Harry Potter: The Gryffindor Sex God
Every morning he walked into the Great Hall like a man who just had one, fucking passionate night of sex. Well usually he WAS that man (that is, if you believed the rumors). No woman, man, or teacher alive (or ghosts for that matter), could resist Harry Potter.
The Gryffindor Sex God.
It really wasn't a matter of who could or couldn't resist him; more like whom in their right mind would want to? With charcoal black hair that blunted a little past his ears, that, when carelessly pushed back and added with those killer velvet lips. When he stared right. Into. Your. Eyes, who wouldn't drop everything for a quick shag? Any location would be fine, thank you! He had a way of piercing you with that handsome gaze that at that moment you felt like the only person that existed and the only person that had ever mattered. Hell, not even his best friend Ron could resist him.
Ron? You might ask. Ron? THE Ron? Mr. "I'm as straight as an arrow" Ron? Well, THAT really wasn't planned. It was planned as much as any other sexual rendezvous were planned. Ron and Harry had been at Hogsmeades after a particularly fantastic thrashing of the Slytherins in a not-so-nice Quidditch match. They, along with the majority of the Gryffindor house, were there for a victory celebration. After a couple dozens of butter beer. things got. 'intimate,' well that is if you wanted to under exaggerate things. Ron and Harry were banned for nudity in public. and well. you get the picture.
Notice the word "were"? Well our friend Harry paid the owner a little private visit.
People always say that 'Gryffindor Sex God' is just a euphemism for 'Slut.'
Harry Potter. How could HE be a sex god? He was The Boy That Lived for crying out loud! Exactly. You didn't really think someone with that much celebrity status wouldn't put it to 'good use?' Harry was the epitome of a celebrity in the wizarding world. He could have anyone he wanted.
And did.
Oh did he ever. But he wasn't as omnisex as you think, he did have his certain lines he refused to cross. No animals would be involved, no Snape (boy was Professor Snape mad when he found THAT out), No Hagrid, No Dumbledore. oh, and he wouldn't shag any goblins. They were a little to small for his liking. But he did let them give him the occasional head. I mean, he had to be fair.
So that's how the story lays; the famous Harry Potter is the Boy Who Fucked.
The Gryffindor Sex God.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Well YOU look like you didn't sleep at all last night.who was it this time?"
"Hermoine, my dearest and most beloved friend, why ever would you say something like THAT?" Harry couldn't have been more sarcastic.
"Let's see," she ticked off the reasons on each of her long fingers, "The unbuttoned shirt, You hair is messier than usual, The disgustingly smug look on your face.Oh, and lets not forget the smell of cheap perfume that lingers around places you've been far longer than you ever would." Hermoine got really disgusted with Harry sometimes. She always thought he could do so much more with his life. Being the optimist she was, she just wanted to believe that it was the constant pressure of being famous that led him to do the unspeakable things he did, but deep damn inside she knew he was just a horny fool. "I repeat, Harry, Who's heart did you break now?"
"Hermoine."
"Ok. let me guess!! Tell me. guy or girl?"
"Hermoine."
"I think it had to be a girl since you smell like cheap perfume." She paused and pretended to look deep in thought as she put her index finger on one temple and scrunched her eyes closed. "Ummm.Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?"
"Hermoine! Honestly! Stop with the over-protective mother mode! I get it, alright?" Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. "For your information, it was a Gryffindor. Her name is Jessica. AND we did NOT shag. It was all foreplay. you act like I have shagged everybody in the school."
"You're not very good at lying. I thought that would be the one thing you would have learned by now Harry. Sit down and eat some thing for Merlin's sake. We have to work on our Transfiguration and Potion homework."
"Have you seen Ron?" asked the inky haired man rather distractedly.
"That is way off subject of homework, but if you must know, he is at the Quidditch field." She never raised her eyes from the thick potion book she had propped up in front of her.
"What's he doin' there?" her mumbled around a piece of toast.
"I don't know. do I look like his mother to you?"
They both had to laugh at that one. Every one knew very well that Hermoine was everybody's second mother. She kept most of the Gryffindors in line. Like Harry for instance. After he defeated Voldemort, Harry became so much more popular than he used to be, if that was at all believable. And frankly, he let it all go to his head. He started sleeping around and neglecting his schoolwork. Hermoine could handle the raging hormones, but to deliberately not do your schoolwork! Well, that was a mortal sin in her book, and she was not about to let Harry slack off, ESPECIALLY since it was his last year at Hogwarts.
Harry and Hermoine sat and ate their breakfast on that beautiful Saturday morning, for once almost devoid of all disruptions. Though it was hard to enjoy the meal with Snape along with dozens of giggling girls and boys walking past the pair. Harry just beckoned them on with a suave smile. Hermoine could have sworn she saw him smiling at his reflection in his spoon.
As usual, Hermoine became irritated.
"Well, when you are done being an arse, I will be in the library studying. I expect you there in no more that 20 minutes."
Hermoine passed a hand between Harry's stare and the spoon he held in his hand, waving it in a vain attempt to break his own spell. She slammed her books closed with an obvious growl. She stormed out of the Great Hall, her hopes not high that she'd be seeing her narcissistic friend anytime soon.
Harry just sighed
"P.M.S."
Every morning he walked into the Great Hall like a man who just had one, fucking passionate night of sex. Well usually he WAS that man (that is, if you believed the rumors). No woman, man, or teacher alive (or ghosts for that matter), could resist Harry Potter.
The Gryffindor Sex God.
It really wasn't a matter of who could or couldn't resist him; more like whom in their right mind would want to? With charcoal black hair that blunted a little past his ears, that, when carelessly pushed back and added with those killer velvet lips. When he stared right. Into. Your. Eyes, who wouldn't drop everything for a quick shag? Any location would be fine, thank you! He had a way of piercing you with that handsome gaze that at that moment you felt like the only person that existed and the only person that had ever mattered. Hell, not even his best friend Ron could resist him.
Ron? You might ask. Ron? THE Ron? Mr. "I'm as straight as an arrow" Ron? Well, THAT really wasn't planned. It was planned as much as any other sexual rendezvous were planned. Ron and Harry had been at Hogsmeades after a particularly fantastic thrashing of the Slytherins in a not-so-nice Quidditch match. They, along with the majority of the Gryffindor house, were there for a victory celebration. After a couple dozens of butter beer. things got. 'intimate,' well that is if you wanted to under exaggerate things. Ron and Harry were banned for nudity in public. and well. you get the picture.
Notice the word "were"? Well our friend Harry paid the owner a little private visit.
People always say that 'Gryffindor Sex God' is just a euphemism for 'Slut.'
Harry Potter. How could HE be a sex god? He was The Boy That Lived for crying out loud! Exactly. You didn't really think someone with that much celebrity status wouldn't put it to 'good use?' Harry was the epitome of a celebrity in the wizarding world. He could have anyone he wanted.
And did.
Oh did he ever. But he wasn't as omnisex as you think, he did have his certain lines he refused to cross. No animals would be involved, no Snape (boy was Professor Snape mad when he found THAT out), No Hagrid, No Dumbledore. oh, and he wouldn't shag any goblins. They were a little to small for his liking. But he did let them give him the occasional head. I mean, he had to be fair.
So that's how the story lays; the famous Harry Potter is the Boy Who Fucked.
The Gryffindor Sex God.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Well YOU look like you didn't sleep at all last night.who was it this time?"
"Hermoine, my dearest and most beloved friend, why ever would you say something like THAT?" Harry couldn't have been more sarcastic.
"Let's see," she ticked off the reasons on each of her long fingers, "The unbuttoned shirt, You hair is messier than usual, The disgustingly smug look on your face.Oh, and lets not forget the smell of cheap perfume that lingers around places you've been far longer than you ever would." Hermoine got really disgusted with Harry sometimes. She always thought he could do so much more with his life. Being the optimist she was, she just wanted to believe that it was the constant pressure of being famous that led him to do the unspeakable things he did, but deep damn inside she knew he was just a horny fool. "I repeat, Harry, Who's heart did you break now?"
"Hermoine."
"Ok. let me guess!! Tell me. guy or girl?"
"Hermoine."
"I think it had to be a girl since you smell like cheap perfume." She paused and pretended to look deep in thought as she put her index finger on one temple and scrunched her eyes closed. "Ummm.Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?"
"Hermoine! Honestly! Stop with the over-protective mother mode! I get it, alright?" Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. "For your information, it was a Gryffindor. Her name is Jessica. AND we did NOT shag. It was all foreplay. you act like I have shagged everybody in the school."
"You're not very good at lying. I thought that would be the one thing you would have learned by now Harry. Sit down and eat some thing for Merlin's sake. We have to work on our Transfiguration and Potion homework."
"Have you seen Ron?" asked the inky haired man rather distractedly.
"That is way off subject of homework, but if you must know, he is at the Quidditch field." She never raised her eyes from the thick potion book she had propped up in front of her.
"What's he doin' there?" her mumbled around a piece of toast.
"I don't know. do I look like his mother to you?"
They both had to laugh at that one. Every one knew very well that Hermoine was everybody's second mother. She kept most of the Gryffindors in line. Like Harry for instance. After he defeated Voldemort, Harry became so much more popular than he used to be, if that was at all believable. And frankly, he let it all go to his head. He started sleeping around and neglecting his schoolwork. Hermoine could handle the raging hormones, but to deliberately not do your schoolwork! Well, that was a mortal sin in her book, and she was not about to let Harry slack off, ESPECIALLY since it was his last year at Hogwarts.
Harry and Hermoine sat and ate their breakfast on that beautiful Saturday morning, for once almost devoid of all disruptions. Though it was hard to enjoy the meal with Snape along with dozens of giggling girls and boys walking past the pair. Harry just beckoned them on with a suave smile. Hermoine could have sworn she saw him smiling at his reflection in his spoon.
As usual, Hermoine became irritated.
"Well, when you are done being an arse, I will be in the library studying. I expect you there in no more that 20 minutes."
Hermoine passed a hand between Harry's stare and the spoon he held in his hand, waving it in a vain attempt to break his own spell. She slammed her books closed with an obvious growl. She stormed out of the Great Hall, her hopes not high that she'd be seeing her narcissistic friend anytime soon.
Harry just sighed
"P.M.S."