't think I can give you an answer right now."
Angelina nodded and looked her over. The girl was practically panting, and was unconsciously smoothing her skirt, very close to her crotch. She suspected Hermione would have been rubbing herself raw had she not been there. She almost told her it was okay, and she'd gladly lend a hand, but it wouldn't do to scare her.
"I didn't expect you to. Take all the time you need."