Kissing Hunger.
By Ran Mouri.
The first time had been an accident, Slytherins and Gryffindors had been given an all seeing draugt during potions and since said potion had been made by a distracted professor, all class had ended up blind.
Then, Hermione, Merlin bless her soul, had suggested it was an interesting experience to get to know eachother, without houses to hide behind, and performed a voice altering charm, now no one could tell who they were talking to.
And impromptu party had erupted, house elves had brought food which had been devoured until all thoughts of gluttony assaulted the students.
Harry was happy.
From their indulgent gluttony they had jumped immediately to satisfy their curiosity. Someone had asked someone else, merlin, he wished he knew who was talking right now, about his or her greater fear. The boy, he had a boy's voice, had stated that he feared his father the most, for his father had lost his mind during the war, and now was a dangerous individual.
Many shared their own experiences of post-war trauma.
A small hand took hold of Harry's.
"Sorry, I just..." a timid voice said in his ear.
"It's ok..." he answered gently.
The improvised party went on.
Suddenly someone told the house elves to bring alcohol, they were all adults anyway. And as all teenagers with alcohol, their little party had escalated to drinking games.
"Spin the bottle is so muggle," someone whined. "We are blind, how will we know where it lands?"
"We charm the bottle so the couple is directed to kiss?" another suggested. Cheers of agreement rose.
The timid person was still clinging to his hand. And Harry wished they were still in the gluttony part of their party, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of that small hand letting go of his.
"Ok, thirteen, spin" someone said. They had all decided to name themselves as numbers, to keep track of each and everyone. Harry took the bottle, guided by Dobby, and let it roll, his hand sweaty against his timid partner's.
Suddenly the charm on the bottle guided him to his left, the timid hand tightened on his, and he found himself kissing someone with soft lips. The timid hand took hold of his sleeve and one of his hands lost itself in silky hair.
Oh, the taste... sweet, sweet ambrosia...
Who needed their gluttony fest when they had this delicious lips?
"Hey, thirteen, let go of forty!" someone laughed and Harry suddenly remembered where he was, the timid hand, forty's hand released his clothing and a small tongue licked suddenly dry lips, against his own.
He let out a shaky breath.
"Woah..." he said.
"Thank you," Forty giggled.
"Hey! I want a go with Forty too!" number Six, said.
"Yeah!" cheered number Twenty Eight, "Go Forty!"
Harry growled and wrapped possessive arms around number Forty, feeling a new surge of gluttony inside of him, not for the food though, but for those lips.
"Forty's mine!" he growled out.
The rest laughed.
All too soon had they been discovered by Headmistress McGonagall, scolded like first years and then apparated to their respective dorms, where their heads of house had given them a cure for their temporary blindness. Harry sighed, burying his head on his pillow, still ravenous for another taste of number Forty's delicious lips.
"Gluttony, huh?" he whispered as he ran a finger over his lips.
"Harry?" asked Ron as he stared at his best friend. "Are you ok?"
"Such a delicious sin..." he sat up suddenly, his eyes determine. "I need to find number Forty, Ron."
Ron shook his head.
DEAR NUMBER FORTY
I KNOW YOU FELT THE SAME I DID, AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR KISS, HELP ME CURE MY GLUTTONY. MEET ME AFTER DINNER BY THE LAKE.
LOVE
THIRTEEN.
Harry smiled proudly at his message before placing a sticking charm on it and putting it on the door to the Great Hall. Number Forty would surely see it and find a way to meet him without revealing his or her identity.
His mouth watered at the thought.
Ron and Hermione looked at eachother for a second before sighing. Harry was a lost case after all.
Harry stared at their dinner that night, his stomach twisting.
"Are you ok, Harry?" Harry asked. "You haven't touched your food."
Harry just shook his head. How was he supposed to tell his friend that he was afraid of eating anything that would make his kiss unpleasant for his lovely number Forty?
Ron laughed as he wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Harry is hungry for something else, aren't you mate?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Is this about your newfound gluttony and number Forty?" she asked annoyedly.
Harry nodded.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "You are worrying over nothing."
Harry smiled.
It was midnight when Harry heard someone approaching, his heart was beating madly and the gluttony that had taken hold of him since the party made his mouth water.
"Forty?"
"Close your eyes!" answered a voice, a figure hidden by a cloak, approached him slowly.
"Ok, ok, eyes closed!" he said instantly, fearing Forty might leave.
Small hands caressed his cheeks.
"Don't open your eyes," the voice whispered.
"I want to see you..." Harry said. The person kissed him gently, Harry moaned.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open.
"GINNY!! YOU ARE NOT NUMBER FORTY!" he yelled pushing the girl away angrily.
Harry sighed.
Since he had posted his message, every girl had appeared for the date, he had kissed them but none had been his number forty. He feared Forty did not like him.
"Maybe Forty is not a girl, Harry," Hermione said suddenly.
"A boy?"
"Or you'd rather have a house elf to calm your gluttony?" Harry paled.
"Hermione!!"
"Forty is a boy," said Neville with a small smile. "I kissed him too." Harry's eyes widened, he remembered that number Five had kissed Forty before he did, but he never thought Neville was Five.
He didn't like that thought, though.
He was tired, he was frustrated, he was about to cry. He had asked all the boys he knew, if they were number forty. 20 of them had agreed and kissed them. And no, none of them were the sweet Forty that inflamed his gluttony to such extent.
"Dobby is not so sure, Harry Potter sir," the house elf trembled as he took the vial from Harry's hands. . Harry cackled madly.
"NO! DOBBY!! NUMBER FORTY IS MINE!! IF HE WON'T SHOW HIMSELF I'LL FORCE HIM TO!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAA!! JUST SLIP THREE DROPS OF THIS IN EACH GOBLET!!"
Dobby's ears dropped.
Harry kept sending furtive glances during breakfast and terminally refusing to drink his usual pumpkin juice. Hermione sent him off glances now and then, but most of the time, kept to herself. Ron was wolfing his breakfast gluttonously, not paying attention at all.
When breakfast was about to end and the first students rose from their seats, Harry shot up, put his wand to his throat and shouted.
"NUMBER FORTY!! RAISE YOUR HAND!!"
Everyone looked at him. Harry grinned, finally his gluttony would be satisfied.
Suddenly a pale hand raised, much to its owner's horror.
"Potter, gah! Let go of mee!!" screamed Draco Malfoy while he was dragged towards the lake. Harry was grinning like a fool, arms tightly secured around the blond's waist, lips attached gluttonously to his neck.
"You taste good here too," he moaned. "can't wait to find out all the flavors you have."
Neville stared at them as they passed. Using Veritaserum to lure Malfoy out had been clever, as clever as covering his eyes while the potion exploded.
He wondered if anyone had noticed how timid and quiet Draco had become after being harassed by Neville.
"It was good while it lasted," he sighed.
"POOOOOTTEEEEEEER!!"
The End.
