Chapter Text
Harry POV
Harry watched Ginny as she laughed, resting a pale hand on Blaise Zabini’s arm. She leaned in to whisper in his ear, the side of her breast pressed against his flexed muscle.
He looked away bitterly. Although it was true their breakup was mutual, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had made a mistake. Just days after the final battle, they finally came together in his old bed in Gryffindor Tower for the first time since their breakup the year before.
He took his time re-memorizing the subtle dips and curves of her body, the strength in her Quidditch-toned thighs wrapped tightly around his head. Yet, when they both finished, he felt an emptiness inside as they panted and stared at the ceiling.
They had both cried. He wasn’t sure why; he only knew the war had broken something inside him, and everything felt wrong.
Ginny cried because she felt that she had left Harry behind during their nine months apart, even though he was the one who left her while hunting Horcruxes. Apparently, Blaise had really been there for her at Hogwarts.
He sensed the resentment she had been trying not to show with those words.
He reluctantly spent the summer going back and forth between the Burrow and Grimmauld’s. Although it took time, they could now sit and talk without the horrible awkwardness that immediately followed the breakup. For the first few weeks, they avoided each other. Then, they acted as if nothing was wrong while sitting across from each other at the table during meals. It wasn’t until Hermione came back from Australia that she pushed him to talk to her.
He thought that as summer progressed and they re-bonded over Quidditch and had some time to heal, they might be able to make it work. She was one of the main reasons he came back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, after all. But based on what he saw in front of him, it was clear that she had moved on. His eyes met Hermione’s, who was sitting on Ginny’s other side, and he wanted to groan at the pity he saw in them.
He gave her a reassuring smile, and she returned it, her eyes searching his face for signs that he was truly okay.
Ron, who was sitting beside him, put an arm around his shoulders. “So, who do you think you’re gonna get, mate?”
Harry looked around the circle of eighth-year students. Hermione, Dean, Ginny, and Blaise sat across from him. Next to Blaise, on his other side, was Malfoy with a disgusted expression as he watched Ginny’s hand rub Blaise’s arm.
On one side of him sat Luna, then Theo Nott, and finally Neville, who looked a bit nervous. On Harry’s other side were Ron, Seamus, Pansy Parkinson, and Lavender, completing the circle.
After the war, those who had not finished their 7th year or who were forced to attend during the Carrows were allowed to return and complete their schooling if they chose to, except for Malfoy, who was court-ordered to be there.
He internally rolled his eyes. If sending Malfoy back to Hogwarts was intended as punishment, then Harry was the one truly being penalized.
Regardless, an unlikely group of people was gathered in a circle on the rug-covered stone of the eighth-year common room, playing a magical version of Seven Minutes in Heaven as if they were thirteen instead of eighteen.
It was Seamus who came up with it, which should have been evidence enough that it was a bad idea. Even so, they all signed the waiver that said they would follow the rules of the game or “suffer the consequences.”
Harry took another shot of Firewhisky and grimaced. “Not sure. I didn’t really think this through.”
Ron downed a shot. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there are more boys than girls. What if we get a bloke?”
It took a second for what he was saying to sink in. But when it did, Ron’s face went pale. “Shit.”
Harry nodded grimly. “Shit is right.” He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “What did Hermione say about you two doing this?”
They officially became a couple after the final battle and have been together ever since. He couldn’t believe Hermione was okay with this.
Ron shrugged. “She said it was up to me. That if I wanted to, then we could.”
Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that Ron was making a mistake. But when Harry glanced at Hermione, she was sipping her drink and twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she listened to Ginny excitedly gesturing about something.
Seamus, who was already tipsy, stood up and clapped loudly. “Alright, you lot. Listen up for the rules.”
He pointed at the three bowls, ominously overflowing with smoke, sitting in a row in the middle of the circle. “All three bowls hold slips of paper. The first bowl contains a description of what you’re required to do once you get in the room. The second bowl has everyone’s names listed twice for…reasons, and the third bowl has the duration of time you have to complete your task. The door to the room,” he waved his hand toward a small room off to the side that was actually a study room, “will not open until the allotted time is up or until you complete your dare. And if you’re not ready to be done after you’ve completed the dare, too bad. Finish up, or everyone will see you in whatever state you’re in.”
Neville’s shaky voice spoke in the silence. “So, if I draw a slip of paper that says one hour, I have to stay in there for a full hour unless I complete the dare in, say, thirty minutes?”
Dean nodded his head. “If you complete your dare before the allotted time is up, the door will open regardless of how long you’ve been in there. However, the timer won’t start counting down until the magic senses that the parameters of the dare are being met. And yes, the parameters are particular to keep you from getting out of completing whatever is on that slip of paper. But if you want to use the full time,” and at this, his eyebrows went up and down, “then you just have to get a little creative.”
Hermione raised her hand as if she were in class, and he couldn’t help but smile a little.
Seamus snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Yes, Hermione.”
She lowered her hand and neatly folded it in her lap.
“What are the consequences if we don’t complete the dare?”
Dean groaned, and Seamus laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. You’ll just be bald for a month.” Seamus looked proud of himself. “And before you say anything, hair growth potion won’t work.”
Suddenly, the room erupted with protests.
“Fucking what?” he heard Malfoy shout.
Harry rolled his eyes. Of course, Malfoy would freak out over his precious hair.
He overheard him mutter to Blaise. “This is what we get for hanging out with the Gryffindorks.”
Blaise snickered, and Ginny slapped his arm playfully.
Harry averted his gaze.
Ron was sweating and looked paler than usual, his skin stark white against his freckles. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Harry smacked him on the back good-naturedly. “Well, just think of it like this. Would you rather fuck Malfoy or be bald for a month?”
“Fuck.”
Harry nodded grimly. “At least that’s the worst that can happen.”
Ron shakily spoke up. “What if I get a bloke? I’m not gay.”
Seamus and Dean laughed. “Just call it an experiment.”
Seamus tried to yell above the noise of everyone speaking at once again. “Alright, alright, settle down. The consequences had to be a bad enough incentive to complete the task because some of them are…what do the muggles call it? Oh yeah, rated X.”
“Seamus!” Hermione yelled and began crawling across the floor to hit him in the head.
“Ouch, Hermione!”
“You idiot,” she yelled again, raising her hand to smack him again.
He grabbed her hand and raised it above her head. “And we have a volunteer to go first!”
She snatched her hand away from him and growled, and with her sentient hair rising, she looked like a hissing kitten.
Harry and Malfoy laughed, then looked at each other with disgust. Why was Malfoy laughing at Hermione anyway? Was he teasing her? Harry laughed too, but that was because he thought Hermione was hilariously cute and a little awkward, and he was allowed because she was his best friend.
Out of a desire to help his girlfriend feel better or because he just wanted to get it over with, Ron raised his hand. “I’ll go first.”
Everyone cheered, and suddenly, Hermione looked at Ron very seriously.
He gulped and reached into the first bowl. He pulled out the strip of paper and unfolded it, reading silently to himself.
“Out loud!” Seamus yelled.
Ron cleared his throat and began to read. “Cunnilingus. Better yet, let’s make it dinner for two, otherwise known as 69.”
There were looks of confusion all around the circle. Even Ron looked confused, which he thought was strange. Was it only a Muggle thing?
Very quietly, Hermione explained. “It’s cunnilingus except in the case of 69, a male or female would lie on their back or side, and their partner would lie facing them, where their head is facing the direction of their lover’s feet, and cunnilingus is performed simultaneously.
Malfoy snorted. “Leave it to Granger to turn sex into a school lesson.”
Harry watched as her eye twitched in annoyance, but she didn’t look at Malfoy.
Ron reached into the second bowl. He opened the second strip of paper and sagged in relief. “Oh, thank Godrich. Lavender.”
Hermione’s face was a picture of horror, and suddenly, Harry realized that she was unaware of his and Ron’s previous conversation about having to screw Malfoy, and that’s where Ron’s relief was coming from, not necessarily from the fact that he chose Lavender specifically.
She blinked away tears and looked down, her face struggling to stay stoic. Ginny grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Hermione offered a grateful smile but then pulled away. Harry could tell she was trying to hide her feelings, but he knew her well. He knew everything about her, and even with her face perfectly composed, he could see the hurt in her eyes.
Harry wanted to smack Ron on the back of his head, but before he could, Ron grabbed his third piece of paper. He shot Lavender a sly look and read the paper. “Fifteen minutes.”
Harry looked at Hermione as she looked at Ron, who took Lavender’s hand and led her into the study room.
The door closed, and they could hear Lavender’s laugh before the silencing charm took effect.
It was awkward and silent for a few moments until Ginny spoke up. “What a tosser.”
He wanted to agree with Ginny, but he was inexplicably upset with her, so he stayed quiet.
Quietly, he listened as Malfoy asked Hermione, “Aren’t you and the weasel together, Granger?”
She was silent for a few moments, and for a second, Harry didn’t think she would respond. Finally, she said, “Not anymore.”
Harry felt his stomach drop, and in a moment of solidarity, he and Ginny stared at each other in horror. At least until Blaise tapped her on the head, and she turned to him and kissed his cheek close to his mouth.
His stomach dropped for a different reason. Trying to ignore his own problems, he focused on Hermione, unsure of what to do for her in this situation. He’d pull her aside in the morning, and they’d walk around the lake and talk it through, just like she’d done for him in the past.
She was staring off into space and wringing her hands in her lap. He wanted to reach out and pull her close, to be near her in case she needed to rest her head on his shoulder, like she often did when she was exhausted or worried. She looked so small and alone, and his heart ached for his best friend, who had never once left his side despite everything he had faced over the years.
Fuck it, he thought, and reached over to snatch her hand, dragging her across the circle and putting her in Ron’s spot. She wrapped an arm around his middle and leaned up to place a kiss on his jaw in thanks.
Fifteen minutes passed much more slowly than Harry thought possible. He fought Voldemort one-on-one for at least fifteen minutes, and it didn’t feel nearly that long. Finally, the door to the study room clicked open, and he heard Lavender’s sigh and giggle, along with Ron’s husky chuckle.
Ron and Lavender looked rumpled and satisfied when they came out, and Harry would do anything to keep Hermione from seeing that. He didn’t need to worry because she was staring at the bowls in the middle of the circle. Before Ron could squeeze in to sit beside her, she quickly crawled back across the circle to her spot.
Ron sat beside him with a sigh, smelling like Lavender’s perfume and sex.
“Gods,” Harry said.
“What’s that?” Ron said, dazed.
Harry sighed. “Nothing, mate.”
Seamus and Dean were clapping and hollering, and finally, Harry had had enough.
“Who’s up next?” he asked, hoping to move this night along.
“Sounds like Harry wants a little 69 himself,” Seamus joked. “Go ahead, Harry.”
Harry sighed again before putting his hand into the first bowl to draw a strip of paper. “Finger or jack off your partner until they pop off.”
“Charming,” Hermione said.
He started sweating. What if he got a dude? He didn’t think he could go through with it, but he really didn’t want to be bald either.
He quickly reached into the second bowl for the second strip. He stared at the name on the paper, not sure how to react. Because at least it wasn’t a guy. But it wasn’t much better.
He looked at Ron guiltily before reading the name off the paper. “Hermione.”
Ron’s jaw dropped, and he heard Hermione gasp, but he couldn’t look at her.
Much more slowly, he reached into the third bowl. “Seven minutes.”
Okay, okay, seven minutes wasn’t that bad. But he honestly didn’t know if he could do this. They did not think of each other as sexual beings. She was his best friend and the most important member of his chosen family, next to Sirius.
He finally looked at her as she stood up, looking at him warily. The last time she looked at him like that, he had yelled at her after she accidentally broke his wand. The guys around the circle were laughing, all except for Ron, who was glaring at his profile if the raised hairs on the back of his neck were any indication.
He followed Hermione into the study room, a place where they had studied together many times, and after tonight, he would never study there again if he had anything to say about it. It suddenly felt like a much more sinister place. And it still smelled like sex. If Hermione’s nose scrunch was any indication, she agreed.
He slowly shut the door, and after a couple of seconds, the laughter stopped, and all he could hear was his breathing, which was much too loud and fast.
Seeing the panic on his face, Hermione took pity on him and sat on the bed after scourgifying it. “We don’t have to do this, Harry.”
He sat beside her, aware of how close they were, which was no different from how they usually sat, but suddenly it meant something entirely different.
“Do you want to be bald, Hermione?”
It was quiet for a few seconds, then she said, “Not particularly.”
They looked at each other and laughed. He was imagining how ridiculous he would look without hair, but honestly, he might be better off being bald, given the state of his hair. Maybe she was thinking the same about herself because suddenly she laughed again, and her shoulders relaxed.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Seven minutes, Harry. We can do this.”
He hesitated but nodded. “Whether it’s seven minutes or two doesn’t matter, Hermione.”
The words remained unspoken. If he touched her like this, their relationship would shift, whether they wanted it to or not. They could pretend all they wanted, but after tonight, he’d always know what she felt and sounded like when she came.
“I guess that’s true,” she said quietly.
Because he seemed frozen, she finally slapped her knees with her hands and reached under her skirt. “Right. I don’t want to be stuck in here all night. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m Ginny, if you must.”
His eyes widened, wondering what on earth she was doing, until her pink satin panties rolled down her tanned legs as she pulled them off.
“Fuck.”
She nodded in agreement.
Because Hermione was Hermione and she took charge whenever they faced something daunting, she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, adjusting his fingers so that his middle and ring fingers were up while she folded the rest down.
“Fuck,” he said again, because honestly, what else was he supposed to say in this situation?
She sighed, and out of all the sighs he’d heard her release over the years, he knew this was her annoyed sigh. “For goodness’ sake, Harry, just do it already. It’s already been several minutes, and we’re stuck here for at least another seven, even if we start right this second, because I always have a hard time coming if I’m not in the mood.”
Knowing that they would be stuck in there all night and bald by morning if he didn’t do something, he let her guide his hand between her thighs.
This wasn’t a romantic encounter, so there were no soft touches, but he couldn’t help but think about how warm her thighs were as his hand brushed against her on the way to her center.
“Fuck.”
“Stop saying that, Harry.”
He nodded and shut his mouth.
When he finally reached her center, he wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t wet. He couldn’t think of a more unsexy situation.
Scared of hurting her more than anything else, he pushed aside his nerves and concentrated on making her feel good. He whispered a lubrication spell, causing her to jump. He parted what felt like velvet and slowly rubbed up and down, all the way to her taint and then up to her clit, circling a couple of times, careful not to stimulate it too much yet. He repeated this over and over before gently dipping down into her center. After a bit, he felt her natural lubricant soak his fingers, and the obscene noise coming from where he was touching her had him hanging his head and gritting his teeth.
He exhaled shakily, trying to steady himself. Having confirmed that she was at least wet, he dipped his fingers in again, pushing them further in, leaning closer to her and encouraging her to rest her cheek on his shoulder so they wouldn’t have to look at each other.
He kept his hand splayed on the side of her face, pressing her against him because he was a coward, and wasn’t sure he could look in her eyes as he fucked her with his fingers. He could hear her breathing pick up in his ear, and fuck, it was surreal. It reminded him of a winter night in a cold tent, weeks after Ron had left them. He had woken up to Hermione’s harsh breathing, and his immediate thought was that she was having a nightmare until a soft moan had escaped her lips. He had immediately put a silencing charm around his bed and squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to expel that sound from his brain.
There was no escaping this, though.
She felt hot, and tight, and wet, and she periodically tightened around his fingers. He was hard as a rock, and if Hermione looked down, she would see the evidence that, in this moment, he wanted her.
“Faster, Harry,” she said. Her voice was a shaky whisper, as if she was fighting the urge to move her hips.
He sped up, making sure to bend his long fingers enough to hit her G-spot, and she let out a moan before covering her mouth with her hand.
“It’s okay, Hermione.” He found that his voice was just as breathless as hers.
“Hmm?”
“You can be loud if you want.”
She quickly shook her head against his shoulder. “Too embarrassing.” And then, “Gods, Harry. I think I’m about to come.” She laughed dryly. “I never thought I’d be saying something like that to you.”
He silently agreed, but the craving, the neediness he felt from those words alone surprised him. He could have come just from that if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to come in his pants like a thirteen-year-old.
“Shit. Hurry up and come on my fingers before I lose my mind.”
She whined, fighting what felt good and trying to pull away, but he didn’t let her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me, Hermione. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ve got you.”
He circled her clit with his thumb a few more times while his fingers pounded into her, and suddenly, her body seized up, her legs shook, and she moaned so loud, he hoped the silencing charm was still working. He couldn’t help but groan along with her and rest his forehead against her temple where she’d thrown her head back. When she finally stopped twitching, he pulled his fingers out, fighting the urge to suck them into his mouth.
He absentmindedly kissed the top of her sweaty head before glancing at the timer above the door. Three minutes left. So, it only took him four minutes to get her off.
He wanted to smirk in satisfaction, but now wasn’t the time because Hermione had just gotten her panties back on and her skirt straightened out when the door clicked open. He had the urge to shut the door and finish what they had started, but instead, he stood up and rearranged his dick so no one would notice how hard he was.
They hesitantly stepped out to applause and cheers, all except the Slytherins, who clearly felt they were above it all.
“Performance anxiety, Potter?” Malfoy asked, prompting the other Slytherins to laugh.
He gave him a middle finger. The one that was inside Hermione, not like he’d ever say that out loud.
He looked at Ron, who was staring at Hermione, but Hermione refused to look at him. She took her seat next to Ginny, and Harry sat beside Ron.
Ron finally shifted his gaze away from her to glare at him, but Harry shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later,” he murmured. “Now’s not the time.” Harry could see Hermione watching them from the corner of his eye, and he didn’t want Ron to upset her right now.
He tried to concentrate on the game, but it was hard. He had his chin in his hand, and he could still smell her on his fingers.
Pansy went into the closet with Neville, who came out looking like he had lost his virginity. And surprise, surprise, Ginny ended up with Blaise, who spent forty-five minutes doing “dealer’s choice.” The game was rigged. It had to be. Zabini must have used some magic on the bowl to get exactly what he wanted.
Because their turn took so long, everyone else got up to walk around, refill their drinks, and change into more comfortable clothes since it was getting late.
Hermione stepped out of her room wearing striped shorts and one of his old Quidditch jerseys that was way too long on her, making it look like she wasn’t wearing any bottoms. He’d seen this exact outfit on her dozens of times, but he felt an unwanted surge of arousal as she turned around and he saw his name on her back.
He noticed several of the other guys and a couple of the girls staring at her ass, and he jolted, realizing she hadn’t had her turn yet. He looked around and wondered who she would get. His eyes met Malfoy’s, and Harry realized he had been caught staring at Hermione’s bum, even if that wasn’t exactly what he was doing. Malfoy smirked and looked away.
Tosser.
When Ginny and Blaise finally came out, her hair was mussed, and she had that freshly fucked look on her face that he knew too well, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sick to his stomach.
Hermione walked over and squeezed his hand in comfort, but now wasn’t the time because Ron was staring at their hands while Lavender chatted into his ear.
He gently pulled away, pretending to refill his cup while Hermione grabbed some spiked punch and talked to Luna.
They slowly made their way back to the rug, and it was Malfoy’s turn. His eyes widened in horror that he had to make out with Luna for ten minutes, and wasn’t she his third cousin?
Harry wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to hurt Luna’s feelings, so he kept it to himself instead of rubbing it in Malfoy’s face like he wanted.
Dean had to give Theo a sexy back massage, whatever that meant, but Harry thought that if he had had to do anything with a bloke, that would be the best option. Theo laughed like he didn’t give a shit, but he looked a little pale following Dean into the closet as Dean loudly told him to keep his hands to himself. If you asked him, he thought Dean was protesting a little too much.
Finally, it was Hermione’s turn. By now, it was past midnight, and everyone else had already gone, but Ron scoffed when Hermione reached into the first bowl.
Ron was in a mood because Harry had drawn Hermione’s name, and then poor Ron was chosen by Seamus, who had to give him a lap dance. He hadn’t spoken a word to him since he and Hermione came out of the room. Honestly, Harry was okay with that because he didn’t know what to say to him. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and he hoped that if Hermione were really breaking up with Ron, she would do it before Harry had to talk to him.
Hermione, who had been looking very tired, suddenly looked alert as her eyes fixed on the paper. She screamed and hurled it at Seamus.
She pointed a finger at him. “Mark my word, Seamus. Starting tomorrow, you’d better watch your back. I will get you for this. You won’t know when or how, but you’ll be looking over your shoulder until it reaches a point where you’ll beg me on your knees to curse you and get it over with.”
Everyone stared at Hermione, slack-jawed. Theo leaned over and whispered to Malfoy, “Was that hot or was that just me?”
Harry was experiencing a sense of secondhand dread. “What is it, Hermione?”
She snatched the paper up and read it out loud through her bared teeth. “Have a threesome. Dealer plays the Dom.”
Lavender gasped. “My goodness, Seamus. Didn’t you know Hermione would be playing? You know she’s not like that.” She looked at Ron in support as she laughed, and he chuckled in agreement, but Harry could tell it was fake and that Ron was realizing that Hermione was about to have a threesome, and it might not be with him.
Hermione covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God. Why me?”
Resigned, she drew her second paper and gasped, her eyes flicking to Malfoy.
No. God, no.
“Malfoy.”
Malfoy looked at Hermione in shock as she looked right back.
Ron stood up angrily. “Absolutely not.” He reached out to grab her hand and pull her to her feet. “Come on, Hermione, let’s go hang out in my room.”
She jerked her hand away from him. “Oh, now you say ‘absolutely not’. I will not be bald for the next month, Ronald.”
He looked at her in surprise, then stormed off to his room.
Hermione sighed, and Harry could tell she felt utterly defeated as she pulled out the second name from the bowl.
Her eyes met his, resigned. “Harry.”
He looked at Hermione in shock before glancing at Malfoy with disgust.
Everyone started laughing, except Malfoy and Hermione, who both looked like they were bracing for their execution.
This had not been a good night for any of them, except maybe Ginny and Blaise, who somehow drew each other’s names.
She pulled the last paper out of the third bowl. “Thirty minutes.”
“Salazar’s sake, that’s not fair,” Theo exclaimed.
Hermione held out the paper to him. “You want it?”
Theo smirked. “Nice try, Granger. I was saying it’s not fair that they get you telling them what to do for thirty minutes. Besides, if you traded you'd still be bald.”
She glanced at Seamus, who avoided her gaze but nodded to confirm what Theo was saying.
Harry felt he should be outraged that she would try to abandon him to a threesome with Malfoy and Nott, but he honestly couldn’t blame her.
Without saying another word, she stood up and headed to the room.
He slowly got up to follow, and even slower, Malfoy, behind him.