" - the foot fetish thing was admittedly a bit unexpected though." Harry concluded. She had missed what he had been saying so she just made a small sound of agreement, with all the conviction of a stoned Hufflepuff. Her cheeks began to blush as she realised that her wetness was beginning to escape her, fishy runoffs that were beginning to moisten her third-hand thong. She turned away, her eyes wandered across the room until they eventually rested on the bed.
The four firm posts of the bed stood as tall as they ever had, though the knobs atop them had seemed so much larger the first time she had tried to mount one. She recalled fond memories of summer sleepovers she'd had with Hermione in that bed, her mahogany clunge just inches from her own redwood slot.
"Hey Harry, remember those summers we all spent here in the last few years?"
"Yeah, it was fun hanging out with you all. Ron was interesting to share a room with though. God, the smells."
"I was always disappointed that Mum didn't let you sleep in my room with me and Hermione."
"So was I, I always wondered what you two got up to during those hot nights."
Harry's mind returned to fantasies he'd had of the two of them. He'd often imagined all the things they could have been getting up to together. How Ginny's fiery bush would look with Hermine's dark, skinny fingers teasing into the tight hole below it, like the trunk of a tree with red leaves atop it. Of course, he'd whomped his willow with Ginny many times, it was Hermione he had yet to make his subservient little house elf. The thought of her body excited him, engorging his massive phallus like an elephant's trunk unfurling.
"Nothing too exciting, I promise." Ginny replied coyly.
She tried to suppress the smile forcing its way across her face like a lecturous old man attempting to force bills into a stripper's sweaty thong as she tries to make her abused body appeal to the sad men who watch, their whiskey stained breath filling the room with an air of regret and an unavoidable knowledge that at least one of them will be dead within a year, their alcohol riddled liver broken after decades of trying to drink away their problems.
She knew Harry was turned on by the thought of Hermione, it was obvious from how much his bulge grew whenever she came up in conversation, but she'd never told him how much of that black pudding she had enjoyed, it would have made him far too jealous.
Harry turned to Ginny, a sly smile on his face, and lust in his eyes. He pulled out his wand - and penis - in one smooth, practiced motion.
"Levicorpus".
With a swift upward flick and a green flash, Ginny was helplessly floating in front of him. This wasn't the first time he had done this. She knew what was coming, and she wanted it. Harry pushed her towards the bed, positioning her above one of the bedposts. He pulled up her dress, revealing her taut, round buttocks. He slid her thong over them and down her legs, which were as hairless as a naked mole rat. Her drippings fell onto the knob directly beneath her. He slowly forced her down onto the bedpost, screwing her in like a sexy lightbulb, already turned on. Tonight, Harry wouldn't need Felix Felicis to get lucky.