Hi everyone!

We're starting out with a bit of angst and smut, and then we're rolling right into the stag party.

I want to thank all my supporters for being so kind :) A lot of people comment regularly on my stories and I love reading everyone's thoughts, it keeps me motivated and makes me appreciate this so much more!

Love, Flora

Chapter 19: How Hermione and Harry witnessed the ending of an engagement

Harry had expected Hermione to say many things when they both woke up that morning. Among the options were "Come on Harry, it won't be that bad!" and "We're going to make the best of it", all varying in encouraging tones that he was so used to from Hermione. Instead, he got a deep groan, a whine, and then two hands who desperately clawed at his clothed chest.

'It's Saturday again, isn't it?' Hermione asked, with a thin voice.

'I'm afraid it is,' Harry replied, with a tone that would have been fitting at a memorial service.

'I suppose there's no way to skip past the next couple of hours without actually having to live through them?'

Harry chuckled at their shared misery and shook his head.

'Afraid not, Hermione. But... You know, I might be able to give you something to keep you going for the next few hours.'

Hermione looked at him, her beautiful brown eyes still stained with sleep and he closed the space between their lips gently, grazing her bottom lip with his teeth. She smiled, he could feel that against his lips, and he smoothly stroked his tongue against hers. She moaned in his mouth, a sound that shot straight to his groin, and he groaned in response, as he bucked against her.

'I want to taste you,' he said, more confidently than he actually felt, grinding his slowly growing erection against her body. 'Is that okay?'

Hermione purred and pulled his lips against hers more intensely this time. They both didn't taste great - they had just woken up, after all - but still Harry appreciated the sensation of how their tongues touching each other made his belly flutter and his limbs tingle. Kissing her was still as great as the first time, and he would never grow tired of it. Her hands settled possessively on his neck and shoulders and Harry loved how whole he felt with her body pressed up firmly against his. He also scolded himself yet again on how stupid it was that they had not made this move years earlier.

Hermione let go of his lips, producing a soft gasp at the loss of his touch, and nodded.

'You can taste me. But I want to taste you, too.'

Harry loved the lustful look she gave him, although he sensed a bit of shame as well. He understood - being sexually active and being open about it, admitting to wanting to do these things with words, was not something Hermione was used to.

'That can be arranged,' he replied, smugly, trying his best to show her how much he appreciated her. 'I love you, you know that?'

They tried to come up with a good position on how to accomplish their goal - as Harry laid on top already, Harry turned around and they shimmied out of their underwear and T-shirts, but the position was awkward and not very pleasant. They laughed about it as they switched, so Harry lay on his back and Hermione lay on top of him, facing his crotch. It was still awkward, and it was foreign to both of them, but this position worked better immediately, as Hermione took Harry inside her mouth quickly, making Harry moan. Having her mouth around him felt so amazing. The first time he experienced it, he had been in awe of how warm and hot and wet it felt. And her tongue, Hermione's tongue - she exceeded all expectations and he had come too quickly, without a proper warning, but Hermione didn't mind. She was eager to please him, eager to make him feel good - maybe that's why they worked so well together. That's who they were as people - they wanted to please the other, wanted the other to succeed and thrive.

Harry had to do his best to not focus so much on what Hermione was doing - which was, as it always was, close to divine. He settled his hands on the outside of her thighs, bringing her core closer to his face. He slowly opened her folds with his tongue, enjoying the taste of her on his lips, and he soon found a rhythm in his ministrations that had Hermione hum around his member. It was too much - the feeling of her mouth around him, the feeling of her juices in and around his lips - he didn't know where to focus and what to enjoy the most. Hermione seemingly agreed, because when Harry opted for a faster pace, lapping at her steadily, she dropped him out of her mouth and moaned deeply.

'Can't... Harry, it's too... Harry!'

Harry grinned against her, delighting in the fact that she had caved in first, diving deeper into her center to continue his soft laps at her clitoris. She panted, gave in to the feelings that washed over her and Harry felt her muscles contract against his mouth. It made him feel powerful, dominant, and he continued and continued, until Hermione was a blubbering mess of pants and moans and pleas. Merlin, he loved when she pleaded, and when her climax was done, he turned her onto her back, climbing on top of her again, kissing her temple, her forehead, her nose, her soft, peachy lips. Hermione's eyes were half open, half closed, and Harry didn't think he'd ever seen something so pretty.

Slowly his kissed trailed to her belly. He wanted to taste her again, wanted to make her do that again, and when Hermione told him she wouldn't be able to take it, he looked at her sternly, emboldened by the powerful feeling that still coursed through his veins.

'You can,' he said. 'I want you thoroughly satisfied, Hermione.'

Hermione made an "unff"-sound when he kissed her privates again, but she quickly pushed his head deeply between her legs, tugging at his hair. He loved it when Hermione was a bit rougher - it meant that she was letting loose, that she was letting the heat take over her body. It aroused him, thinking about how she wanted him, how she loved him, as he entered her with one finger, pumping in and out of her body slowly, grazing and curling his finger against the spot he knew would make her lose it again. It didn't take long for her to reach another climax, clawing at Harry's head, pushing him so deeply into her center he wasn't able to breathe. When she finally let go of him, and pulled him against her, his lips were sore and his mind was full. They snogged, for minutes and minutes and minutes, and as she tasted herself on his tongue, Harry couldn't help but feel so... fulfilled. This is what he had craved all those months, when he felt so alone and so vulnerable. To feel cherished, to feel complete. Here, in Hermione's arms, everything was right. And he realized that if he just focused on that, nothing could go wrong. That Hermione would always be there for him.

'Don't leave me,' he heard himself whisper against her shoulder, shuddering involuntarily. He meant so much more with that sentence, but he couldn't explain how hurt he had been after the war, how all the deaths of his friends and loved ones had been crushing down on him, how the responsibility of rebuilding their world had felt a burden too heavy to bear. How he was sorry that he had pushed that all away, how he pushed his own feelings away, just because feelings had been scarring him for so many years. She pulled him closer against him, rubbing his back, kissing his forehead and his scar.

'Never,' she replied. And he knew she understood.

They cuddled for at least fifteen minutes, before Hermione turned her attention to Harry's body, and Harry allowed her to explore him, because he trusted her with his life, with his body, with everything he had and everything he was. When he showed her how much he enjoyed her hands, and that he didn't care that she popped his testicle in his loins again by accident, and that he didn't care she pulled too hard on his foreskin again because of her enthusiasm, she became more confident, paying close attention to Harry's reactions. He relaxed, let the feelings take him to another level of intimacy, and felt his orgasm wash over him, wave after wave after tantalizing wave, and he didn't care that he made weird noises, and he didn't care that he made a mess, and he didn't care that his face looked ridiculous and that he was so exposed, because it was Hermione.

He was too far gone for at least a few minutes, until the stars that blurred his vision faded, his breathing evened, and he felt feeling returning to his limbs. He realized he was smiling - an intense, broad smile, and he sensed that Hermione lay pressed up against his chest, placing small kisses on the scar that the locket had left there, all those years ago.

'Hermione,' he said, with a coarse voice. 'I... I think I want to have intercourse with you, next time.'

He opened his eyes and saw Hermione's gaze, enamored by his looks and his words, and she understood and smiled.

'I would like that very much, Harry.'

They kissed, tongues slowly dancing against each other, basking in the afterglow of what had just occurred. He wanted to, he realized. He wanted to, on his own accord, and this would be the first time that he would do it like it was supposed to: not to forget, but to remember. He wanted to remember her, her body against his, he never wanted anything else but to remember how they would become one. It was such a freeing feeling, that he didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he opted for another shudder, for Hermione's embrace, and he pressed her so closely against him that he knew she would have trouble breathing for a few seconds, but he needed her to know.

They decided it would happen tomorrow. Was he scared? Yes. Was he also really looking forward to it? Yes. He just hoped everything would go right.

Then they got out of bed, took a quick shower together, and made breakfast. The reality of the fact that he would spend the rest of the day with Philip and his toffee-nosed pals was annoying, but when Hermione made a joke about the rest of the day and how they managed to still mess up their lives, even without a Dark Lord to conquer, Harry felt blissful. This whole situation was a mess, but it had given him her. He would endure weeks of torture by Hermione's agonizing family for the same outcome.

At least, so he thought at breakfast, when he was still on his post-orgasm high, talking with his favorite person in the world and had delicious scrambled eggs to fill his stomach.

By 8 P.M., the tables had turned. Harry was absolutely miserable.

It began at 10 AM, when Harry had met the group, and they had decided that they all needed to wear themed outfits. Harry had no idea this was a thing during a Stag Do, but Philip's best man had arranged for all of them to wear pirate costumes, because some Muggle movie in 2003 had apparently made pirates "cool" again. Harry felt uncomfortable in his large embroidered jacket, his neck tie was itchy, the boots they had given him were a bit too tight and hurt his feet. Philip's friends dressed the stag in the clothes of the main character of the franchise and they had great joy in applying a bit too much eyeliner. It became very clear that Harry was an outcast and would not be allowed into their "social circle", as Grandma Eugenia had hoped. Philip's friends all knew each other and they had for a very long time now. All their parents occupied successful jobs, had lots of money to burn and the most of them had met during college - they all went to Cambridge. Judging by their intelligence, not everyone has gotten in because of their grades, Harry thought grimly.

The first joke the friends made was when applying some make-up to match the pirate look. "Harry doesn't need to," Philip had said, sneering, "he already has a scar on his face." Philip was not wrong - aside from his lightning bolt, Harry sported a small cut under his right eye, that was the result of a nasty jinx he received a couple of years ago and no magic spell had been able to heal it fully. Aside from that, the cuts on his temples from the previous raids were still visible as well, and he looked a lot less well-groomed than the other young men, who all sported squeaky clean-shaven faces and a hairdo that would actually listen to their hair care products.

Then they started to pester him about his glasses, asking him if he didn't have any contacts with him because he was ruining their "pirate aesthetic" and when he replied no, they told him to lose the glasses altogether. Harry flat-out refused, which made Philip's best man, a large bloke called Vance, absolutely livid. He tried to take Harry's glasses from him, but at that moment Philip's father, Uncle Eric, joined their group, and asked what the commotion was about. As Uncle Eric and Harry got along pretty well, Philip calmed Vance down, but the next few hours were nothing short of a living hell. Luckily, Harry was used to being picked on and singled out, so he didn't mind when they decided that Harry wasn't allowed to join in with their game of polo because "they had an odd number". Harry hated horses anyway, so he stood aside and watched them play.

I could have been watching Ginny right now, he thought, irritated. I could have been having a great time with Ron, but no, here I am, forced to watch 12 preppies bounce around on their fancy ponies. I hope one of them breaks something.

The teams would occasionally ask him to fetch water for them, which made him feel even more idiotic, as he ran around with water bottles in a pirate's costume. But, he knew he had no choice - he needed to be a good sport if he wanted to stay in the family's good graces.

After the polo, they had lunch and played snooker. Harry had never played snooker in his life and he was openly laughed at by all of Philip's friends, earning him the last spot in the tournament. It was half past two when Harry decided he had deserved his first beer.

They went to dinner together in a way too fancy restaurants, where they stood out as a sore thumb because of their costumes. Philip had to do a few "scandalous" assignments and drink a few pints, but Harry couldn't be entertained. Instead, he tried to envision how he would be together with Hermione tomorrow. How he would be sensible and sweet and caring, how he would pay attention to her body, and then he started to imagine how it would feel to move inside of her, to push through her folds and engulf himself inside her heat. He tried to imagine the look on her face, the sounds she made, as he thrust inside of her, over and over, filling her up with his flesh, joining their bodies as one, indulging in the feeling of her tight, wet core, surrounding him from tip to hilt. It kept him busy during the first half of dinner, but then he realized that he had become rock-hard and that that was not really desirable in the middle of a packed restaurant with a bunch of extremely unfriendly obnoxious idiots surrounding him.

The last few courses took way, way too long, as Philip was forced to play a game of "truth or dare" and he was made to confess to a few things he and Lydia had been up to behind closed doors. Well, if anything would kill his boner, it would be the thought of that asswipe's sexual encounters, so Harry tried to participate in some way, but he was ignored or ridiculed with every word that passed his lips. When they roamed the streets of London on their way to the bar with the posh name that Harry had forgotten, he felt sad and irritated and alone and, well... Absolutely miserable. It was 8 P.M.

The establishment knew they were coming - apparently Philip and his gang had been regulars of some sort - and they were greeted with shots and booze. Harry took as much as he could reach, dousing himself in alcohol, not caring about what anyone thought. He knew that as soon as Uncle Eric would call it a day, he would apparate straight to Hermione's apartment. Gosh, he truly hoped she was having a better day then he was!

Uncle Eric had no intention of leaving, though. An hour had passed and Harry was seriously contemplating on bolting out of the door anyways, coming up with some lame excuse. He spent almost 12 hours with Philip and his posh pirate pals, enough was enough. He tried to think of something to use as an out - a sick family-member? No, they knew he didn't have any. An emergency at work? Maybe, but how had they contacted him?

Then the doors to the bar swung open again. Harry looked to see who it was, as he had done all the other times before because he was so damn bored, but this time it wasn't some random group of friends. He recognized fiery red hair, followed by a white-blonde ponytail.

Oh no, Harry thought. She would not. She could not! But then he realized it wasn't just Ginny and Jaana. He recognized more girls and, with a tightening stomach, he realized that Ginny had brought along the entire Holyhead Harpies team.

Harry panicked. He didn't know what to do. Should he go to Ginny, and ask her to leave? Should he use Ginny as an excuse to bail on this nightmare? It was a very tempting thought, but then he realized that he had his and Hermione's reputation to uphold. The best way to get out of this was acting like he didn't knew the girls, none of them, and observe from afar what kind of havoc they'd wreak. It wouldn't offer him an out, but it did give him some entertainment at least.

Philip's group reacted very positively to the new girls coming in. A few of Philip's friends were single, and they feasted their eyes on the women's athletic Quidditch bodies. The girls didn't seem interested in them, though. They didn't seem interest in anyone but one person in the entire room.

Ginny had ordered the girls to treat Harry as somewhat of a Veela, he realized. He saw their looks, their over-the-top flirtations, the small waves they gave and the way they showcased their breasts to him. Harry got a dry throat and coughed into his beer, as a girl he recognized as the Chaser named Sandifort, tried to get his attention by jumping up and down, her boobies bouncing in her skimpy dress.

'Nice!' a friend of Philip said, that stood close to Harry. 'Let's see if I can get some tonight.'

He couldn't. As soon as the boy approached the girl, she gave him the most disgusted look. She asked him something, and the friend shook his head in disbelief and pointed to Philip. Another look of disgust, and the friend retreated.

'She... She's into you,' he said to Harry. 'Said she wants to get to know you better or something.'

'Well, I'm spoken for,' Harry said, truthfully. Gosh, he hated this. He didn't want to be the center of attention, he'd never been good at it anyway. Ginny knew that!

'You're... You're serious? Look at her, man! All tits and fun, you don't want to...'

Harry looked at the boy flatly, as he did a weird thing with his eyebrows.

'You know... Boom-chick-a-wow-wow?'

Harry snorted.

'I get enough "boom-chick-a-wow-wow" at home,' he replied, 'but even if I didn't, my engagement means something to me. I'm not going to risk my amazing relationship for some girl who's nearly flashing me.'

'Ugh, I wish she would be nearly flashing me,' the boy wined. 'I might try again, wait a minute.'

Harry rolled his eyes and then saw that the other friends of Philip noticed the girls as well. Ginny was currently talking to Vance, stroking his arm and introducing him to Jaana, no doubt telling her they were looking for a plus one that evening. Oh God, Ginny had gotten off the rails. She leaned into Vance, whispering something in his ears, and Harry could see the look on Vance's face darken and his mouth almost water. She gestured to Harry, and Vance violently shook his head. Ginny gestured to him again, and Vance kept on shaking, until he beckoned Harry with an arm movement to come closer.

'What is it?' Harry groaned, looking at Ginny, who had a way too smug look on her face.

'This-... Ehrm, this... Lovely lady, here, ehm... I mean, these lovely ladies, they, ehm...'

'We were wondering if you were willing to join us tonight,' Ginny said, feigning innocence. 'You see, my girlfriend and I have been dying to find a real man to fulfill all of our dire needs, but we just can't seem to find anyone fit to do the job...'

'I told them you are engaged,' Vance said sharply, looking extremely jealous at how Ginny's hand now roamed over Harry's shoulder. 'And that you won't be available.'

'Vance is right,' Harry said, without batting an eye-lash. 'I am spoken for, I'm afraid. But I really appreciate the offer, thank you very much.'

Ginny pouted visibly, and so did Jaana.

'But, I was looking forward to it,' Jaana exaggerated. 'We have been looking for so long, Ginny, and now we finally thought we found someone handsome enough and manly enough to handle the both of us, he won't comply!' Ginny nodded sadly and made a soothing noise.

'I know, sweetheart. Let me try to brighten your day.'

She pulled her girlfriend in for a very sexual kiss, right in front of Harry, Vance, Philip and the rest of the group. Harry turned red and averted his gaze, feeling incredibly awkward, but the rest of the group did no such thing. Their jaws dropped, their eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets and they watched with anticipation. Philip wasn't able to resist the two pretty girls either and cleared his throat, looking around. Lydia's father, who had tagged along the entire day as well, was nowhere to be seen.

'Well, if you two would do me the honor, this is my Stag Night, so I am available...'

He tried to pull a face that should have been sophisticated and sexy, but by now his eye-liner was smudged and he looked like a clown.

'You?!' Ginny emphasized. 'You think we'd be interested in you? It's an understatement to say that you and this guy here' - she gestured to Harry - 'are not even in the same league. And what, you said you're getting married? Well, that's the surprise of the evening. You are such an ugly, hideous ogre, it would surprise me if anyone in this world would ever let your dick within a five foot radius of their womb. The least thing anyone should want in this world is for your sorry, pathetic arse to procreate.'

Ooohh, wow. You could count on Ginny Weasley for an amazing payback. Harry tried to hide his involuntarily guffawing with a deep cough, but he didn't really succeed. Philip was unsure what to do - he was hurt and upset and unbelievably angry, all at the same time, but Ginny did nothing but smile sweetly at him. After a few seconds of dumb staring, and silently fuming, he stormed out, followed swiftly by Vance, who tried to talk some sense into him.

'How was that?' Ginny asked, under her breath, and Harry looked at her appreciatively.

'The way you told him exactly what he told Hermione without being too obvious about it, was pure art. Thanks, Gin.'

'Let's inform the girls to not pay any attention to Philip at all, no matter how hard he tries,' Jaana said, excitedly. 'All of the other boys are allowed some attention now, except for him. Let's drive him mad. He has no problem with cheating on his fiance? He can get it - we'll give him the bluest balls he's ever had.'

Ginny winked to Harry and disappeared in the crowd, following her girlfriend. Harry knew he shouldn't like this as much as he did - Ithey were kind of ruining Philip's Stag Do, but after an entire day of pure prejudiced torture he felt it was more than deserved. He dodged a few more Harpies and then decided to sit on a stool at the bar, watching with a snicker how most of the men from Philip's party managed to get one of The Harpies to make out. Philip and Vance had reappeared again, and while Vance was quickly whisked away by one of the girls - he was quite good-looking, after all - Philip remained lonely. It made him desperate. Harry couldn't help but grin widely as he saw Philip try and butter up to any sweet girl he could find, only to be insulted once again.

Hermione was wrong, Harry thought to himself. The hat wasn't wrong to consider Slytherin. It just should have considered Ginny for that house as well.

It didn't take too long for Harry to be joined by Uncle Eric, who looked worried. He couldn't blame him - Philip was making a real fool out of himself. The bar got more and more crowded. It seemed a Hen Do had entered the establishment as well, and it didn't take long to realize it wasn't just any Hen Do.

'Harry!'

A wonderful voice boomed across the music and Harry turned his head to see where it came from. His bushy-haired girlfriend swung her arms around him before he got to take a good look at her and he chuckled.

'Hermione! It's so great to see you!'

'Oh, I hoped you'd be here!' she said, and then acknowledged her uncle. She was wearing a military cap, that she placed on Harry's head immediately, and a skimpy camouflage skirt that she had decided to wear over her regular trousers.

'It was awful,' she whispered in Harry's ear. 'We had a workshop were we had to make our own dildo.'

Harry spat out his drink and looked at her shocked.

'What? But Lydia is such a prim and proper girl-...'

'Yeah, well, not. I've heard things about my cousin that I will gladly take with me to my grave, don't ask me to repeat them.'

Harry snorted and pulled her closely against him, kissing her shortly.

'I won't. Don't worry. My day was awful too, if you really want to know. It's just gotten a bit more interesting since... Well...'

He gestured to the dance-floor, where Jaana and Ginny did their best to drive another male from Philip's party absolutely crazy. She wanted to shout something, but Harry shook his head and leaned over to Hermione's ear to explain why The Harpies were here and what had happened.

'They said that to him?' she whispered back, eyes glistening with pride, careful to stay out of earshot of her uncle. Harry nodded.

'Yep. He had a good slice of humble pie today. What do you say, shall we go home? I think we've seen the most important parts of tonight, haven't...'

A loud, earth-shattering shriek filled the ballroom. Everyone turned their heads, disturbed, to where the sound was erupting from. In a corner of the ballroom, Lydia stood, looking at a frazzled Philip, that had his fingers embedded deeply into the knickers of some club girl. Not a Harpie, Harry noted - this was just a stray girl that he picked probably out of sheer hopelessness.

'Philip? Philip, what are you doing?!'

Harry and Hermione looked at the scene, looked at each other, and realized that there most likely wouldn't be a Philip-Lydia wedding taking place.