Harry's trunk was packed and ready to go. He had thrown school books and clothes into it, the items almost overflowing as he added robes and Qudditch gear. His broomstick and Hedwig's empty cage rested next to it. Harry had let his owl fly ahead, and no doubt she was already at the Burrow, enjoying the comforts of the mice that ran around outside that wonderful house. Everything was ready for Harry's departure, just as Dumbledore had instructed. The Headmaster would be arriving shortly at Privet Drive. The only items Harry hadn't packed were his wand and his Invisibility Cloak, as suggested by Professor Dumbledore, and his photo album.

The latter was currently opened in front of Harry. He had turned to a photograph that Bill had taken at Grimmauld Place. The oldest of the Weasley boys had returned last Christmas with a wizard camera in hand. 'It comes in handy when you're cracking codes and curses,' he had explained one day over breakfast. Bill's plan was simple. While everyone worried about Mr. Weasley at Mungo's, Bill worried about everyone else's morale. He was just old enough to remember the last war and he explained to Harry and the others that what people needed most was to remember their friends and their family. So, throughout the Christmas period, he took as many photographs as possible and handed them out like candy.

Bill probably didn't expect for the photos to be used quite like how Harry had been, though. Sitting on the edge of his bed, pants around his ankles, Harry's hand moved up and down his throbbing cock as he watched the scene in front of him. It was in the kitchen of the old Black house. The actual photo had contained a roomful of smiles, various members of the Order and the Weasley clan grinning at the camera. Harry had managed to convince most of them to bugger off, though. Some he had to threaten with permanent disappearance, such as Molly and Mad-Eye Moody. Others, he gently hinted as to what his purpose was. The image of Sirius, who Harry still found hard to look at without remembering that moment by the Veil, merely nodded with a sly wink and a thrust of his hips. Eventually, the photo only contained the kitchen, the long wooden table, and Harry and Hermione.

The table turned out to be a useful presence for the couple in the picture. Hermione was currently bent over it, her naked breasts against the wood, as Harry took her from behind. The real Harry, cock in hand, eyes wide, was a relatively innocent boy, even if he did not currently look it. He only had the barest understanding of sex. Therefore, what Hermione and himself was doing in the photograph came as a considerable surprise to him. After taking him into her mouth, bobbing her mouth up and down as she stared at the real Harry through the photo, Hermione had stood up and bent over the table. Her hands reached behind her, found the round globes of her backside, and spread them apart. Within a second, the photo Harry stood behind her and eased his cock inside her. Except, he aimed higher than usual. The tip of his shaft pressed against his best friend's tightest hole, and Harry forgot to breathe as he watched himself slide his cock inside Hermione Granger's round ass.

Harry had never thought about anal sex before, but now confronted with the idea of fucking Hermione's bottom, it was all he could think of. His hand moved faster, imagining what it would feel like, trying to picture it for real as he watched the photograph in front of him. It looked so lewd, so obscene, and sexy the way his cock spread apart her thick, pale cheeks and pushed inside her tight opening. Even with such a view, Harry found his eyes wandering, instead locking onto Hermione's face. She looked divine. She was flushed with pleasure. Her eyes were wide and her teeth constantly dipped into her lip, biting down on the pinkness. Harry longed to make the real Hermione pull such faces.

In fact, it was becoming overwhelmingly obvious to Harry that he longed to make Hermione feel all sort of things: loved, desired, happiness. His chest felt several sizes too small for his heart. He marveled at how he never realized these things before. She was so smart and kind, always keeping an eye out for him. She was there for him, but she had her own life as well. She was perfect and, as Harry recently discovered, she was amazingly sexy as well.

With a grunt, he reached his limit and spilt himself into an old pair of underwear. The photo seemed unconcerned. Harry took Hermione's hips in his hand, thrusting harder, making her ass jiggle with each slap of his hips. The real Harry closed the album before he would be tempted to continue staring and renew his stroking. That was the only problem with his new form of entertainment. The photographs' sexual hunger far surpassed even his own. In fact, nearly every photo he had of Hermione was now in a permanent state of undress. They seemed unwilling to put their clothes back on and return to something approaching normal. For now, Harry didn't really see that as a problem, but he knew further down the line he'd have to find a way to fix it.

No sooner had he managed to pull his pants up, and wrap a belt around his waist, did all the lights in the street disappear. Harry rushed to the window and saw the familiar sight of a tall, wiry looking man with a long white beard strolling toward his house. A minute later, Harry had managed to heave his trunk to the top of the stairs, photo album safely packed inside, and bounded down the steps to open the door for his headmaster.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore beamed. "I'm so glad you seem to be keeping cheerful." Harry hadn't realized it, but he had been grinning non-stop for the past week. "I had worried that this summer would be a particularly hard one."

The Boy-Who-Lived barely managed to suppress his snort. That was one way of describing his summer.