AN: Things gets a little dark at the beginning, but bear with it for a bit and you'll be fine (and no, this isn't a pun about anal).

Hufflepuff

"So," Ron said excitedly, "who were the lucky two?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells."

His freckled best friend gave him a disappointed frown. Harry sometimes got the impression that Ron lived his life vicariously through him.

"Seamus tells me that he is two for four, Fay and Leanne, he says. Rubbed it all over my face he did too, the git. If it weren't for Lavender…"

Ron had kept his on and off relationship with Lavender Brown from last year. Harry did not have the heart to tell him that it was likely Seamus had chosen her for his Gryffindor partner, given that the girl was not exactly 'hard', whereas Fay most certainly was. If it were not for his sense of loyalty, Harry might have even considered making a pass at her, but some things were more important than winning bets and getting laid. Which is why instead of her girlfriend he had done his sister. A perfectly reasonable compromise.

He smiled at Susan Bones, a buxom strawberry-blonde girl in his year, as they passed each other in the corridor. She smiled back, but nothing more.

This was his play for now; smile and open doors for every Hufflepuff girl he saw, and hope to see a reaction which might signal some interest. So far, it was not working all that well, but he was gaining a reputation as quite the gentleman, which might come handy at some point. Always see the bright side and all that.

"Quidditch after dinner?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts.

"Don't you have detention?" he asked Ron.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Bloody McGonagall…"

Harry slapped his friend's back with good cheer. "We can do Quidditch tomorrow mate, no worries. In fact, you go ahead, I think I left my book back at Charms."

It was not so, but he happened to know that Hannah Abbott often took to the owlery thursdays before supper, and it would be just the coincidence if he happened to need to send a letter at the same time as she did. The Owlery was not a particularly romantic place, true, but the same could not be said of the walk to and from the castle. And if it happened to be quite cold today, then all the better. He had a school robe after all, and the disposition to put it across her shoulders, if she expressed feeling but the mildest chill.

Harry backtracked, allowing the throng of seventh year students to pass him by, before turning and making for a secondary staircase, found in one of Hogwarts' many abandoned wings. He was just about to go down the steps when he heard a faint thumping from above.

Curious despite himself, Harry followed the noise, going up instead of down. He traversed the maze-like corridors, including a set of broken stairs, to find a locked classroom. It looked like any other of Hogwarts' many abandoned rooms, save for the strange rhythmic thumping sound coming from within.

The wizard examined the faded wooden carvings on the door. Even without his wand he could feel the strong magic holding it shut. He doubted even his best Alohomora would be able to pry it open, so he shrugged his shoulders and turned, at the exact moment the entrance opened ajar of its own volition, without so much as a creak.

Harry looked over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked, and thought about it for a good half a second.

"Go on then," Harry muttered, and entered. He made sure to place a conjured block of stone between the door and its frame, just in case the thing decided to close itself behind him. He wasn't that stupid.

The classroom itself was dusty, with plenty of chairs and tables piled just about everywhere, but otherwise looked pretty standard. Propped against the wall facing him however, was something that did not look as if it belonged there. It was a tall rectangular shape, covered by a large worn-out gray sheet.

Wand raised, and feeling a bit foolish, Harry pulled the covering to reveal a large mirror. It was very tall, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: ɘɿiƨɘb ƨ'Ɉɿɒɘʜ ɿυoγ Ɉυd ɘɔɒʇ υoγ Ɉon woʜƨ I.

Oddly enough, there was no reflection. Knowing that what he was doing was monumentally stupid, Harry squared in front of it, trying to divine its trick. An image swirled into life, looking remarkably like him. But the image presented was not of himself, or rather not of himself as he currently was.

Rather the mirror revealed a rather different Harry, one who was a bit taller and bulkier and

surrounded by a bevy of witches. There was Ginny, fiery haired and nude, clutching his right knee desperately, as a blonde Slytherin did likewise to his left. Luna was also in the picture, peeking saucily from behind his doppleganger, wearing only a pair of huge purple glasses. He noticed Seamus off to one side bowing reverently, and Sirius looking approvingly at the whole scene.

He had to chuckle. A bit too optimistic to be the future.

He noted that in his reflection's arms there was another witch, one which he did not immediately recognise. Dark haired, kept long, pale and also naked, save for the small choker around her neck in Hufflepuff colours, she had her arms around his neck, and her face buried in his chest.

Harry squinted his eyes. Why did that witch look so familiar? He was sure that she was not one of Hogwarts' students, and yet she looked to be around his age.

The dark haired mystery turned towards him, and Harry jumped backwards in surprise. She was looking at him right? He wasn't imagining things.

Her eyes were soft lilac, and she was saying something. Harry could not garner what she was mouthing, try as he might. 'Leave me?' 'Elixir?' 'Something me?'

What was the damn witch saying? And why did she look so familiar?

The other shoe dropped, and Harry felt as if he had been taken for a wild hippogriff ride.

"Sally Anne Perks!?"

The witch nodded desperately, tears running down her cheeks. Release me, she mouthed. Merlin, that was it. Release me.

"How?" Harry asked, his mouth working on automatic.

The dark-haired girl made the motion of breaking something, crushing her fist against her palm.

"Ok, stand back!" Harry called. Then he realised that he was a moron. "Reducto!"

The glass of the mirror shattered, and out of it came the nude Sally Anne Perks, looking far older than her eleven year old self; her age when she had completely disappeared from Hogwarts.

She fell upon him amidst a storm of sobs, 'thank yous' and peppered kisses all over his face. He took her in his arms, ignoring the avalanche of affection, and, covering her with his robes, ran towards the infirmary.

Fortunately, he did not encounter anyone that could witness his mad dash. Unfortunately, neither was Madame Pomfrey currently in her wing.

"Don't leave me," Sally Anne begged, when he turned to go and find her.

"You're safe, you're home," he soothed. "I'm just going to get Pomfrey."

But the vice-like grip she had on his hand did not loosen.

"I suppose we could also wait for her, if you want."

Sally Anne nodded with teary eyes, and that was that.

"What happened?" Harry asked, once he was reclined against the bed, Sally Anne curled around him, shivering slightly, covered only by his robes. He was no psychologist, but he had met one once, and had been told that talking about bad experiences helped to alleviate their burden. Also, he did not know what else to do.

"I fell…" she whispered in a small voice. "I fell to the other side."

Then she began trembling. Harry made soothing noises as his hand travelled in circles on her back.

"You don't have to talk about it Sally. Can I call you Sally?"

Sally Anne gave him a small smile.

"You can call me whatever you want. You saved me."

Harry felt a bit uncomfortable, but he was not about to argue with a likely traumatised girl.

"I just did what you told me, really, you did all of it yourself."

Sally Anne shook her head, and her right shoulder became exposed, as the robe surrounding her shifted.

"You don't understand Harry. I was trapped in a world of my own desires. One in which I had been born a boy, and my father loved me for it. The only way to bring me back was to be desired in turn in this world, as a girl." She began crying again. "Every week I would stand back in front of the mirror, and wish that someone would stand opposite to me and want me back, the real me, but my father would have preferred a male heir so no one ever did."

Her sobs had gotten harder now, and she buried her face into his neck.

Bugger me sideways. Harry thought. This whole situation was a bit beyond him. So the mirror of erised… made sense really, it was the word desired backwards after all. He supposed it would have made more sense if the name was actually mirrored, but that was neither here nor there.

"Your father did want you back," Harry realised with a start, remembering the school wide search back in his first year, before it was determined that Sally Anne had likely lost herself in the forest, never to be found. Dumbledore had almost lost his position over that.

He held her gently by her shoulders, and raised her chin up. "Of course he wanted you back," he repeated, "but no one ever knew that you were trapped in the mirror."

Sally Anne was red eyed.

"But then… how did you find me?"

"Luck, all the luck which you did not have when it first took you. Well, luck and…" he remembered the door opening on its own volition, "Hogwarts. Perhaps she considered enough time had passed without one of its students."

Sally Anne dissolved into further sobs and Harry hugged her, and that was how Madame Pomfrey would later find them.

~oOo~

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I really cannot say."

Professor McGonagall's normally pinched face was further pinched in annoyance, and her grip on the scrolls she was holding threatened to crush them completely. Harry knew her well enough to see that she was upset, however, rather than angry. She had taken Sally Anne's disappearance as a personal failure, and now that she was back and not, as everyone had thought, dead, doubly so.

Still Harry persisted. "Not even whether she has indeed gone home or not?"

Sally Anne's miraculous return was making waves, though not as many as he might have foreseen. In a society where the impossible was regularly made possible, all the Hufflepuff's plight had done was elicit some sympathy, and lots of owls. One of which was currently staring at them through the classroom window, leg out and letter attached, tapping the glass insistently with its beak.

"Mr. Potter, if Sally Anne is in St. Mungo's then I must refer you to the hospital. If she is in the infirmary, then you will have to speak to Madame Pomfrey. I'm afraid I cannot help you either way."

"And if she has gone back home?"

"Then I really cannot say."

Harry smiled widely at her. "Thank you Professor, you're the best. You wouldn't know where the Perks live, by any chance?"

Professor McGonagall sniffed.

"I don't write the acceptance letters myself, Mr. Potter, I just sign them. The Quill of Hogwarts has that duty."

"And the Quill would be where exactly?"

The elderly witch looked at him very severely.

"All artefacts relevant to the functioning of the school are located in the Headmaster's office. Have a good day, Mr. Potter."

"You too Professor. Thank you."

Plan in motion, Harry hurried towards his dorm, retrieving the list of all known wizarding candy and then rushed to the Headmaster's office, trusting that the elderly wizard would be away, as he often was these days.

"Chocolate grog… sherbet lemon… acid pops…"

Finally he hit the right one ('fry-flavoured lollipops'), and the gargoyle guarding the entrance moved aside. Not in the mood for pointless searches, Harry stepped inside the blessedly empty office and accioed the Quill of Hogwarts, confounding it to write the address of Sally Anne.

Perk Park. It read. Shannonbridge, Athlone, Clonmacnoise, County Offaly, Ireland.

"Bugger."

That put a stopper to his plans. He would have to rethink his transportation, as he was pretty sure the Knight bus couldn't cross an entire sea. He didn't know how to get there by broom and he couldn't apparate as he had never been there before either. A pickle, if there ever was one. Not for the first time that day Harry wondered if it would not be better if he simply sat this one out.

The image of Sally Anne's face floated to him, and her striking violet eyes. He remembered the look she had given him last time he had been allowed to see her, and the words scribbled in the parchment she had slipped into his hands.

Come visit me.

And damn him if he didn't mean to at least try.

Staring at the Headmaster's fireplace, a thought occurred to him. He thought himself foolish for even thinking of that awful bus, when in reality there was a much simpler solution. His wand flicked, fire roared. Some floo powder later, he was spinning amidst a curtain of flames towards his destination.

His exit was not very graceful. He stumbled out of a wide fireplace into a low coffee table, proceeding to fall flat on top of it.

"Young master shouldn't be here," a small voice squeaked from one side.

Harry rose with a groan. He found himself in a very unhomely living room, full of paintings and drapes and old fashioned couches, looking like an exhibit from a muggle museum more so than anyone's home. He turned to the small house elf, looking about to snap his fingers, and produced Sally Anne's note.

"Sorry to barge in like this little man, but I have an invitation, see?"

The house elf looked at him doubtfully and then at the paper in his hand, making no motion to take it from him. Harry wondered whether the elf could even read.

"Master said there was to be no visitors, young master, only healers from Mungos."

Harry drew himself in, dusting off the soot and ashes from his clothes. "Well it's hardly my fault that she invited me is it?" he said haughtily. "She will be awfully upset I imagine, she was very insistent..."

The small elf began to wrung his ears. "Tipsy must not upset little miss any further, this Master said, little miss is not feeling well..."

"Well I hope she won't feel too unwell when she learns I was here and didn't get to see her, but, ah, it's too bad. If there really is nothing to be done…" Harry paused meaningfully and Tipsy took the hint.

"Oh young master musn't be upset with Tipsy, Tipsy was just doing as Master said, but Master said also not to upset little miss, and I'm sure little miss will be glad to see young master, but young master must leave before Master comes or Master will be very upset with Tipsy and little miss, and also young master, come to think of it..."

"Tipsy?"

"Young master?"

Harry patted the elf's head. "At ease, I will be gone before Sally's father arrives."

And wasn't that the Lord's truth through and through. As far as he meant to, at least.

"Tipsy thanks young master, Tipsy will be telling Miss you are here now."

"No, no, don't bother. I wanna see if I can surprise her."

Tipsy looked at him doubtfully, but indicated the directions to her room, and Harry thanked the elf with a courteous nod.

Following his instructions, Harry crossed the hall to find a grand staircase, padded by a rug of ever shifting colours. It was pretty, if a bit disorienting, and he travelled through it to the first floor. There he found a handful of white doors accented gold, leading to a set of rooms, in a corridor punctuated by paintings and the occasional ivory statue. Harry's feet lead him to the only one which lay open. He took the unintended invitation and crossed the threshold.

His first impression was that he must have entered a small girl's room by mistake. The furniture, the curtains, even the circular rug at the center of the room were all coloured bright pink. There was even a pink dollhouse, standing opposite a large body mirror covered by a drape. Unless his mind was going, the little dolls inside were moving. He spied a blonde figurine washing her hair, and a buff shirtless man approach her from behind.

Harry took a reflexive step backwards, before a voice stopped him from leaving altogether.

"Harry!"

Sally Anne jumped from her bed where she had been reading cross legged, face slightly flushed. Despite the late hour she was in a pair of red striped pajama bottoms along with a long sleeved white top, looking like she had just gotten out of bed. Harry didn't catch the title of the book, but he did catch the wink the woman in the cover threw him, before Sally Anne hid it beneath her pillow.

Harry knocked on the open door rather redundantly, enjoying her flustered demeanour. "Hey, mind if I come in?"

"Um, maybe give me a minute? I wasn't expecting any company today."

"Of course, of course. You look great by the way." And she did. Petite, but beautiful, like a porcelain doll. She had done her hair up in a messy ponytail, and her small nose and rosy cheeks only served to highlight her startling lilac eyes. "Sorry for not sending an owl by the way," he continued, "it was a last minute thing. Nice room, though. Is it yours?"

Sally Anne blushed slightly at his compliment. "It's my old room, yes." She tracked his eyes to the large dollhouse and its occupants, who had tastefully closed the blinders to their bedroom. "I, um, still need to redecorate."

Harry tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Yeah, I see your point. Want me to wait outside then?"

Sally pulled at her bottoms slightly. "Well, at least give me a chance to change out of my pajamas, although… maybe there's no point. I'm sorry but I really can't go anywhere."

"Why's that?" Harry asked. "We could go to a pub, grab a beer or two and be back again in less than an hour. You're not busy are you?"

She shook her head. "No, but Tipsy will run straight to my dad the moment I leave the house. He's so afraid I'm going to banish again, he keeps me under lock and key all day." There was a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"Well that sucks" Harry said. He looked at Sally Anne as she fidgeted slightly on her toes. She was barefoot, he noted, and that observation somehow led him to realise just how few clothes she was actually wearing. Did she even have a bra underneath her top?

Harry tried to shake the thought out of his head, but his mouth was already running with it.

"Such a shame, came all this way, braved all those dangers, and I find the princess unwilling to go out for a pint."

Sally Anne laughed, a good sign, since the joke had been poor. "Not unwilling, as much as unable, but maybe my knight in shining armour has a solution," she teased.

Harry ignored her jab. "If we can't go out, I suppose we'll have to find some activity to do indoors."

"Oh?" Her large eyes were full of mischief. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

He stepped even closer, watching her grin widen further, creating twin dimples on her cheeks. He found her natural perfume quite enticing. He wondered whether he would be able to see her nipples poking through her top if he only just looked down.

Christ, down boy.

"How about… a game of exploding snap?"

Sally laughed, and smacked him lightly on his chest, leaving her hands there for a moment too long. "Maybe later. Come, I want to show you something."

Harry would have lied if he said he did not feel a hint of trepidation as he was instructed to sit on her bed, whilst she rummaged through her wardrobe. Especially as she leaned forward, straining the thin fabric of her bottoms over her shapely arse. By that point he was having trouble remembering the nature of his visit. Had he come to check up on her, or had he come for more? He genuinely could not remember.

"Here." She handed him a small frame, plucked from an open drawer. "I had it commissioned."

It was a portrait of a black haired young man, frozen still, if you would believe it. Despite not immediately recognising him, Harry felt him to be very familiar. Then he noticed his violet eyes, and put two and two together.

"It's you," he said. "Or, well, 'you' if you were a man. Er, so the 'you' from the mirror..."

"The Unspeakable said that it was likely a hallucination, made possible by the magic in the mirror."

Harry put the frame down. "What did it feel? You know, to wake up having a… um, to wake up as a member of the opposite sex."

Sally Anne took it from his hands as she sat next to him, making the bed creak. Her fingers skittered over the glass panel guarding the picture. "A bit weird, mostly."

"How did you… I mean, if it was all a hallucination… how did you eat 'n stuff?"

She looked at him, bemused. "That's your question?" She shook his head. "I didn't say it was all a hallucination, the Unspeakable did, but I don't believe him. I think the mirror is a portal to a different world, one almost identical to this, save for a few things."

Harry pondered on it for a few moments.

"Was there another 'version' of me?"

"I mean… yes," she said. She seemed slightly amused by his question, but hey, he was curious.

"And? Was he as good looking?"

Sally Anne laughed, and Harry winced.

"Aw, don't pout," she cooed. She put a hand to his cheek. "I didn't mean it like that. She was quite pretty, yes."

Harry's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "She?"

Sally laughed once more, this time so hard she doubled over herself, her shirt riding up her back. Harry was so riled he barely noticed.

"You're pulling my leg," he protested. "There's no way. Absolutely no chance… can you please stop laughing at me?"

Sally did so for long enough to kiss his cheek. "Don't worry about it, I much prefer the way you are now."

Slightly mollified, Harry asked the obvious follow-up.

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but why show this to me?"

Sally shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Dunno, I guess I wanted somebody else to see."

He watched her as she put the frame back, though this time she did not lean forward, depriving him of the nice view.

"Well, I shared something with you," she said. She stood in front of him with her arms on her hips, and a playful smile on her face. "Your turn. How did you find the mirror?"

"Oh, well… you know..." Harry twisted his hand in a vague circular motion. "I guess I got lost."

"Lost, uh."

Something in her tone set off warning alarms in his head. He looked up to see her stare at him with an raised eyebrow, and a slight smirk.

Harry tried not to let his emotions show on his own face. What is she getting at? Surely she couldn't know about the bet, right?

"Um, yeah, I was, uh, I was just exploring the castle, looking to..." Harry's neck began to grow hot as he withstood her blossoming smile. "Well, y'know, looking to…"

She crossed her arms underneath her chest. "Go on."

Harry looked around for a source of inspiration. He remembered what she had said all those weeks ago in the Hospital Wing, after he had rescued her. The only way to bring me back was to be desired. Had she guessed what that meant? Did she know?

He looked up to her violet eyes, sparkling with amusement. Fuck, she knew.

"Fuck," he said out loud.

Sally raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's a bit more blunt than I expected, but the answer is is the same."

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yes," she repeated.

Harry made a circular motion with his hand. "Yeah, I heard you, but what does that-"

Sally Anne sat on his lap, straddling his hips, with her chest at the height of his eyes. The wizard found that yes, yes indeed, you could see her nipples through her shirt.

"I think you can figure it out," she she took his face in her hands, and kissed him.

It surprised him, but not to the point where he was unable to circle his arms around her waist, parting his mouth slightly to deepen the kiss. She tasted great, and felt divine, warm and soft, and feminine, and any reservations he might have held died with a whimper. Not that his conscience had ever had much sway over his actions anyways, but snogging was always better without the bothersome nagging voice at the back of his mind.

She poked his tongue with hers, and then bit on his lip, and he pulled her against him, humming approvingly. She was clearly an experienced kisser, which was a bit odd for a girl that had been stuck inside a mirror for the better part of six years. Perhaps she had used it to practise, he thought, as she used her fingers to caress his scalp. He ran his fingers down her back to return the favour, and she sighed in his mouth.

There weren't a lot of words shared, for the amount of work their tongues were doing. Sitting on top of him, it was up to Sally to dictate the tempo, but that didn't mean that Harry couldn't use his hands to caress her neck, back, calves and even put a cheeky hand on her rump.

Sally did not mind, much the opposite, she began to shift slightly on his lap, gyrating her hips as she abandoned his lips to whisper little moans in his ear. It drove him mad, and he tried to capture one of her nipples through her shirt. She giggled and pulled back slightly.

They looked at each other then, and Harry hoped the desire in his eyes mirrored that in her own, for he was in no mood for words. Fortunately, Sally agreed, for she snuggled back into him to capture his lips in another deep kiss, unintentionally rubbing her bum against his groin, and bringing his erection to her notice.

"Mhmm."

It dug into his boxers as Sally began to rotate her hips once more, teasing him by taking it slow, until the wizard ran out of patience and he dropped both his hands to squeeze her bum, pulling her against him.

He groped her as they kissed, rubbing against each other. He slipped his fingers down her bottoms to dig into the soft flesh found underneath and Sally's breath hitched. She shifted again in his lap, putting one hand on his shoulders. She did not break the kiss, much the opposite, she started to slightly suck on his tongue, even as she continued to dry hump him, and Harry desperately tried not to bring up his inner caveman to the fore and start tearing off clothes.

Fortunately, it seemed Sally too was ready to move on, for she started to pull at his top insistently. They broke, flushed and breathless, in order to give him the necessary room. Harry quickly pulled off his jumper, helped by her eager hands, before unbuttoning his shirt just as rapidly, and kicking off his shoes. He let her hands run all over his chest, burning with impatience, and yet knowing that rushing would not get him closer to what he wanted.

"I knew it," Sally said with a grin. "All of you Quidditch players have such nice bodies."

"All of us, ey?" Harry had to shake his head. If living in mirrors was this much fun maybe he should give it a go.

Sally blushed. "It's not what you think." Dark bangs were falling loosely over her eyes, and she shook them off. "I was still a teenager, even in my new body. And it wasn't hard to find other boys willing to experiment, even without polyjuice."

"Let me guess. Malfoy?"

She slapped his shoulder. "Don't be mean."

"Ok. Take your top off."

She gave him a look, but complied, crossing her arms at the hem of her top and pulling it off with one smooth motion. Her tits bobbed free and Harry tried not to immediately grope them. They weren't the largest he'd ever seen, perky, more so than full, and capped by hard dark nipples, but he was hardly going to let that stop him. He gave each one of them a greeting kiss, and then went back for seconds.

She sighed at his touch. "D'you like them?" she asked.

"They're perfect," he said.

He didn't get to explore them further, however, as she pushed him back against the bed, straddling his hips, and attacking his lips once again.

Harry tried to enjoy the experience of having Sally on top of him, her breasts squishing against his chest, her tongue in his mouth. He tried to enjoy her smell, her taste, the way she grinded against him, flexing her hips in a way that indicated this wasn't her first rodeo - but all he could think of is how much he wanted to fuck her. She was making him so randy she was compromising his ability to stay in the game. He found it necessary to make his concerns known, lest the affair ended too soon.

"Easy love, take it easy."

She giggled throatily, still on top of him. "That feel good?"

"That feel great, but I don't want to finish on my boxers."

"Then take them off," she said huskily.

Fair enough.

He rolled her off him roughly, and began to unbuckle his belt. He saw her grab her wand from her nightstand and spell the bedroom door shut, as well as the window curtains, turning back to him once she was done.

The room was plunged in a semi-darkness, but it was still fairly easy to see, something which Harry used to his advantage.

"And?" Harry said. "Big enough for your Quidditch boys?"

She looked down, extending a hand to touch his length with slight fascination - and her fingers of course.

"Let's do it beneath the covers," she said with a grin. She turned to pull at them, but Harry took the presented opportunity to pull her bottoms down over her bum instead.

"Eep!"

A quick hand to her knickers (white, with pink frills) prevented them from being pulled off along with her pajamas, but it didn't deter Harry, who hooked a thumb around their waistband and gave her his sweetest smile, as she looked back in alarm over her shoulder.

"You saw mine, I get to see yours."

"Stop, stop it!" she squeaked, but she couldn't do much to indeed stop Harry, who slipped them down her smooth legs despite her resistance.

Left face down and slightly panting, Sally's body was perfectly exposed to his sight. She looked exquisite, with her pale skin and delicate back, and slightly raised bum. He could spy the pink slit of her pussy in between her arse cheeks, and what remained of his blood rushed downwards at the sight.

Harry stroked his cock, leaning down to loom lecherously over her back. "Are we doing it like this, or do you want to turn around?"

"You're such a wanker," she moaned. She rolled to face him, one knee crossed over the other. She looked so enticing, face flushed wide-eyed, breasts rising with each breath, that it almost made Harry feel light-headed with lust.

"You're so bloody beautiful," he said honestly. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." And he believed it too, at least in that moment.

Sally must have liked his words, for she parted her thighs at them, allowing him an undisguised look at her sex. She was slightly fuzzy, her pubes the same colour as her hair, but she was clearly wet and willing, and Harry needed little more. He slid in between her spread legs, caressing the outside of his thighs briefly, to rest his erection against her labia. He rubbed himself on her clit, making her moan slightly.

"Be gentle Harry," Sally said, as he positioned himself. Her words seemed to reach his brain with some delay, as if making their way through the fog of his desire. "It's my first time with this body."

Harry kissed her gently, reassuringly, and then slid inside her. She was so tight and wet and warm, and it felt heavenly, and Harry tried to focus on following her plea, sheathing himself inside her inch by inch. Sally gasped beneath him, arching her back slightly, pushing her breasts against his chest. His determination to set a gentle pace was made harder when she started to writhe underneath him, sighing and speaking his name under her breath, tossing her arms around his neck and her head back against the pillows.

"Ooh, Harry."

Harry nuzzled her neck, and pushed himself deeper. He found it then, an obstacle, a slight barrier to his motions. But the next second it was gone, and then he was all the way inside.

Sally hissed slightly, and took hold of his back with shaking hands, fingernails digging into his skin, clamping hard around him. But the pain, if there was, was momentary, and soon she was taking in deep breaths only to transform them into long drawn-out moans as he began to set a slow rhythm.

"Ohh, good, it's so good. Hmmm."

Her eyes were closed at his ministrations, and Harry kissed her neck as he rocked his hips back and forth, slowly but surely picking up the pace. Soon enough, Sally's moans became soft cries, which she tried to control by biting down on her bottom lip. Her skin glistened with perspiration, and she clutched the bed sheets, body quivering with pleasure. The sight was almost as lovely as the act itself, and Harry started counting backwards in order to prolong the experience, especially when she started to raise her hips to meet his own, making him groan in bliss.

But all good things must come to an end, and he began to piston into her, driving himself to his release. Sally writhed in ecstasy underneath him, loudly chanting his name and pushing up against the bed frame with both hands, making it rattle. Harry bit down on her shoulder and felt a familiar buildup in his balls. He was close, so close...

Which is why it was about the worst time for Sally's father to knock on her bedroom door.

"Sally Anne, are you alright?"

The two lovers froze, as if statues. There was a moment's silence, as neither dare to breathe, much less speak. Then the door rattled. For an instant, Harry envisioned Mr. Perks entering the room to find him balls deep inside his precious daughter, and the sweat trickling down his chest became considerably cooler than the one already clinging to his skin. The lock held, however and the door did not budge.

"Sally Anne?" her father repeated.

It brought them out of their shock.

"OhmyGodgettoff!" she hissed.

They scrambled away from each other, rustling the bedsheets with their movements, as the knocks grew more insistent.

"Sally Anne, open this door this instant!"

"One moment father," Sally called back shakily, as she rolled to her feet. Her legs were trembling slightly, and she looked a frightful mess, body slick with sweat and hair all over the place. Sally did not look as if she'd been snogging in the broom closet; she looked shagged rotten, and there wasn't time to do anything about it.

The girl seemed oblivious of this, motioning for Harry to hide underneath her bed, as she began digging for her clothes.

Are you serious? Harry mouthed, but she was in no mood to be gainsaid. She knelt down to put her shirt on, as Harry slid silently under her bed.

Only then did the ache of his balls begin to register and he tried not to groan. He was going to die naked as well as blue-balled, what an awful way to go.

Sally got dressed as fast as she could, not realising that her pajama bottoms had gone on inside out. He didn't have time to warn her before she was walking to the door, unlocking it slightly with a breathless, "Yes?"

Harry did not see Mr. Perks, but he did see his hand pushing the door, until it lay halfway open, the light of the hallway invading the bedroom.

"What were you doing?" he asked. "You know I don't like it when you lock yourself in."

Sally pulled on her shirt, nervously, which had begun to get stuck to her back. "I was asleep," she said. "I didn't want to be disturbed."

Harry waited for her father to call her out on her lie, but he merely put a hand to her temple. "You're very warm. Are you feeling alright?"

Sally shook herself free. "I'm not a child," she said. "And I'm fine."

Harry missed Mr. Perk's reply, as he noticed her knickers lying crumpled on the floor, under the cone of amber light cast by the open door. It wouldn't have been so bad, if it wasn't for the fact that his boxers were right by their side.

It felt almost comical, but it didn't make him laugh.

Harry looked for the wand which should have been in the pocket of his trousers, but was, in fact, not. Increasingly desperate, he tried casting a wandless and silent Accio, to absolutely no effect.

"You say you are an adult, but your behaviour indicates otherwise. You can't answer a simple question without becoming hostile- "

Mr. Perks was in the middle of a long speech, which was just as well, because it kept him distracted from looking down.

Accio. Harry mouthed, extending his fingers towards his boxers. Nothing.

"Accio," he whispered harshly. It worked, but it wasn't his boxers that slid to him under the bed, but rather, Sally's knickers.

Somehow, somewhere, Sirius Black was laughing at him

"What was that?" he heard Sally's father ask. Harry cringed. He was going to die now, not two ways about it.

"I didn't hear anything," Sally said. "Probably old age. Anyways, I want to shower before dinner, so if you don't mind..."

Harry heard Mr. Perk's disappointed sigh. "Don't be late," he said.

Sally closed her door with more force than necessary, and walked over to where Harry was hiding.

"You have to leave," she whispered, kneeling down. "Through the window. It's only the first floor, so you should be fine. Don't apparate before you're clear of the hedges or you'll splinch yourself."

Harry pulled himself out from underneath the bed, holding his pants with one hand. "Nice chap, your dad I presume?"

"Yeah. Need a hand?"

"Nah I'm alright."

Sally watched him get to his feet, licking her lips nervously.

"Hurry up and get dressed," she said. "I'll open the window."

But Harry did not hurry up, milling about the bed and collecting his clothes into a small pile, but making no move to put them on.

"What are you doing?" Sally asked, walking back up to him. The cool evening air wafted against Harry's naked torso, a sensation he didn't find unpleasant.

"Well, you know… you kinda left me halfway there, if you catch my drift."

Sally gaped at him. "You are unbelievable, Harry. My father is just downstairs. You need to get dressed, now."

"Come on," Harry said, pulling her into his arms. She smelled wonderfully of sweat and sex and it only made him want her more. "What's the worst that could happen?"

She wriggled out of his grasp. "The worst?! If my father finds us like this he's going to skin you alive and lock me inside a convent for the rest of my life."

"So what you're saying is, your father would disapprove?"

She looked at him as if he were an idiot. And then it clicked.

"You, you… umph." She crossed her arms underneath her chest, setting her jaw. For a moment it looked as if she was going to tell him to fuck off regardless, but her resistance withered as her eyes trailed his naked chest. "You're so… you're not so different from your counterpart as I thought. She also had a habit of getting what she wanted."

"What can I say, different worlds, same me." Harry put his arms around her waist once more, and this time she did not shrug him off. "What do you say?"

"You're lucky you're so handsome." Sally sighed. "Alright then, but be quick. And be quiet about it."

"Fine by me, I'll try not to make you scream."

She rolled her eyes at him, but he was already turning her towards the bed. She sat on it, and allowed him to pull off her sticky clothes, stretching her arms above her head, and lifting her knees. Without further foreplay, he spread her wide, still standing by her bed, and pushed himself inside her. A shaky breath was all that he got, and he muffled his own groan with her lips, as they did their best to fuck quietly.

It was not easy. True to his word, Harry tried to finish as quickly as he could, pushing her so that she lay on her back, placing her legs around his shoulders for a delightfully deep penetration. Sally couldn't avoid her little whimpers as Harry hit the same spot over and over again with hard fast thrusts. His cock slipped out in one such thrust and Harry had to pause to slide it back in, eliciting an honest-to-god open mouthed moan.

"Quiet love," he said smugly. Sally did not answer, muffling her moans with the crook of her elbow.

He resumed his motions, but there wasn't much time left. Finding himself near his climax once more, Harry slammed her sopping cunt as fast as he could, mindlessly rutting against her as his heartbeat thundered in his ear. It proved too much for Sally, who began to squeak out a scream before Harry muffled it with his hand. She came then, and the sensation of her spasming twat finally brought him to a climax.

"God…"

He exploded inside her, and the sensation made him almost faint, collapsing on top of her with a blissful groan. The two teenagers breathed heavily in each other's arms, enjoying the afterglow, and the sensation of their warm naked bodies against each other. There was precious little time for pleasantries, however.

"You have to leave…" Sally murmured in his neck, though she did not sound as if she wanted him to.

Harry kissed her and pushed himself up with a tired groan.

"Yeah ok, alright."

He got dressed, ensuring that her knickers remained in his pocket, and walked quickly to the window, looking down. A patch of grass met him, coloured red by the falling sun. One foot over the other, and he was on the ledge.

"Harry," he heard Sally say. He looked back to see her sitting up on the bed, still as naked as the day she was born. "Will you write?"

And there was only one answer, when she asked liked that. "Of course."

He smiled. She smiled. He jumped.

It wasn't far, and he made it down alright. Still, he did his best to keep himself close to the wall of the manor, in case her father happened to be looking out of the window. It was only when he was clear of the grass, and past the row of hedges that surrounded the grounds that he allowed himself a moment to breathe.

"What a day…" he told himself.

For some reason, his mind fixated on what Sally had said about the mirror. He admitted to himself that he was curious about how his female counterpart looked. Not enough to the point of going back to that abandoned classroom and fixing that mirror. No, that would be insane…

Harry shook his head. One house left now, that's all that mattered. He grinned. One house between him and eternal glory.

Or, well, between him and winning a bet.

AN2: What a stupid, stupid chapter. Took me forever and it's kinda problematic (which for a smutfic is saying something) but I couldn't fiddle with it for the rest of my life. Just take it as an example as to why you should not make your porn overcomplicated. Anyway thoughts, comments, prayers, pretty much anything is appreciated. Next two chapters are almost done so hopefully the waiting time won't be another… however long it has been.