Author: magicofisis and shocolate
Pairing: Harry…. having sex
Words: 9000 – written in three days!
Written for the amazing and rapidly approaching abigail89, for her 21st birthday – Dan’ll like Older Women, we’re sure of it!
Rapidly approaching as in we are going to see her in March! Hurrah!
And thanks to sheepybunbuns for the lightning fast beta. There are very few people besides abigail89 that we
Harry had had a foul day at work.
They had had to write off three weeks of surveillance work on a suspected Death Eater, because their star witness turned out to be a jilted girlfriend.
He had had to go and request the paperwork on Vincent Crabbe, and the department archivist had pulled her blouse down off her shoulders and pressed her breasts together and smiled up at him as she handed over the list of petty crimes and Harry had blinked and thanked her and backed away.
And Kingsley had had a go at him about the amount of fan mail he was receiving, care of the department - as if he wouldn’t have stopped it if he could!
He finally Flooed home with a headache building behind his eyes, a pile of paperwork under his arm, and the knowledge that Ron would be home from work already and not averse to being buggered though the mattress was the only thing that kept him sane.
Ron was sitting on the couch, still wearing his orange Cannons practise uniform, a bottle of beer tilted to his lips.
“Hey,” he said, swallowing. “D’you wanna know what I heard about Seamus today?”
“No,” Harry said shortly, dropping his paperwork, grabbing Ron’s arm and hauling him sideways off the couch.
“Bed,” Harry grunted, shrugging off his robes as he stalked down the corridor to their bedroom.
“Lovely,” Ron said, jogging to catch up with him. “Y’know you only had to say.”
Harry was already naked and he glared at Ron as he finished stripping before shoving him down on the bed.
“Blimey,” Ron said, any further comment being smothered as Harry’s mouth descended on his.
“Bad day,” Harry muttered against his lips, kneeling over Ron and running one hand down his freckled and lightly haired chest. “Need you.”
“Need to be inside you.”
“Need you inside me.”
Harry muttered a hasty Lubrication Charm and buried himself up to the hilt in Ron’s body.
“Fuck you, need you, so hot, for me, so tight, so good,” Harry babbled, burying his face in Ron’s neck.
“Take it easy, Harry,” Ron said, wrapping his arms around him. “I’m here, not going anywhere, you know that.”
“Never leave me.”
“FuckyesRonplease,” Harry gasped, white lights bursting behind his closed eyelids as he poured his soul into his lover….
There was a strange lurching feeling in his stomach, which was wholly separate from his orgasm; it felt more like a Portkey than anything else Harry could describe.
With some trepidation, he opened his eyes as soon as it stopped.
“Fuck!” he gasped. “How the hell did I get here?”
“Very funny, Blaise,” purred Draco Malfoy, who was magically bound to the headboard and wearing a Slytherin-green blindfold. “You got here the same way you always do – by special invitation. And no fair pretending to be Potter tonight when I don’t have full use of my hands.”
Harry was completely stunned. He glanced down to see his cock buried in Draco Malfoy’s arse, hardening again quickly even though he’d just come a few seconds before. He looked around, but didn’t see any sign of Blaise, although there were some discarded robes that looked like they might have belonged to him. And what the hell was Malfoy talking about? Role playing?
He started to move involuntarily, not wanting to be as turned on by the gorgeous body beneath him as he was. “Why? What would you do if I was Potter and your hands were free?”
“Breathplay. Same as always. You know how strangling Potter turns me on.”
“You sick bastard,” whispered Harry, in spite of himself.
“Yeah, so are you,” Draco said with a smile.
He had no idea what was going on. Somehow he’d just landed in Malfoy’s bedroom – well, in Malfoy’s arse, to be specific – and he didn’t know how to get out of there. Having arrived completely naked, he had no wand, and there was every possibility that Blaise Zabini would come through the door any second and beat the hell out of him for fucking his boyfriend.
Harry’s only option was to continue to fuck Malfoy so that he wouldn’t get suspicious while he tried to figure out another option.
Harry had never had an opportunity to see Malfoy this closely; Malfoy had disappeared after sixth year, and while rumours of his activities circulated through the Auror office, no one had actually seen him in ages. Harry let his eyes wander over the body of his former nemesis and had to admit that he had certainly kept himself fit.
Then his eyes landed on Malfoy’s Dark Mark which, although faded, stood out prominently against his ghostly pale skin.
I’m fucking a Death Eater, Harry thought to himself. I’m a fucking Auror and I’m currently buggering a known Death Eater. If anyone finds out, I’m dead.
Harry’s panic was interrupted by Malfoy’s whinging voice, “Come on, Zabini, you know I like it rougher than this. Since when did you turn into a Hufflepuff?”
Figuring that in the depraved world of Slytherins, there was probably no bigger insult than being called a Hufflepuff, Harry immediately took offence and began to snap his hips forcefully with each thrust. (The same treatment to Ron would have earned Harry a nasty hex or two.) Harry bent his head down to take one of Malfoy’s nipples into his mouth, and after swirling his tongue around it several times, he bit hard enough to make Malfoy yelp. He wrapped a hand around Malfoy’s cock and brutally pulled on it over and over. Judging from the obscenities escaping from Malfoy’s mouth, he was definitely enjoying the rough sex.
And Harry was astonished at how arousing it was to abuse Malfoy this way without him knowing.
Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hips and dug his fingers into the tender flesh there so hard that he knew there’d be bruises for a week. Faster and faster he went, until he felt that familiar tightness in his balls. With a loud grunt, he closed his eyes and emptied himself into his archenemy…
With another sickening lurch, his feet hit wet tiles and skidded slightly.
He clung to what was beneath his hands, and when he opened his eyes, he found that the only thing that had kept him standing upright were the slim hips he was holding on to and the firm arse his cock was anchored in.
The stunningly attractive, toned, tight arse, perched atop of long, dark-haired, hard-muscled legs and at the bottom of a slim, broad shouldered body.
A body patterned with rivulets of water splashing from the shower overhead and crowned with a raven head that was drooping between arms braced against the shower wall.
“Ach, you canna stop,” a very familiar voice begged and Harry gasped.
“Oliver!” he moaned, blushing at the thought that his unworthy cock was inside that legendary arse.
Oliver’s celebrated arse moved back at him, impaling himself further on Harry’s once again thrilled and tumescent cock and clenching around him.
“Fuck, Oliver,” Harry whimpered, helplessly, hoping his voice would be drowned by the sound of the water beating down on them both.
“That’s the idea, Perce,” Oliver groaned. “Fuck Oliver; fuck him through the wall!”
Part of Harry’s mind was having a very hard time processing what had happened to him; part was trying to think like an Auror, but was being over ruled; an annoying and immature part was thinking, “Oliver! Oliver Wood!” over and over again.
And the part that seemed to be in control of his body started moving.
Digging his fingers into Oliver’s flesh, he withdrew and slid smoothly back between those firm buttocks.
“Oliver’s buttocks!” the fourteen year old part of his brain supplied.
“Yes,” Oliver hissed, bracing his legs further apart and reaching for his cock with one hand.
Harry couldn’t help it, he peered round Oliver’s hip, watching the strong fingers wrapping round the aching purple cock and stroke with a rhythm that matched Harry’s own.
“That’s ma boy,” Oliver groaned. “That’s ma red-headed stallion.”
The immature part of his brain was torn between thinking it would never look Percy Weasley in the eye again, and thinking, “Oliver’s glorious buttocks!”
He squeezed one in each hand and turned his thumbs to part the cheeks, watching his cock drive repeatedly into Oliver’s hole.
Water was running down, between those illustrious buttocks and Harry licked his lips.
After one hard thrust that nearly lifted Oliver off his feet, Harry withdrew and fell to his knees, replacing his cock with his tongue and fucking Oliver as deeply as he could before the Auror part of his brain tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, “What if rimming isn’t hereditary?”
But, luckily, the magnificent buttocks pushed back at him and he buried his face between them, lapping and sucking and thrusting and making Oliver whimper and tug harder at his straining erection.
“I’m gonna blow, Perce,” Oliver moaned. “Want you inside me.”
Harry leapt to his feet and pressed the head of his very excited cock to Oliver’s entrance. It was greedily swallowed up and Harry started thrusting in earnest, his hips snapping forward over and over again as Oliver tipped back his head and let the shower hit him in the face as Harry gasped and collapsed against his back, pressing his face between Oliver’s shoulder blades as his climax ripped through him and part of him thought, “Now what?” and part of him thought, “Oliver’s renowned buttocks!”
As he half-expected and half-feared, his stomach lurched again and he braced himself for what was happening next. He seemed to be caught in some bizarre time/space continuum, and the trigger for moving appeared to be his orgasm. Before he had time to reason it out, however, the sensation stopped, and he knew by the feeling around his cock that he’d just landed in someone else’s arse.
He opened his eyes. Shit.
“Good lord, Tonks, I had no idea it would feel so realistic. Tilt a little to the left, though, if you don’t mind.”
Harry swore under his breath, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t fuck his former teacher and one of his dad’s best mates! Or at least he’d have to say something. His cock seemed to think that not only was it possible but that it was a really good idea, because he was achingly hard and loving the feeling of Remus’s arse.
“Er, Remus? I’m not Tonks. I’m Harry.”
Remus swung his head around and nearly dropped to his elbows in shock. “Oh my God, Nymphadora, when did you learn to do that? I didn’t know you could change your voice, too. It’s an amazingly good likeness.”
“No, really Remus, it’s me, Harry. Son of your friends, Lily and James. The only one who knows you were having an affair with Sirius when he died.”
“Harry?” Remus’s eyes went wide. “But…”
“I have no idea how I got here, or what happened to Tonks. All I know is that I was having sex with Ron and then when I came, I somehow got transported into a time/space continuum that’s landed me in, er, other people’s arses.” He blushed crimson and stopped moving.
“Fascinating,” said Remus. “Has anything like this ever happened before?”
“Not before tonight, no,” answered Harry. “But you’re my, um, third stop so far. Remus, what am I going to do?”
Remus thought for a moment. “To be honest, Harry, I have no idea. But if having an orgasm causes you to move along the continuum, perhaps you’d better just carry on. Tonks and I were just trying out a new toy… oh, I suppose that’s too much information, isn’t it?”
“Carry on? You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Smiling, Remus replied, “On the contrary, I’d enjoy it very much. I love Tonks, but it’s been ages since I was buggered by a man and I do miss it. We’ll keep this just between us.”
“Too right we will,” muttered Harry as he began to move again, this time more vigorously.
Remembering what Remus had said about tilting to the left, Harry shifted, and was rewarded by moans of pleasure from Remus. It wasn’t too bad, buggering his former professor. He tried to imagine what Tonks would look like wearing a dildo and fucking Remus, and he could feel himself getting closer by the minute. He snaked a hand around to the front to wrap around Remus’s cock. Remus growled, and that was all it took to send him over the edge.
“Thanks,” shouted Harry as he came, and then he felt the now familiar tugging in his stomach. Oh boy, he thought.
He’d recognise the feeling of a hot, tight arse gripping his cock anywhere, and this just wasn’t anal.
Something had clearly gone wrong.
He mentally shook himself to dislodge the idea that slipping through time and space and docking with various, undeniably attractive arses was in any way ‘right’.
His cock was inside something altogether wetter and squelchier and hairier. He moved experimentally, the two slim legs thrown over his hips tightened appreciatively and he cracked open one eye.
A mildly curious Luna was gazing up at him, the merest shadow of a frown between her eyebrows. Her hair was splayed out on the pillow and – he glanced swiftly down her body and up again – she was naked and flushed and sweaty.
And his poor confused cock was buried in her… girl’s parts.
It was confused, but plucky, and had already stirred and hardened and resumed thrusting.
“Um,” he said, wittily.
“Harry?” Luna asked, tipping her head to one side. “Where on earth did you come from?”
“That’s the thing,” Harry said. “I already came. Um.”
“My father always says a gentleman makes sure the lady comes first,” Luna said, with a hint of disapproval in her voice. “It was selfishness like that that brought down the Azalean Empire.”
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I don’t mean I already came inside you.” He withdrew carefully and surged back into her and she sighed happily. “I mean I was having sex with someone else, and when I came, I opened my eyes and I was inside you.”
Luna nodded. “I think I would have remembered agreeing to have sex with you,” she said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have used such dreadful chat up lines, like Seamus did. All you’d have to do is ask nicely, and I would have checked that it would be alright with Ronald.”
“This is the fourth time I’ve climaxed and leapt into someone else’s arse, um, body, er… um, sex life.”
“Ah,” Luna said seriously, tipping her pelvis so his thrusts brushed against her clit more satisfactorily. “It sounds like you’ve been struck with Sweyn Forkbeard Disease.”
“What?” Harry asked, reaching one hand beneath her and cupping her too soft, but nonetheless comfortingly familiar, arse.
“Sweyn Forkbeard was King of Denmark in the tenth century, oh, yes, just like that,” Luna said as he slid a finger between her cheeks and circled her hole. “He invaded England, but he died five weeks later. Harry, d’you think you could suck my nipples? That is something Seamus is very good at – I always wondered if Ronald would even be able to bend and reach my nipples, during intercourse, because he’s so tall. They pretended Sweyn had just died, but really he’d seduced King Ethelred’s wife and he vanished during sex with Queen Emma and reappeared in bed with her son, Edward, who panicked and killed him. That’s what Edward always felt guilty about – the buggering, not the killing – and that’s why he was so devout and that’s why he was called Edward the Confessor. And they totally had to hush the whole thing up when Queen Emma married Sweyn’s son, Canute – can you imagine the scandal? You can slip a finger inside me, if you like, I don’t mind.”
“So,” Harry panted, sliding a finger up her arse and groaning as he felt his cock press past it, “there’s no cure? He’d have been jumping forever if someone hadn’t killed him? ‘Cos, you know, there are some people I could end up screwing who wouldn’t be as accommodating as you!”
“Oh, you’re so sweet,” she said earnestly. “Some people say there’s no cure, but some say – oh, you really are wonderful in bed, Harry – that he’d have closed the loop if he’d leapt into someone he loved.”
“But I love Ron,” Harry said, pressing his face between her breasts and lapping at the sweat pooling there. “Does Ron know I’ve gone? Have I vanished or can I get home to him, before he realises anything?”
But, before she could answer, Luna’s fingers closed on his nipples and twisted and he reared back and gasped and his cock jerked and he came and everything went black.
Harry opened his eyes as soon as he landed but immediately thought he hadn’t. He was on his back in a pitch black room, and he couldn’t see the man who was riding his cock. It felt good, though, comforting to be away from the disconcerting girl-bits.
The man above him said nothing, so Harry finally gave in and said, “Excuse me, but do I know you?”
The man’s barking laugh caused Harry’s heart to skip a beat. No, it couldn’t be.
“I don’t know – it depends who’s asking. I thought I’d fucked everyone in this place, but you don’t look familiar.” He barked again. “Of course, it’s not like I can see.”
Harry would have known that laugh anywhere. And the voice was one he’d heard in his dreams over and over again for years.
The man stopped suddenly. “How did you know my name? Who are you?”
“Harry. Your godson.”
Sirius began to move again. “I’ll be damned. Really? Well, Harry, welcome to wherever we are. There’s nothing else to do here but have sex, so we might as well get to it.”
Harry’s head began to hurt. “But Sirius, you’re dead,” he said quietly.
Sirius laughed again. “Oh really? Do I feel dead to you? ‘Cause, you know, if this is death, it’s not so bad.”
“No! You feel really, um, not dead. But you went through the veil in the Department of Ministries, and you never came back. We were sure you were dead.”
Sirius sped up, repeatedly impaling himself on Harry, which left Harry nearly breathless.
“Well, how’d you get here then? Did you go through the veil too?”
“No idea,” panted Harry. “I’m stuck travelling through time and space, and I keep landing in the middle of other people having sex.”
“Fucked anyone good so far?”
“Er, a few. Remus…”
Sirius went even faster at the mention of his lover. “I miss Remus. Did he growl?”
“Oh, yeah. God it was sexy.”
As Sirius rode his cock feverishly, Harry tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he was fucking his dead godfather who apparently wasn’t dead but was stuck somewhere in the time/space continuum with no way to get out. Then it hit him; he loved Sirius. Absolutely, without a doubt, adored him. Idolized him, even. Surely if Luna was right, then this could be his chance to close the loop and return to Ron…
“I love you, Sirius,” Harry said.
Sirius only barked at him again. “Harry, you don’t have to say that to another bloke during sex. It’s only the birds that like to hear it.”
“No, I really mean—”
But he was interrupted when Sirius bent over and thrust his tongue inside Harry’s mouth. He found Harry’s tongue and sucked on it, and it felt so good and it was Sirius and he couldn’t hold back a second longer. With a loud cry, he came hard.
And as he felt himself being jerked away from wherever he’d been, he hoped that his love for Sirius had been enough to send him back to Ron.
But, unless Ron had somehow lost it and committed a terrible crime in the time he’d been gone – which wasn’t impossible, let’s face it, because Ron had one hell of a temper, and what if he thought something terrible had happened to Harry?
More terrible than fucking his teenage nemesis, his teenage crush, the sweetest girl he knew and his father’s two best friends, one of whom was presumed dead.
But, unless Ron had done something terrible, then the arse he was currently thrusting into was unlikely to be the one that he called home.
Because it was thin and sad looking and peeking out between ragged grey, prison issue clothes in a horrible rough cotton that had rubbed the poor arse something raw.
And it was cowering, on all fours, in a cold and dim prison cell, with its hands over its head, blocking out what was happening to it.
Harry’s cock faltered.
Every leap so far had taken him to a point in space and time where a good time was being had by all, but this poor wretch was being buggered by some bully in prison.
Harry looked down at himself; well, he was also wearing a prisoner’s uniform, and his trousers were round his ankles as he knelt behind his… victim? Partner? Cellmate?
“Hey, you there,” Harry said tentatively, resting one hand on the sad arse and stilling the thrusting movement of his hips.
“I din’t peek,” a scared voiced said. “I din’t look an’ I din’t say nuffink an’ you tol’me ta jus’ keep still, an’ I have!”
He couldn’t force himself on this poor bloke, but what if he didn’t?
If he didn’t come, he’d be stuck here, forever, serving someone else’s prison sentence, and possibly being subjected to the attentions of other prisoners.
But to use this poor soul to escape?
Well, it wouldn’t make anything worse for him, would it? Not really.
“You… you can look round,” Harry said.
“Oh, no, I don’t wanna,” the voice squeaked. “You said it woz gonna be quick if I keep me ‘ead down. Please Mister Malfoy, jus’ do wot you hav’ta and go back ter yer cell.”
No way was Harry going to abuse this sad specimen as Lucius Malfoy.
“Please,” he said, his cock slipping out of the skinny body. “Look at me.”
The thin arms unwound from over its head and the figure sat up, cowering before Harry like a battered dog.
“Stan!” he said.
“Wot d’you want now, Mr Malfoy?” Stan asked. ”Please don’ make me suck yer, not when you’ve bin up me arse. Anyfink else, ‘onest.”
“It’s not Malfoy,” Harry said, crouching before the sad figure. “It’s me, Harry. Harry Potter.”
Stan’s eyes grew round and he shook his head mournfully.
“I do know, ‘arry Potter,” he said. “I said I do, an’ I do. No need ter take the mick. No need ter fuck me wiv ‘is face on.”
“Really, Stan, it’s me,” Harry said. “I’ve been trapped in this weird space and time loop thingy, and I keep jumping into someone else’s body, while they’re having sex. And then I come and I’m whisked away again. My friend says I’ll be stuck until I’m with someone I love, and then I can go home.”
“Don’ ‘ave ter talk abou’ luv,” Stan muttered. “Don’ ‘ave ter talk abou’ ‘ome. I know I’m stuck ‘ere, I know no one cares abou’ me.”
“I do,” Harry said. “I care.”
Stand sniffed mournfully.
“I’ve complained to the Minister about you being held here, honestly,” Harry said.
Stan shook his head.
“Jus’ finish the job and call the guard,” he said, turning back onto all fours and presenting his arse to Harry.
“No,” Harry said. “Look Stan, I promise this isn’t a trick. I… the first time we met I pretended I was called Neville Longbottom, because I was in trouble.”
The arse tightened suddenly and Stan sat down heavily.
“‘arry?” he asked, his eyes running frantically over Harry’s face.
“You read me the article about Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban!”
“Oh my gawd, it is you!” Stan crowed, half laughing.
“And that guff abou’ being stuck ‘aving sex wiv random peopwe?”
“True, I’m afraid,” Harry said ruefully. “This is the sixth leap I’ve made, but all the others were into people having, you know, consensual sex.”
“An’ you can’ move on ‘til you cum? An’ you can’ go ‘ome ‘til you go wiv someone you luv?”
“An’ you can’ stay ‘ere!” Stan gasped. “The Chosen One, stuck in Azkaban, bein’ bea’en by guards. No sir, not while there’s breath in my body!”
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.
“You ‘ave ter finish the job, doncha?” Stan said. “You cum and you move on and you find that arse that gets you ‘ome!”
He got back onto all fours, but his arse wasn’t drooping anymore. It looked almost proud.
“Stan, I can’t,” Harry said.
“I know I’m nuffink to look at,” Stan said. “But I wanna ‘elp.”
“It’s not that,” Harry said. “He was… raping you.”
“But you’re not,” Stan said firmly. “You bang away an’ think of Englan’ and you get yourself ‘ome!”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Harry said faintly. “I won’t forget this, and I’ll do everything in my power to get you out of here, I swear.”
And he knelt behind his saviour and he closed his eyes and thought of going home to his Ron, and he stroked his cock until it was hard and ready to press inside Stan’s patiently waiting arse.
And he drove into him, muttering, “I promise I’ll get you out of here,” and he felt his balls tighten and he felt his climax building and he whispered, “thank you.”
And he was wrenched out of the terrible place.
Harry was feeling sick to his stomach, and it had nothing to do with the lurching from the time travel. He knew he was very lucky that Lucius Malfoy’s victim of the night was Stan. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to get himself out of Azkaban, but he knew he’d be demanding Stan Shunpike’s release first thing in the morning, even if he had to appeal to the Minister of Magic to do it. There had to be some benefit to being Harry Potter.
The churning stopped and Harry opened his eyes. This time he started giggling with relief. Thank God!
“Neville! Am I ever glad to see you!”
Neville looked horror struck. “Harry! I…um…” He flicked his eyes downward to where Harry’s cock was buried in his arse. “Fuck. What did I do?”
Harry was so relieved to be fucking a friend that he hugged him. “What do you mean?”
“I was just doing a lube charm so that I could, you know,” he grabbed his own cock and started stroking it, “and Ernie disappeared and you showed up. I’m such an idiot.”
“No you’re not,” said Harry soothingly. “It wasn’t your doing, it was mine.”
“If you wanted to have sex, Harry, you could have just asked. You and Ron having problems?”
Harry settled in to a nice thrusting rhythm. “No, no, nothing like that. Somehow I got myself stuck in some kind of a time warp, and now every time I come, I leap through time and space into someone else’s arse. Or, um, Luna.”
“How long has this been going on?” asked Neville with concern.
“You’re number seven so far. Not including Ron.”
“Does Ron know about this?”
Harry shrugged. “I have no idea. Luna thought I had something called Sweyn Forkbeard Disease.”
“What’s that?” asked Neville. He continued to stroke his cock as if it were perfectly normal to have a conversation with Harry while being fucked by him.
“Can’t remember. But she seems to think that I’ll continue to leap from person to person until I land with someone I love.”
Neville smiled. “Well, I’m sorry it’s not me.”
“How do you know? I care about you a lot – you’re one of my best mates, you know,” said Harry, frowning.
“I know that,” chuckled Neville. “But I’ve been throwing myself at you for years and you’ve never noticed that I’m crazy about you.”
“You have? God, Nev, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s all right. Don’t be sorry. I think you and Ron are great together. I’m just sorry I can’t help you out of your current predicament.”
“Er, actually, you can. You see, I can’t move on to the next person until after I come. So would it be okay if I, um…”
“Would you?” said a starry-eyed Neville. “I’d never ask because, you know, Ron would hex my bollocks off, but I’ve been wanting you to do this forever.”
A surge of gratitude washed over Harry. He felt very bad that he’d never noticed Neville having a crush on him, so he decided to put a little more effort into it this time.
“What do you like, Neville? I want it to be good for you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry said nervously.
“Will you kiss me? I know a lot of blokes won’t, but I really like it.”
“Yeah. I like it too. Just don’t tell Ron, okay?”
Harry lowered his lips to Neville’s and kissed him as if it was the last kiss they’d ever share (which, of course, it probably was). He knocked Neville’s hand away from his cock and continued to stroke him, running his thumb over the slit and playing with the foreskin.
Now that Neville’s hands were both free, he caressed Harry worshipfully, sliding them over his body and around to his arse. It wasn’t Ron, but it was very, very good. He slid a finger in Harry’s hole and it was too much: his balls tightened and then he was coming with all of his might.
He nearly cried when he lurched away to his next stop. Please let it be Ron, he whimpered.
Harry lay back on a soft bed and sighed.
Please, please, please let it be his bed; let the word ‘love’ include Neville.
But it hadn’t included Sirius, so he sighed again and opened his eyes.
A four poster bed, canopied in red and gold, which was a heart warming sight. He was lying across it, his legs spread and dangling over the edge, someone was kneeling between his thighs and a remarkably talented mouth was surrounding his cock and a great deal of soft hair was spread across his lap.
He tipped his head up and looked down his body. A great deal of greying hair and the frown of concentration of Minerva McGonagall.
“Jesus,” he gasped, scrambling backwards on the bed on arse and elbows and pulling his cock from her mouth with an audible pop.
“What on earth is the matter, Severus?” she snapped.
“Severus?” Harry squeaked, looking past his bobbing erection to the startled face of his former headmistress.
And current head mistress, it seemed.
“What is the meaning of this, Mr Potter?” she demanded, rising carefully from her knees and wrapping her robe around more of her naked breasts than he’d ever imagined seeing.
Two naked breasts.
It wasn’t as if she was some sort of mutant triple breasted… oh, god, get a grip.
He’d just never imagined them naked.
Ron had gone for the much more obvious buxom, high-heeled and slutty charms of Madam Rosmerta, older womanwise.
Harry wondered what that implied about him, but decided Ron’s taste had improved.
He, himself had always rather admired Professor McGonagall’s combination of strength and a sly sense of humour.
“Well?” she snapped, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring down at him and making him feel eleven years old again, except for the naked cock still waving happily between them.
“What are you doing out of Gryffindor Tower after curfew?” she asked, starting to look a bit flustered, with her hair loose about her shoulders. “And how did you get in here? Oh, cover yourself up!”
Harry looked round wildly, grabbed a pillow and placed it carefully in his lap.
“I’m out after curfew because I left school four years ago,” he protested.
She leant closer and stared into his face, before sniffing and obviously accepting that he was a grown man.
“That doesn’t explain how you got in here,” she pointed out. “Or what you thought you were doing.”
“I didn’t mean to… interrupt, “Harry said, wincing. “It’s been happening all night. I was in bed with Ron, and when I … climaxed, I jumped away and into the middle of someone else having sex. It’s happened eight times, now. I complete the… deed and I leap again. Always inside someone I know – who is inside someone else I know.”
“How extraordinary,” she said, sitting on the bed beside him and examining him closely. “You’re leaping in time, as well, apparently, because I very much hope that you and Mr Weasley were engaged in no such act in the fifth years’ dormitories, or I will have to deduct points.”
“I told you!” Harry said. “I left school four years ago. I’m now a…”
“No, don’t tell me abut the future,” she interrupted. “I’m your head of house, I have to give you careers advice, I have to be dispassionate – I can’t know what you’ve ended up doing!”
“So,” he said. “When in fifth year is this?”
She snorted and gave him a very severe look. “You played Slytherin this afternoon,” she said. “And got yourself a lifetime ban.”
“Ah,” he said. “Sorry. At least we won.”
“Well, yes, we won the match,” she admitted. “But I lost my side bet with Professor Snape, hence the…” She gestured vaguely at the bed, his nakedness and her own state of undress.
“Um,” Harry said.
“Well, spit it out, Potter.”
“You were going down on Professor Snape because you lost a bet?”
She looked embarrassed and started plaiting her hair, furiously. “I wouldn’t normally tell a student, but you’re not a student anymore, are you? And you did find yourself rather… involved in the act.”
He gave her a pointed look.
“Oh, very well,” she said. “Professor Snape and I have a side bet on the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match every year, and it depends on the points score without taking the Snitch into account. Professor Snape is of the opinion that the points for the Snitch are unfair.”
“Always the same… forfeit?” Harry asked.
“So,” he said slowly. “Even though we won every match, only in my third year were we ahead when I caught the Snitch.”
“I wish I’d known,” Harry said. “I’d have held off catching it unless we were in the lead.”
“Yes, well, that is hardly something I would ask of an eleven year old boy, now is it? And, anyway, we have strayed dangerously off topic. Which is, how have you arrived in my bed and what can we do to send you back where you came from?”
“Well, I arrived because I came in… up… um, in someone else’s bed,” he said, flushing. “And that is how I move on. I have to complete the transaction.”
“Goodness,” she said, one hand coming up to her throat.
“Luna says it’s called Sweyn Forkbeard Disease, and I’ll keep jumping until I sleep with someone I love, and then I can go home.”
“To Mr Weasley.”
“Well, you can’t stay here,” she said.
“I know,” he said, his shoulders drooping. “But I don’t know how else…”
“Clearly we have to complete the transaction,” she interrupted.
“You’d…” He gestured at his cushion covered lap.
“Clearly, we have no choice,” she said, tying the sash of her robe with great dignity and kneeling on the floor once more.
“Wow, Professor, I don’t know what to say,” Harry said, wriggling back to the edge of the bed, cushion still in place.
“Well, you can’t call me ‘professor’, for a start,” she snorted. “Not if we are about to commit a sexual act.”
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“I’d say ‘professor’ goes perfectly with ‘commit a sexual act’,” he said.
“I’m not sure I can be intimate in language as well as act,” she said, tugging the pillow away. “Especially as I have to see your younger self, tomorrow, and not slap him for being banned from the team.”
They both looked down at his flaccid cock and she reached out to stroke it.
“Can I ask a favour?” he said, after a few moments.
Her hand stilled. “A favour other than ‘will you go down on me and send me home?’”
“Don’t be too hard on Ron for letting in all those goals today,” he said. “If he’d known he was playing for your honour, he’d have played better.”
“Well,” she said. “I may consider telling him, before the Hufflepuff game.”
Harry winced at the memory.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t want to know. Now, lie down and let me concentrate.”
He lay back and propped himself up on his elbows to watch her work.
Her hand was firm and self-assured and her mouth was hot and confident, her concentration was so Hermione-like that he wondered why he had never seen the similarities before.
Strength and a sly sense of humour.
And devoted to him.
And industriously sucking on his cock until his arms gave way under him and he moaned and thrust up with his hips and flooded her mouth, and the world tilted.
That was a bit too weird, thought Harry as he swirled through time and space. He was tired and discouraged: as much as McGonagall must care about him to do what she did, he didn’t hold out any hope that she would be the one to close the loop. He was more than ready for this whole ordeal to end. He missed Ron and wondered what was going on in his mind. What if he’d changed places with the people he was leaping into? Then those people would all be having sex with his Ron.
He grimaced as his insides suddenly stilled. Carefully opening one eye, he saw two wide eyes staring back at him.
“All right, Harry?” said the familiar voice of Colin Creevey.
Harry tried desperately to avoid rolling his eyes. Well, at least he could be sure that Colin wasn’t going to kill him on sight, despite the fact that he’d shown up uninvited buried deep in Colin’s arse.
“Er, hi, Colin,” he said wearily. “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt you and…” he faltered.
“George. Or it might have been Fred. No, no, no. It was definitely George.”
“Right. Well, the thing is, Colin, that I’ve been leaping into blokes’ arses all night and I have no idea how it started. Hopefully George—”
“Hopefully the person who was here with you is somewhere safe until I move on again.”
“Wicked! I love magic! So Harry, is it a magical game or something? What do I have to do to play?”
Although he was tempted to say, ‘give up caffeine,’ Harry merely shook his head.
“I don’t think it’s a game, Colin. If it is, I’m tired of playing and I want to go home.”
Colin encouraged Harry to start moving again, and Harry did so without really thinking about it.
“So why don’t you just stop and go home?” Colin asked.
Harry was stunned by the simplicity of the suggestion before he remembered. “I haven’t got any clothes or my wand. Plus, I’m not really sure if we’re in the same year now.”
“It’s 2006. November the fifteenth.”
“That’s two and a half months earlier than when I left.”
Colin smiled brightly. “Oh. Sorry. Hey, I just got back the pictures I took at the last Chudley Cannons match. Do you wanna see ‘em? There’s a great one of Ron straddling his broom.”
Actually, there were few things that Harry wanted to see more than Ron straddling his broom, but he couldn’t. He had to keep going on his journey. One more leap, another fuck. He sighed and shook his head.
“Can I see them another time, please?” Harry said slowly. “I need to ask you for a favour.”
Colin’s face shone. “Yeah, sure. Anything you want.”
“I need to fuck you until I come so that I can move on to the next person. Would that be all right?”
Colin looked down to where Harry’s cock was gently thrusting into his arse. “Er, Harry? Isn’t that what we’re doing already?”
“Uh huh,” said Harry, picking up the pace. “Except I’ll need to do it a bit faster in order to, you know, climax.”
A gleeful expression washed over Colin’s face. “Oh! Well, if you’re going for speed, Dennis taught me this really neat trick. You remember Dennis, my little brother, right?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.”
Colin pulled Harry close and moved his fingers to Harry’s arse so that they were teasing his hole. Then he reached down and pressed on Harry’s perineum with one hand while sucking on a particularly sensitive spot, just below Harry’s ear. His other hand tweaked one of Harry’s nipples. Instantly, Harry pumped harder and he shouted “Fuck!” and came harder than he had all night.
His heart was still pounding as he was jerked away…
He was tired. Drained. Defeated.
He didn’t care if he’d leapt into You Know Who’s body while Bellatrix tied him to the Whomping Willow and buggered him with a strap on.
He sighed and buried his face in the hair of the person he was fucking and decided to go to sleep.
Because his indefatigable, if sore, cock had perked up at the feeling of the warm, wet, woman’s body he was thrusting into.
He inhaled and his cock and his heart leapt.
Not home, not yet, but so close.
He’d recognise that scent, anywhere.
“Hermione?” he whimpered, lifting his head and looking down into shocked brown eyes.
“Harry!” she squealed, her slim arms unwrapping from around his neck and pushing at his shoulders. “What did you do to Viktor?”
“Oh, god, Hermione,” he moaned, gathering her up in his arms and holding her tight. “Oh god, it’s you!”
“Harry, don’t, I’m naked!”
He laughed, slightly hysterically.
“I can tell,” he said. “And I’m not going to let go, so don’t even suggest it.”
“Harry, you’re… we’re…” She swallowed audibly and he felt her muscles clench around his cock. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I think I am ricocheting through space and time, like I’m trapped in a giant pinball machine,” he said, loosening his hold sufficiently to rear back onto his elbows and look her in the face.
“What?” she demanded, a frown appearing between her eyebrows. “What happened?”
“It’s like I was fired into the game when I was in bed with Ron,” he said, warming to his theme and automatically thrusting gently inside her. “I came and I shot out into space, and every time I hit a rubber thing or a flipper, it’s when I land in someone else’s arse, and then I climax inside them and bounce away again.”
Hermione blinked up at him and then gasped as he changed angle and thrust deeper.
“You’ve been bouncing into bed with all sorts of different people?” she asked. “Who?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you!” he said. “They’re always in the middle of having sex and their partner disappears and there I am… penetrating them. And I can’t leave until I come. Luna said it’s called Sweyn Forkbeard Disease, and I’m trapped until I climax with someone I really love, and then I’ll go home.”
Hermione’s frown deepened and he ground down into her, distracting her from the mention of Luna’s name.
Because he really needed Hermione to help him out here, and she never, ever had time for Luna’s theories.
“Space and time?” she said. “You know travelling through time is dangerous, Harry.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to, did I?” he protested.
“What times have you visited?” she asked. “How can you safely appear and have intercourse with an ancient Egyptian, or something?”
“No, it’s always someone I know,” he said. “Like when I was with… um, well it was back in our fifth year, and once I think I leapt into limbo, or wherever you go when you die, and once… Hermione, is Stan Shunpike still in Azkaban?”
“What? No, you suddenly kicked up a huge fuss a couple of years ago, and got him released. Don’t you remember?”
“I, um… one of my leaps was a couple of years ago, then,” he said, blushing.
“Oh!” she said. “Oh, my goodness. And has everyone you’ve landed in has been understanding about this… affliction?”
“Everyone has been amazing,” he said. “But it’s just been sex, you know? Not enough love to get me home.”
“Who have you just come from?” she asked.
“Um, Colin,” he admitted, flushing and looking down and seeing her naked breasts being crushed against his chest and flushing deeper.
“Colin?” she squeaked. “You came here directly from Colin Creevey’s arse?”
“Harry!” she said. “Don’t you know it’s horribly unhygienic to have vaginal intercourse after unprotected anal intercourse?”
He blinked down at her.
“It’s not my fault!” he said again. “And you think you’re badly off, just think how Professor McGonagall must have felt, when I came straight from Neville’s arse and down her throat.”
Hermione’s eyes widened so much he thought they may pop out of her head.
“You leapt into the middle of Professor McGonagall going down on someone?” she whispered, clutching at his shoulders and unconsciously arching up against him as he moved inside her.
“Well, um, yeah,” he said. “And you really don’t want to know who.”
“And these people all let you carry on until you climaxed?” she asked.
“Um, yeah, I suppose they did, except for the one who was blindfolded, and the one with his back to me, under the shower.”
“I don’t know what Luna thought she was talking about,” Hermione said. “But she seems to have come close to the truth. It seems to me that a lot of people love you, Harry. Maybe that is what you are supposed to learn from this experience?”
“And maybe, if you believe that, you can go home.”
“Wow,” he said, lying motionless on top of her. “I, um, when I was in bed with Ron, I was feeling very sorry for myself. I was thinking that he was all I had in the world.”
“And now you know differently, don’t you?” she smiled, wrapping one leg round his hip and pressing her heel to his arse.
“I. Yeah, I think I do,” he said.
“So,” she said, running her fingers through his hair and pulling his face down for a soft kiss. “Maybe this time you’ll go home.”
His breath caught as she kissed him and he marvelled at how intimate it felt when he was already inside her.
He pulled back and looked at her and touched her lips.
“Maybe this time I’ll go home, because I’m with you and I love you,” he said.
“Maybe so,” she said. “And I love you, too.”
And he bent his head and kissed her and she smiled against his lips and he buried one hand in her insane hair and pulled her closer against him and he started to move.
His arse flexing on every stroke as he drove into her, marvelling at the feeling, at the taste of her, at the contented noises she was making, at the fact that he was making love to the one woman who meant the world to him.
And, at the realisation that this time he really was making love, because he loved someone, and not trying to come and move on, his blinding climax ripped through him and everything went dark.
Ron’s voice echoed through Harry’s brain and he slowly opened his eyes.
“Ron!” Harry noticed right away that his flaccid cock was nowhere near Ron’s arse.
Showing no restraint whatsoever, Harry showered Ron’s face and neck with kisses. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. You’re more than that – you’re beautiful. And I love you more than anything.”
Blue eyes glared at him with concern. “You were acting weird before, but now you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”
Harry cupped Ron’s face tenderly and kissed him once again. “No. I mean yes. Now that I’m here with you I’m fine.” Ron still looked uncomfortable. “Just now, before you said my name, did something happen?”
Ron chuckled. “Showing your usual amount of stamina, we had sex for about four seconds before you came.”
Harry raised one eyebrow in mock anger. “Then what happened?”
“Well, now that you bring it up, it was kind of weird.”
“What was weird?”
Ron furrowed his brows and bit his lip in thought. “You came, and it seemed like you sort of passed out, except it was obvious you didn’t. You kept murmuring and it felt like you came again – like it was the longest orgasm in the history of the planet. And then I called your name and you called mine.”
“So all this took place in – what? A minute?” Harry asked curiously.
“No. It was only about five seconds, maybe ten at the most.”
“And I was here the whole time?”
Ron stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “For all ten seconds, yeah.”
“You don’t think that maybe I fell asleep and was dreaming, do you?”
Ron shook his head. “It was like you were conscious, but not paying attention. I suppose it’s possible you were asleep, but I really don’t think so. Why? Do you think you had a dream?”
Harry snuggled in, drinking in Ron’s scent and loving the feeling of Ron’s arms around him. “No, it didn’t seem like a dream to me, either. Right after I came, I was magically whisked away sort of like a Portkey, and I landed, er, balls deep in another bloke’s arse. And I didn’t realize it until it happened again, but every time I came, I’d leap through time and space into someone new. Some one who was, um, having sex.”
Ron frowned. “So you’re saying that while I thought you were here in bed with me, you were really off buggering random strangers?”
“Yeah,” nodded Harry gravely. “But not strangers. I knew all of them. And I didn’t know how to get back to you. But then I landed in Luna—”
“Christ, you were with birds, too?”
“Er, yeah. See, I’m telling you, this was really weird. Anyway, Luna called it Sweyn Forkbeard Disease—”
“Hahahaha! That’s a good one, even for her,” Ron said, laughing.
“— and she said it would continue until I leapt into someone I loved.”
Ron stilled. “So what happened?”
Harry swallowed. He hadn’t thought through how it might sound to Ron – that there was someone else out there that Harry loved. But it was Hermione, so that would be okay, right?
“I, um, ended up in, er, with Hermione.” He glanced at Ron nervously.
Ron sighed deeply with relief. “Oh. Of course.”
“And the whole time I was just thinking, ‘Ron is the one I love,’ and wanting to come home to you.”
For a few moments, they were both silent. “You realize,” Ron said, “that this sounds an awful lot like that film you made me watch about the fake Muggle wizard, where the girl kept saying ‘there’s no place like home.’”
Harry laughed. “Yeah, I reckon it does. Hermione thought I just needed to learn that there were other people besides you who love me.”
Harry was suddenly aware of Ron’s cock digging into him and realized that in Ron’s time only a few minutes had passed since Harry had dragged him to bed. There was no way he’d come yet. “But you’re the only one I want to do this to.”
He dragged his tongue along Ron’s neck and slowly kissed his way across Ron’s chest. Hardly a freckle went unkissed, and he caressed Ron’s nipples until he arched and moaned. He took ages to reach Ron’s cock, but when his mouth finally got there, it was twitching in anticipation.
Ron whimpered with need. “Harry, God…”
Harry slid a moistened finger inside Ron and curled it ‘just so’ until he found the sweet spot. Ron was panting and writhing and cursing endearments until Harry was certain he was near the edge. He sucked and rubbed and pressed until Ron trembled and exploded into Harry’s mouth.
“Ron?” Harry asked tentatively.
“You still here?”
Ron chuckled bonelessly. “I think so. But I can’t feel my toes, so they might be drifting through time and space.”
Harry crawled up along side of him. “Very funny.” He kissed Ron again. “Good. You promised you’d never leave.”
“I should have made you promise the same thing,” Ron pointed out.
“I’m never leaving you. I love you.”
“And Hermione,” said Ron with a smirk.
Harry blushed. “Well, yeah, but she’s got girl’s parts so it’s not the same.”
“Let’s not talk about Hermione’s girl’s parts, okay?”
“Right.” Harry suddenly remembered something. “Hey Ron, when did Hermione date Viktor Krum?”
“Fourth year. The Yule Ball. Don’t you remember?”
“No, I mean after that. When would she have had sex with him?”
Ron’s eyes widened, unsure of whether to ask for details. “She hasn’t seen him since. We were just talking about him the other day. Bulgaria is going to be touring, and he sent her an owl asking to see her again.”
“So she’s still dating…”
“Zacharias Smith. I don’t know what she sees in him; he’s an idiot.”
Harry smiled. “Don’t worry. I think her days with him are numbered. At least if my evening’s adventure has any basis in reality.”
“He’d better not break her heart – that’s all I’m saying.”
“There no telling what will happen, but if he does, you and I will be there to help her pick up the pieces. Together.”
“Yeah,” sighed Ron. “Together.”
shocolate’s author’s note : thank you magicofisis for suggesting we collaborate again, and on being such fun to write with; abigail89? We have been e-mailing this back and forth, writing every other scene, telling each other how much we love us and how much we love you, and I just wanted to thank you for having a birthday, because I would never have written some of these pairings! I expect everyone to leave twelve comments, one for each scene!
magicofisis’s author’s note : OMG, shocolate wrote Harry/Hermione! And the horrifying, yet poignant “Stan” section. And to dear abigail89, we tried to fit in all the ships you write, but neither of us can do Snape justice. I echo shocolate’s comment above – thanks for having a birthday. Your birthdays seem to bring out the best in our collective muses, and collaborating with shocolate is such a blast!