Hereward's Harem

by Polydicta

Having all but lost touch with most of his friends, Harry has turned to writing, a very lucrative if lonely occupation. Of course, being Harry, he has discovered a hidden talent for writing … adult romances.

Disclaimer:

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

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Hereward's Harem

Harry was talking to his best friend in the world, Hermione Granger.

It was funny, after leaving Hogwarts, Harry had lost touch with Ron Weasley, and he had avoided Ginny Weasley. Both had pursued careers as professional quiddich players. Ginny was seeker for the Harwich Harridans, an up and coming new league team, and Ron was keeper for the recently revitalised Cwmbran Crows.

He'd kind of lost touch with Hermione who had gone on to University at Durham (St Oswald's College), they exchanged a few owls each year, and of course birthday and Christmas cards.

Harry was busy. He had decided to write down his adventures leading to the fall of Voldemort, and had discovered that he not only enjoyed writing, but that he had a flair for it too.

He was now, at twenty eight, a well respected author with his autobiography on the shelves, along with biographies of two other famous wizards, a number of factual texts that were now being used in the new Magical Technology classes at Hogwarts, and a series of novels.

Fiction was something new to the wizarding world, and Harry had written several books for adults, a dozen or so for children as well as two incredibly steamy novels for very mature wizards and witches. These last two had been written under a pen name, Hereward James Evans: Hereward's Hourglass and Hereward's Horoscope.

.

Based loosely on the James Bond character originally created by Ian Fleming, Hereward was a hit wizard who seemed to attract beautiful witches like Harry used to attract trouble.

Harry had actually written the two novels in an attempt to come to terms with his own relationship problems and his terrible social insecurities. He'd sent them to his publisher because he knew they would sell, and in giving his readership pleasure, bring him in a little extra cash, just in case he could one day find a partner willing to put up with him.

"Harry, my boy! Great to see you! Do you have yet another blockbuster for me?"

"Hi Gladstone, yes, here's the latest manuscript, as promised."

The publisher flicked through the typescript text. "I still have no idea how you have such incredible writing, your penmanship is superb. And never a blot."

Harry had tried explaining that he used a word processor, but the publisher simply couldn't comprehend.

"Right, anyway, signings. There's a change to the schedule. You won't be going to York until about November, so there's a week-long slot in October, just before Halloween. I've booked you in to a muggle hotel near Durham. Two days book signing there, one day at Calligraphon's Books the other at St Oswald's College. The rest of that week is your own, guaranteed. And you're to stay there and to see the sights."

Harry nodded, "I could do with a break, I must admit."

"Oh, and Harry my boy?"

Harry looked up.

"We want another Hereward adventure. There's a fan base who're pretty well tearing the door down wanting the next book."

Harry sighed. Defeated he said, "okay, Gladstone, I'll make a start on the next one. I wasn't going to do another, but I'll see what I can do."

.

Harry decided to read some steamy material from another author in order to get another perspective. He chose a couple of books by someone writing under the name Stacklady Charms.

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Back at his flat in Muggle London, Harry began to ponder the plot for his next sex-romp novel. He really didn't feel like writing another …

Unbidden, an idea popped into his head. Each of the two previous books had a theme relating to the title. Hourglass had twenty four encounters, one in each of the main chapters. Horoscope had twelve, one for each of the zodiacal signs, each girl like their sun sign, and …

He sketched out a few ideas and suddenly had the title, Hereward's Hereafter. He was going to have his character have an encounter with each of the girls in a harem. Each would be a … specialist.

He grinned. It was odd, he reflected, he enjoyed writing this stuff, but it didn't excite him that way, he just enjoyed creating it.

At one in the morning, he had fleshed out the plot a little, and had tentatively settled on the girls' characters.

.

In the morning, he owled Hermione, warning her that he would be heading up to Durham in October, and asking if she would like to meet up.

The rest of his day was taken up in a whirl of preparation for his international book signing tour.

The owl he got back from Hermione that evening said that she would be delighted to meet up again.

.

Durham - a strange mixture of old and new, a city perched on the walls of a gorge forming a loop in a river. Harry was, true enough, lodged in a comfortable muggle hotel, and he could walk easily into the town and, more particularly, the hidden and cramped wizarding quarter that huddled around St Oswald's College. The architecture was strange, these buildings being largely built into the valley wall.

"So, what are you doing these days? You know what I'm up to, after all."

Hermione looked at her old friend.

"Feeling lonely, a lot of the time. I've given up on ever finding a man."

Harry laughed humourlessly. "Same here, Hermione, except that I've given up on ever finding a wife … or even a girlfriend."

"That's awful Harry."

He shrugged. "Well, you know how I am, Hermione, emotional range of a bowl of cold tomato soup."

"Pardon? Where did that come from?"

"Oh, something I wrote ages back. It wasn't very good."

"You have a talent for writing, Harry. I've read all of your stuff. Your biography of Cornelius Fudge is actually on the college's required reading list."

Harry blushed.

"So, what do you actually do?"

She looked at him. "I research new charms, actually, research how and why they work, plus I have to do a bit of teaching. Why don't you come up to my office when you've finished your book-signing tomorrow?"

"I'd like that. How do I find you?"

"Oh, I'm in The Stack, just ask any student, and the fifth floor is the charms corridor."

"The Stack?"

She nodded. "It's a muggle-style high-rise built into the valley wall. It's actually the main research facility for the college, and the centre for the hard magical sciences."

"Oh … Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then."

The conversation over a few glasses of alcohol-free drinks meandered on for a while until Hermione headed home.

.

The next day, after escaping from the fans, Harry made his way to the lower entrance to St Oswald's College.

"Hi, I'm here to see Dr Granger in charms."

"Oh, the stacklady, yes, just head along there and take the lift to the fifth floor."

"Why the stacklady?"

"Ah, until last year she was the only female member of the faculty. There were plenty of witches teaching nursing and such like over in Old College, but hard magical sciences?"

The receptionist shrugged. "She was the only one. Please sign in here. Thank you Mr Potter …. oh! The author?"

Harry smiled. "I'm afraid so."

The receptionist smiled. "I think we've all enjoyed reading your books to our little ones, Mr Potter."

Harry wandered over to the lifts. The Stacklady … charms corridor. He pondered the coincidence. Not Hermione, he thought, not my very proper friend who obeys all the rules …surely not.

.

Harry arrived on the fifth floor, somewhat distracted.

"Harry?"

His head snapped up in surprise. "Hermione? Hi! I was lost there for a minute. The very strange nickname you have here."

"O-oh?"

Harry couldn't help but notice the hesitation, the … yes he recognised it, the fear of being found out.

"Are you alright Hermione? You look like peeves has just visited you in your soup!"

"N-no, I'm okay, really I am."

They entered her office.

"Is there something you want to tell me, 'Mione?"

Too quickly she replied, "no! No there isn't. Why, should there be?"

"It's just that you jumped when I mentioned your nickname. The Stacklady."

He could see her blanch.

"Well, since I seem to have uncovered your little secret, I should tell you mine."

She looked at his face. "You … you? You're Hereward Evans? I should have guessed! The comment about the emotional soup, I knew I'd read it somewhere."

She laughed. "And those adventures?"

"All fantasy. I was writing to deal with my own inadequacies, and I decided that the stuff was saleable. You?"

She was beet red by now. "Fantasies, too. I have another secret… "

"You're an exotic dancer to make ends meet?"

"No, silly. Um, I'm still a virgin, and I write smut to make ends meet. Academics doesn't pay so good. It started off with a few light romances and, well …"

"Oh, that makes two of us then."

"What, writing to make ends meet?"

"No, virgins."

"But you …and … um …? Not ever?"

"Turned her down, that's why we broke up. There was someone else who I never got together with. What about you and …?"

"He was disgusting. He was foul, but you knew that already. Now this other witch?"

"Virgo and 8pm."

"Really? Including the boots and cat-suit?"

"Not necessarily. What about you?"

"The Hit Wizard with the thing for Mistress Vanilla."

"Really?"

"Just wishful thinking."

He stepped forward and put his hands on her waist. "In which case, I have to tell you that your wish has been granted, if you'll grant mine too."

Harry lowered his lips to meet hers.

.

Hermione joined Harry on his signing tour for Hereward's Hereafter. He'd decided that Harem was wrong for the third Hereward book. There was just one more he wanted to write after that.

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Twelve months later, Hermione came out of the bathroom of their honeymoon suite to find a book in the middle of the bed. A very thin book. She opened it.

"The final instalment of the Hereward Series. In a limited edition of one copy. Hereward's Harem.

She turned to the first page and read a remarkably accurate description of this room. It was about half a page of text.

.

… The door opened and a woman entered. Hereward looked and the question hung in the air.

He noticed the time, it was 8pm.

"Good evening Mr Evans, I'm Stacklady Charms, I'm a Virgo and I'm here to answer your prayers."

Hereward gasped, and replied, "I can see you are …"

He decided that this was The One. They kissed, and they knew.

- - - End - - -