Bodies still glowing, Hermione and girl-Harry left the room and re-entered the cool, dark stairwell. Mrs. Weasley stood at the threshold of the doorway.

"Now you two get to bed," she said, finger pointed. "Big day tomorrow, and you'll have to get up bright and early!"

"We will!" said Hermione earnestly.

"Yeah," said girl-Harry.

The door closed, and she and Harry looked at each other.

"I wasn't expecting… all of that," girl-Harry laughed, touching his still-long hair.

"What'd you think?" said Hermione, grinning.

"I don't know," he said, looking down at himself. His masculinity had returned solely in regards to his groin, but everywhere else - his legs, hips, waist, arms, sloping shoulders, gentle skin texture, face - was all still quite feminine.

"It was a lot different than… than normal," Harry said, smiling bashfully. "It kept going."

"Yeah?" she said.

"Although… I was sort of wondering what it felt like to have… you know, breasts."

His chest, unlike the rest of him, had remained quite flat, scrawny, and boyish.

A smirk tugged at the edge of Hermione's mouth.

"Well," she said, "we could ask."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione hesitated, wondering how Harry might react, then bit her lip mischievously and knocked on the bedroom door again. Harry's eyebrows shot up at her, but the next moment Mrs. Weasley was back again, warm light spilling onto the stairwell.

"Yes? What is it?"

"We were wondering…" said Hermione, checking Harry with a look (he seemed pretty nonplussed) "...if you could help Harry, erm, along a bit more."

"Help him along?" said Mrs. Weasley, looking between them. "In regard to what?"

"Well, he was sort of wondering…"

"...If you wouldn't mind letting me try breasts," Harry said, catching on. Immediately, he got embarrassed again and looked away.

"He was just wondering what they felt like," Hermione said supportively.

Mrs. Weasley put a hand on her hip and gave them a look.

"And what was that about getting to bed?"

"Oh we are -!" said Harry.

"We completely intend to -!"

"It's just, I haven't experienced much like this," said Harry.

"And we were thinking to make the most of it," added Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley considered, then relented with a smile.

"Well, okay then. Let me get my wand."

She disappeared, door left cracked. Her and Mr. Weasley's muted voices and laughter came through the doorway. Hermione looked at Harry, but he was looking at himself again. Then Mrs. Weasley appeared, her long rod of light wood in hand.

"Come here, Harry dear," she said, going to Harry and pulling him in against her body.

"Oh," said Harry, startled.

Hermione's cheeks warmed. The sight of Mrs. Weasley - someone so motherly to Harry (and quite naked), pulling him in (while he was also entirely in the nude... and perhaps more daughter-ly in appearance at the moment, despite his genitalia) - was quite alarmingly intimate. She watched Mrs. Weasley's tip wander up Harry's lithe form, drawing attention to his belly button and the spread of skin up to his chest, which was goosebumped in the cold of the stairwell. Combine that image with the thought of how Harry had just been thrown into full-body clenching earlier from Mrs. Weasley's enormous, thrusting cock, and the idea that the post-orgasm aura must still be simmering in his body - it was enough to get anyone going.

Mrs. Weasley's wand went up Harry's chest. Hermione heard her mutter the Engorgement Charm. Harry's eyes followed the tip of the wand, his breaths nervous, but his form still clutched securely by Mrs. Weasley, who had him at the hip and was holding back a smile. In the warm light of the doorway, Hermione watched Harry's nipples stiffen. They developed, tenting outward. The skin around them pillowed, getting fatty, and rounded. They swelled outward, getting bigger, and before she knew it hung out over his ribs. Suddenly, there they were - boobs. Hermione gave a half-grin in bewilderment. They nearly looked bigger than hers. But what really stood out, she thought, was how even more girlish Harry had become.

"There you go, love," Mrs. Weasley whispered, face close to Harry's.

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling shyly.

Hermione felt her skin tingle. Her attention went to her own groin, hidden in her pajama bottoms, which were wet and warm with Mr. Weasley's leftovers. Without thinking, she felt into her waistline and indeed found her thighs slick with fluid - the contact made her desire climb. She quickly pulled out her hand and (not wanting to wipe anything on her pajamas) stuck her fingers in her mouth - she gagged, face wrinkling at the tangy, bitter taste. It made her think of how bleach smelled.

"Now you two don't stay up too late," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Will - will this be gone by morning?" Harry asked, gesturing to himself.

"Yes, don't worry your pretty head," said Mrs. Weasley, lifting Harry's chin with a finger. "They're not strong charms. In all likelihood, you'll be back to your old self by the hour."

"Oh - okay."

She gave each of them another look as a reminder of the bedtime, then returned to her room and shut the door. Hermione watched Harry heft his breasts with an arm, and noticed a thin gold bracelet on his wrist. It only accentuated Harry's femininity further.

"That must be a side-effect of her magic," said Hermione.

"Hmm?"

"Your bracelet," she said, pointing. "I've read it happens sometimes with charmwork. Unintended side-effects."

"They feel heavy," said Harry, holding his breasts. "But... not too different."

Hermione started forward - then hesitated.

"May I?"

"Sure," said Harry.

Hermione touched them. They were warm from the transformation. Gingerly, she felt where the breasts melded into his armpits. She put her thumbs on his nipples, and Harry laughed, flinching.

"They're sensitive," he said.

Hermione smiled. They met eyes. They looked at each other's lips. Hermione wanted mess around with him, and was sure he was thinking the same.

"Let's go up to my room," she said.

"Okay."

She stepped back let Harry lead the way up the stairs. His plump buttocks revolved back and forth in front of her, but instead of the mounds of vulva peeking out between his thighs Hermione saw the taught, wrinkly transition to bollocks.

They passed the bathroom (the bottom of the doorway had candlelight, and Hermione guessed someone was inside) and Percy's door, which was slightly ajar. Low grunts could be heard.

"What's going on?" whispered Harry.

"Maybe he's having a wank," Hermione said back, pushing Harry's warm backside on up the stairs. However - her curiosity was strong, and she peeked inside the room.

Ginny was atop Charlie, his ruddy flesh sunk deep in her vagina. Her pale thighs were spread on either side of him, opening the space between her cheeks, which Bill was filling with his own self. Hermione's face went hot - Ginny's two brothers, penetrating her. Her small body was twisted, her hand holding the side of Bill's head. Their eyes were half closed and their mouths breathed in each other's faces. Bill's muscled arm was holding her, secured around her torso. Her scarlet hair cascaded down toward Charlie like a waterfall, who was looking up at her with a dumb, apeish expression, his calloused fingers clutched on the small of her back. As Hermione watched, Bill and Ginny's mouths met. They kissed deeply, Ginny letting out soft moans as her brother held her, and Charlie's thrusts bounced her.

Hermione shut the door and chased Harry up the stairs. Percy must be in the bathroom, she thought... the miserable wanker. Maybe he'd gotten off, come to his senses, and secluded himself in shame to wait for everyone to finish. A derisive chuckle rose, but it met an unexpected tendril of sympathy and fizzled out.

They got to Ginny's room and (of course) found it empty.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

Hermione thought quickly - "Maybe that was her in the bathroom."

"Is she coming back?"

"Oh, I don't know… probably not for a while," she said. "She likes to read magazines."

"Oh."

Hermione needed to preserve the momentum.

"Which means we have some time," she said, and pulled Harry into the room.

Hermione let Harry walk into the middle of the room to take it in. She closed the door behind them - her heart was beating. She was nervous, but excited. She'd long known about her own probable sexuality (she'd come across an article last summer while at the doctor's; explaining how female sexual attraction was likely a spectrum, with a bell-curve probability distribution, coming as an evolved behavior to reduce in-fighting in the harem-structure of primate mating behavior... meaning her own sexuality was likely somewhere in the middle of that scale too -) but she hadn't yet had the chance to explore things. She'd thought about it, considered it, and made herself open to the idea (for if you were a true pursuent of knowledge, you mustn't leave any stone unturned!), and slowly, had begun to recognize things in other girls that she did find, well… appealing. Her eyes went down the feminine backside of Harry, following his curves, noting the spaces between the insides of his arms and body, the roundness of his bosom, the gentle sloping of his legs and the inverted-triangle of space between them… a space which was, as it happened, filled. Curiosity and craving swelled in her body. This was, some might say, the ideal opportunity - and as someone who had a personal goal to explore things and become as experienced and knowledgeable in as many aspects of life as she could, it was one she surely had to take full advantage of.

"Odd about the lack of lights," Harry said, wandering around the moonlit room. "I mean in the magical world, that is."

"I know," said Hermione. "But hold on -"

She went to Ginny's candles on the bedside table and pinched their wicks, pulling out their flames as they were enchanted to do. The room brightened with warm light, and she turned to find Harry watching her. He glanced away immediately, as shy boys were oft to do, but it was odd seeing such a pretty girl doing it. It made her feel like she was pretty too. But Harry's awkwardness pulled at her sympathy. He must not be knowing what to do with himself, she thought - which meant she had to lead the way.

"So, you were wanting to see how it was to have breasts," she said, approaching him.

"Yeah, I…" Harry started, then laughed it off, not knowing where to look. "Sorry, is it - is it cold in here?"

"No," she said, approaching him even closer. "But I'm not in the nude."

Hesitantly, watching him for signs of protest, she touched his hips. He still didn't seem to know what to do with himself. She and him were about the same height, she thought, with Harry a little taller.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Brilliant. I'm just - I just don't know - I guess I'm feeling out of sorts."

"Are you wanting to… fool around?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "I mean, yes, of course."

"That's good," she said. "Then relax." She looked at his full, girlish lips. "And maybe I can warm you up. If you'd like."

"I think I'd… be okay with that," he said.

She just had to do it, then. They shared another glance, then she kissed him. He didn't pull away. She kissed him again. Gentle breath came through his and onto her face. He started to kiss her back, his lips soft. She felt his dainty fingers touch her waist, and she took his wrist and guided him on, showing him it was okay to touch her. He did so. He felt around to the small of her back, and she directed his fingers beneath her waistline. She moved closer as they snogged. She put a hand on his breast and felt up to his collarbone. Again, uncertainty rose inside her - the fact of Harry being such a pretty girl was a bit intimidating - but he seemed to be fully invested, so she had to trust it. She took a step forward and walked him backward toward the bed. He paused, looking at her, his cheeks flushed.

"Go ahead and take a seat."

He grinned, then stepped back and sat down on the bed. He leaned backward on his hands.

"Stick out your chest," she said.

He did so, watching her with his emerald eyes. She looked down his body, at his breasts, both shaded and warmly lit in the candlelight. She looked at his stomach, smooth and petite. She saw the cock in his groin, swelling with each beat of her heart. It drew her curiosity. She'd never given a BJ before. Following with the thought, she got down on her knees and moved toward him.

"Wait, Hermione…" he said, pulling his feet in. He hit the foot of the bed.

"What?" she said.

"You don't have to…"

She walked forward on her knees and went between his legs again. His cock was right in front of her, getting larger by the minute. She touched it - it was warm - and pointed it upward toward his belly, pressing her palm against its muscled, veined underside. She felt it thump and swell at her contact.

"Maybe I want to," she said.

He didn't say anything. His chin was chubby from the angle. She took ahold of his flesh and moved it against her cheek. She closed her eyes, thinking of the conversations she'd overheard of the other girls in the Gryffindor dorm, and remembered one or two scenes she'd come across on late-night television when she was putting off her summer Astronomy homework. Opening her eyes, she turned her mouth, bringing his flesh in contact with the edge of her lips. In the back of her mind, unbidden and unwelcome, a thought rose in protest - this was his dick, she thought, something he peed with and got all sweaty and nasty in his trousers - but she fought it off, telling herself he'd just been cleaned by Mrs. Weasley's charms, and that she had an immune system that was perfectly capable of handling this sort of thing.

She brought her lower lip in contact with his skin and looked up at Harry's wide eyes. She dragged herself up the underside of his shaft, coating it sparsely in saliva. Her lip inside quickly dried, so she extended her tongue, pressing up him and smearing the underside with her saliva. Even with the charm, she could taste the oil and salt of his skin. She met the smooth ridge of his dome. Then she paused and reversed, working back down, and licked upward again - you were supposed to do a bit of "teasing", she knew. Then, finally, she enveloped the tip. It was very smooth. She took him in, lowering her head, his flesh sliding between her lips. She sucked, gently, his flesh filling the interior of her mouth, then brought him out again and did another pass with her tongue.

She kept working. Hair fell in her face, and she tucked it behind an ear. She kept looking up at his expression, girly and mesmerized between his saggy breasts. It was sort of an odd thing to be doing, she thought - but, of course, it wasn't for her. And he seemed to be enjoying it.

She focused back down on the thin, sparse pubes of Harry's pelvic mound. She took him in, working down toward the area, but stopped before going to deep - she didn't want to gag. She bobbed, spending time on the dome, drawing him out and licking. She grasped him and tugged gently, twisting, feeling his hot flesh slide in her grip. Harry gasped, his voice feminine. She looked up at him - each time she checked him, she kept finding herself surprised at a girl being there. Words came to her mind. Hermaphrodite. Intersexual. Futanari. Gynandromorph. All things she'd come across in her reading, that meant someone possessing both male and female parts. But then she spotted the familiar Harry characteristics, and re-made the familiarity of him in her mind.

"Should I -" said Harry, breathlessly - "should I tell you when I'm about to, you know…?"

She stopped, taking him out of her mouth and letting his warm, slippery cock rest against her face. She'd heard that once a guy shot their shot, they were pretty much done.

"Yes," she said. "Did you want to… er, you know, have sex with me?"

"I, yeah," he said. "Yes. I mean, did you want me to?"

"Most definitely," she said.

"Well alright then," he laughed.

She got back to work, but hardly a minute passed before Harry was starting to tense, and touch her head, and push her hair from her face, and for his gasping to turn more and more frequent…

"Her, Hermione," he said, "I think… I think you should slow -"

Immediately she stopped, pulling away and leaving him sticking up in the air of the room. She hung back, gripping his knees for support. His chest rose and fell with breath.

"My god," he said, staring at his throbbing mast.

"Are you going to finish?" she said.

"No, I think I'm okay."

She smiled.

"Good, then.

She got up and climbed on top of him, her knees sinking into the mattress. She looked at his perky breasts again... at his chest center, where lay the smooth valley of his sternum, and the dips of his collarbones... the smooth transition to his neck, his lips, the narrow bridge of his nose, and his gorgeous, emerald eyes, and magically thinned eyebrows. Down at her crotch, she knew his girth stood in waiting. She could feel it pressed against her pajamas, and she wanted it inside her, but she held off. She caressed his head and kissed the smooth skin of his neck, excitement building at his transformed state. It was almost like he was a different person. But this wasn't just anyone, she knew. This was Harry, her friend. She came up and looked him in the eyes. They kissed.

"Did you…" said Harry, during breaths, "...did you want me to... do you now? Like...?"

"Eat me?"

"Yeah," he laughed.

It sounded crude, she knew, but it was the simplest way to put it. She thought about it, and found the idea appealing.

"Yeah," she said.

"How do you want to…?"

"Let's do this…"

They switched positions, Harry standing up from the bed and Hermione taking a seat on the edge. Then she remembered how the wood floor had started to hurt her knees and reconsidered.

"Up here actually," she said, scooting back against her pillows. There was was almost enough room for two people, if they scrunched themselves up a bit. "Is that enough space?"

"I think so," said Harry.

Hermione did a quick mental gauge of what they were going to do and how it would work on the mattress, and realized Harry would have to be on his knees and probably would have his feet hanging off the end.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," said Harry, studying things. "Let's give it a go."

"Alright," she said.

She gathered some pillows behind her as Harry went to the foot of the bed and clambered toward her. His breasts hung down, which made him laugh (and her too), but as he approached, her groin sparked with the thought of what was coming. Nerves jittery, she decided she ought to take off her top and pulled it up over her head while Harry got knocked about between her knees.

"Sorry!"

"It's fine," he said.

She tossed the pajama top aside and the cool air of the room sank down over her stomach and chest. The sudden change in temperature made her nipples stiffen.

"Want me to -?" said Harry, putting fingers on her waistband.

"Yeah," she said.

He took ahold and pulled them down. She rocked from side to side as the waistband passed beneath her bottom. Harry got up on his knees, full, feminine body displayed before her (as well as his half-erect penis) and tugged the bottoms off the rest of the way, leaving her as bare and naked as he was.

"Okay," she laughed.

He got on his hands and knees, lowering himself toward her. He laughed at the oddness of the situation, which made her laugh too, and they had to get themselves psyched back into the mood. He came in closer, splaying himself out. With his legs spread he was actually able to get pretty comfortable on the mattress, which was good. He lifted her legs over his shoulders, and she kept herself relaxed. He studied her, his breath on her groin. Then, without warning, he went in and licked her.

"Oh!" she said.

He laughed, looking up at her. With him in that position - at that angle - with his penis hidden beneath his body, and his girlish face, and his mess of hair and feminine backside - it was very easy for her to think of him not as Harry, but as a girl she was experimenting with.

He licked her, tracing up the divide in her mounds. His tongue was hot and thin. He licked again, and she sucked in breath, which made him look up at her again with his eyes. She got an idea - with just a few touches, she could really bring the fantasy home.

"Wait," she said.

"What's wrong?"

She smiled - "I was just thinking, if you wanted to try on a bit of makeup?"

He thought about it.

"Might as well," he said.

"Grand," she laughed.

They rearranged themselves on the bed, her groin once again having to simmer down, but she knew it'd be tended to shortly. They sat across from each other. Hermione got her bag up off the floor - her makeup kit was minimal (and, in fact, had only been used on one occasion, as more of a test than anything) - but she'd seen Lily Moon doing Lavender Brown's makeup before, and the other girls attending to their own faces in the mirror. It was definitely something she'd have to think about with the Ball coming up this year. But in the meantime, here was Harry.

"Go on and close your eyes," Hermione said.

He did so, and really, it was almost enough at that point. Anyone looking in the room would simply see two girls sitting across from each other. But Hermione wanted to go through with it, because his eyes were so distinguished and recognizable that even as he was they were enough to remind her of his boyhood.

Hermione picked out her mascara bottle and unscrewed the cap-brush, breaking the seal of dry, glued mascara on the threads. She scooted closer to Harry, their knees bumping ("Sorry," they both said), then, keeping her hand steady, moved the narrow brush tip toward Harry's eyelid.

"Okay, here it goes," she said.

Harry took a breath, but otherwise waited patiently. She touched the brush down and pulled it across his skin. She did short strokes at first, getting familiar with it (messing up once but cleaning it up with a tissue) and made her way across, deciding to go for short, pointed wings. She narrated her actions to Harry, and he said small things like "huh" and "okay". They decided against lipstick (his lips were bright enough), and as Hermione finished she felt the strange, unexplored mood arousing inside her.

"Alright, you can open your eyes!"

He did so. The effect was striking - there was hardly anything you could find masculine about Harry now. But she had an idea and wanted to go one step further.

"I've got some perfume," she said, and showed Harry the four little spray bottles (which she actually did put to use). Three were floral (with rose, jasmine, vanilla, and juniper being some of their scents), and the fourth more beachy, with coconut and pine. "I want you to choose one - you don't need more than a spritz on your pits and neck - and I'll leave the room -"

"- Leave the room?"

"So it's a surprise!" she said. "Then we can get back to things."

Girl-Harry raised his eyebrows, and the ghost of a smirk showed on his lips.

"Alright," he said.

She laughed awkwardly and clambered out of bed, stepping into the stairwell. The landing was cold and dark and she stood there with her arms crossed over her breasts, hoping nobody would happen across her. But the next second the strange, effeminate, almost-Harry voice called her back in - "Okay!"

She re-entered Ginny's room and found him lounging there in the candlelight, just a tense leg or shoulder away from being completely relaxed. The slight uncertainty in his eyes somehow made him look even cuter, and a surge ran toward her groin. She could nearly feel her pupils dilate.

"Oh my god," she said.

She approached the bed and climbed atop him, putting him backward on his elbows. He'd chosen the beach scent, which she rarely used and so was perfect for this. She grabbed his face, fingers going into his hair, and pulled their mouths together. They kissed deeply.

"Hmmph," said Harry, "hmmm."

Harry moved a hand up to the back of her head. She put her hand on his chest and grabbed his boob, pressing it upward. She slid over his nipple and felt up to his shoulder… to his neck… made it to his ear and felt the back of his head, his skull moving as they kissed. She let her tongue wander out and find his, and coaxed it to move with hers. They puffed breath from their noses.

She pulled away, staring at him in heat. His mouth hung open as he watched her - a confirmation of his arousal. She noticed his cock beneath her, trapped beneath her thigh, thick and pulsing. With a quick hop she allowed it to spring upward toward his belly. She pressed against it, parting her flesh as she slid up the underside of his shaft. She was oozing. She wanted him in her - she needed him in her - but she held off. Not yet, she told herself. They had to make the most of this.

Climbing backward, she crawled off him (picking up her makeup kit and tossing it carefully on the bedside table) and went around his backside, resuming her position on the pillows.

"So where were we?" she said, breathless.

He cracked a smile - "Thought we might be skipping that bit."

"Nooo," she said, wiggling her hips at him.

"Okay," he said, humoring her.

He crawled backward and she pushed herself down the bed after him, arching a hand behind her on the wall. He settled back into his prior position, dick and breasts flattened on the mattress. His bubbled booty stuck up in the air, his lower back a luscious valley of skin that rose upward and presented his shoulders, arms, hands, and girl-face.

Harry brought her legs over his shoulders, re-centering himself. His fingers clutched the outsides of her thighs. She should have painted his nails, she thought - but no, it was too late now; it would be way too much to ask. He looked down at her crotch, face framed by his mess of hair, his breath on her bare skin. He lowered his mouth and lovely lips, looking up at her with his gorgeous, lidded eyes, then brought his warm tongue in contact with her flesh.

"Huhh," she moaned.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he set to work. His contacts were short at first, but then he went longer until finally clamping his mouth down and going for her middle. Her face grew hot, her breaths short. She watched him. One of her hands felt her breast, squeezing her nipple, and the other went for his hair and brushed it from his face.

"Can you… can you go lower?" she said.

Harry met her eyes and obliged, his thin, dense tongue wiggling deeper.

"The sides," she said. He followed her instructions. "The middle… off to the side, please, kiss the edge... and now the top… the top…"

He started to know his way around, and she let him go for it, breathing. It was so hot, she thought - and so easy to pretend he was another girl. She fell into the fantasy, coming to pieces each time girl-Harry glanced up at her, loving the way he held her legs and pulled them apart. Just a while ago she was here by herself, crying at her misfortune, the room dark, Ginny asleep as she worked her body up with her own fingers. But now she had a strange, beautiful girl with her, and her legs were spread as she writhed her tongue against her, building her up. It was incredible. Hermione's body swirled like a bonfire, Harry's tongue a billow on her flames, rushing and surging the flame up her body. Her legs started to twitch. Her stomach tensed involuntarily. She grappled at his head, huffing breaths - "Ah, ah, ah!"

He must have taken this as a sign, because he began to slow, and in the midst of her surges she knew she had to salvage things. They needed their bodies against each other. She needed to move quickly. Jerky and spasmatic, she got to her knees and gestured him to the pillow.

"You go - you go there," she said, "and I'll be down this way -"

"Like this?" said Harry, taking her spot.

"Yeah," she said, crawling toward his feet, "but further toward this way, toward the middle of the bed… like that!"

They went horizontal again, bodies aligning, and hastily she settled herself over his face again. His hands clamped on her backside, pulling her in, and she found herself face-to-face with the ruddy, fleshy cock still attached to his body. Things she had to tend to, she thought, it was only proper. She went in and directed his shaft toward her mouth. Harry's tongue was busy in her crotch. She licked his dome. She pulled with her lips, and smeared saliva, and enveloped him, burrowing her face far into his smooth, feminine legs. She pulled away and went deeper, kissing and and mouthing at his bullocks, applying gentle suction on his testes before coming up and taking his girth in again. She bobbed her lips, moving her head forward, up, back, down, and forward again - like a bicycle pedal, she thought, the pattern-matching part of her mind pulling the analogy out of the blue. She must've been doing something right, because she heard soft sounds of pleasure coming from him, so she relaxed, letting herself submerge in pleasure and do the same, the sounds coming out in fractured, unseemly grunts - but she didn't give a shit about seemly things right then.

They went like this for another few minutes before her eyes went to Harry's brown bunghole and realized they were being stupid... the whole point of him looking like a girl was to actually look at him! So she pulled away, answering his protests with a hand that forced him back onto the mattress. She swung her leg and mounted him - he simply watched her, hands up and limp on either side of his face, breasts sagging - and she looked down. Once more, she aligned herself and pressed against his shaft. His girth slipped beneath her, and she went down and up again, gasping, her own liquids coating it again. They met eyes.

He stared at her, mouth open. She took him in her hands and pressed his dome against her, parting her lips. She moved it down, orienting it (his shaft was so long, she thought) and once it was in position - sank. She settled onto him. He was bigger than Percy, denser than Mr. Weasley, and by the time she was atop his ballsack he'd nearly filled her entirely.

"Ohhh," she said.

She began to move. She went up, almost pulling off, and settled back down, Harry rubbing inside her. She met his eyes. Her mouth gaped, just as his. She moved her hips, and leaned forward, falling over him, her hair tumbling off her shoulder. Their breasts pressed and their nipples glanced off each other. He squeezed his, bulging them upward, and she put her mouth over his nipple. She sucked and pulled, licking it like she thought would be pleasurable, all the while sinking onto his dick. His bracelet glinted in the candlelight. Suddenly, she tasted a tang - something filmy, creamy - instinctively, she swallowed, then pulled back and saw a droplet of white by his nipple.

"Was - was that -?" he asked.

She nodded, bursting into laughter, but before he could do anything more she clamped her mouth over his. She laughed through her nose, and a minute later they were moving with each other again. She moved her hands up his arms and intertwined their fingers. They kissed, his tongue warm, and let out soft moans with each breath. She, and Harry, the almost-girl.

She only had a moment to relish it. In sudden decision he seized her and turned her onto the mattress, revolving his body on top of her. She was surprised, but excited at the sudden shift - she laid back and girl-Harry re-oriented his penis and went inside her again.

He thrusted. Hermione watched him, her own face now showing that apeish expression, but she didn't care. Harry stared at her, his cheeks blushed. She was enthralled by the intensity of his gaze. His breaths came out in pitched grunts, his breasts swinging as he pushed into her, aggressively, assertively. He took her face and they met mouths. His other hand slid beneath her armpit, pressing the mattress for support as his hot body moved atop her.

He settled lower, thrusting with his hips. She tented her body with her legs and pressed against him. His breasts squished against hers. Her hands went up his back, which was warm and fit with tight muscles. He moved off her face, kissing her jaw, down her neck. She let herself go limp and wrapped her legs around him, and discovered his butt was firm. His sounds became deeper, more masculine. He was transforming, right atop her. She clutched his arms and found them not thin and soft, but dense and sturdy. He was returning to masculinity, she realized, to being a boy - but the prospect surged her mood. It fired her up. It wasn't his girl-hood had become stale, but the idea of him changing once more, of leaving his gentle femininity and resuming something more gruff and brutish and natural, that made her fire swell.

His lips found her ear. She clutched his head, and found his hair returned to its normal length. He was back, she knew. Her friend, returned to his own self. She could smell him. And with that came another realization - they'd crossed a boundary. They had gone beyond friendship. Now they were something more. And, quite unexpectedly, it clicked with her. It felt right. With the families they were from, and the experiences they were having, and how well they connected with one another… everything seemed to fit. Her heart surged, pumping full. No matter what changes the future held, she trusted him, and the solidity of their friendship. And as long as they had that, they could do anything together. Be anything together. It was wonderful, and with that thought, she felt herself slipping into ecstasy, giving in to Harry's thrusts, her head jerking to the side and hands scrambling across his back for purchase.

"Oh - hohh - Harry," she said.

And then he came, cock clenching and spurting warmth deep inside her. He fell heavily atop her body as her muscles jerked and pleasure flooded over her, again and again.