Fate must be a fan, for you found Harry halfway through your journey to the common room; apparently, your love had been in the office with headmaster Dumbledore! Oh, Harry, such an enterprising eager young man, there was no doubt in your mind he would be financially stable in the future. The thought made you swoon, tears began to emanate from your [your eye color] eyes.
Your hands trembled at his appearance; the faint feeling of perspiration running down your back and into your deepest crack made itself apparent. There was undoubtedly a mixture formed from your cavern's lint and grease collection combined with sweat. It had been a Fortnite since you last frolicked in the bath; your forefathers would surely be frowning in frustration at your fecal gathering.
Unfortunately, your forefathers weren't the only ones revolted by your hygiene failures. Harry himself was groaning in pain as he caught a whiff of the odors permeating from your form, his nose wrinkled in disgust; it made his scar scrunch up in the cutest way! "Y/N, have you ever thought to perhaps, bathe?" With this disparaging question came another disturbing motion, that of your love ejecting spittle upon you, a torrential downpour of his delicious discharge came down like that of an angel's droppings.
It was painful to admit, but you loved it; this was the closest contact you had with Harry in weeks! The boy-wonder had hardly spoken a word to you since the unicorn incident... He must have been upset when you left him with a half-eaten salad, off to pillage that poor frog boy.
Luckily you had just the solution to this problem! Along your stroll to the common room, you had picked up a brew from the coffee machines found in the halls, and you may have added your newest Hermione-produced secret ingredient. Hehe! You didn't feel bad about tricking your love; this had to be done, no matter what the wizarding laws said. Whatever it took to get to the center of that marvelous milk tootsie pop!
"No sir bu-b-b-but I have this quad long shot grande in a venti cup half calf double cupped no sleeve salted caramel mocha latte with 2 pumps of vanilla substitute with some secret ingredients and 2 pumps of white chocolate mocha for mocha and substitute 2 pumps of hazelnut for toffee nut half whole milk and half breve with no whipped cream extra hot extra foam extra caramel drizzle extra salt add a scoop of vanilla bean powder with light ice well-stirred just for you, made with love." you get down on your knees and present your meek offerin' to your master. You hoped he would appreciate the gesture; it had taken you minutes to figure out this cover story for your mysterious brew.
Harry, it seemed, was ecstatic to see such a well-blended cup of coffee! Instantly you found the drink snatched from your shamefully sweaty hands, and Harry had no hesitation, chugging the broth before you could even utter your gratefulness for his hospitality. You watched in apprehension as the red-brew went barreling down his gullet, his handsome mighty apple working the sludge down into its grotto; you were almost jealous of your creation.
You were beginning to moan from the wanton exhibition when suddenly, Harry convulsed. It started slowly, a muscular bicep tweak here or there, a twitch of those beautiful emerald eyes, but all too fast, your love found himself writhing on the mahogany floor. You were far too shocked to do anything, watching in fear as the boy suddenly stopped all movements; shallow breathing was all you needed to see to stay alive, for there was no reason to live without your Harrykuns.
Damn Hermione and her poisonous concoction; she had almost slain the savior of the wizarding world! You found tears flowing down your face, yet you refused to show weakness near your love; you lapped them away with your dexterous seven-inch tongue. You stood, understanding the need to warn Dumbledore of this incident immediately. Only a wizard of his level could fix this almost fatal incident. However, your vision was so blurry from the saliva and tears that you found yourself tripping upon nothing; as you rose in fear, you heard your love awaken.
"Y/N, meet me in the common room. We must copulate."
He sounded... different. Immediately after his statement, you could hear the loud clicks of his spurs walking away from your fallen form. You didn't know what this copulate word meant, but surely it implied he wanted an apology for this terrible incident? You were willing to give your life to Harry, anything for his forgiveness!
Several moments of reflection passed before you eventually stood up and licked away the last remaining remnants of your sorrow, for now, with a clear vision and a repaired heart, you had copulation to attend to!
The first line of business was to tattle Hermione on the news. For all you knew, Harry James Potter almost expired! You dashed through the halls in hopes she was still fighting for her life in the lavatory. The halls seemed to narrow so much you could grab onto the wall to leverage yourself. Like a ninja of the night, you sneak into the room you were in just hours before.
Slamming open the door, you see that your lovely locked lady was unluckily nowhere to be found. Egads! The glass shards of multiple broken potion bottles led towards a toilet in the far corner, and Hermione was keeled over the toilet, presumably crying and throwing up. You walk up to her, exhausted from dashing through the halls with a one-horse open sleigh (the parkour move you just made up). As you go to tap her shoulder, she snaps her head up and hisses at you. "I saw you turn him, you absolute loon! You did everything you could have possibly done wrong. By God's light, I hope He casts you to the deepest, darkest depths of damnation."
She was appalled ! You could not believe your most loyal, lovely, luscious ally had abandoned you. She had been your first friend coming to Hogwarts, Magic School for Wizards and Witches; you truly believed the two of you were destined to become the power couple to rule the wizarding world. Instead... you were alone. How could you, a measly 18-year-old (your gender), defeat Voldemort and all the evils of this cruel, cruel world?
"Hermione, my most loyal, lovely, luscious ally... I don't even know where to begin-"
Repugnant green fumes began to emanate from your frightened body, and your usually vice-grip-like pores enlarged in a painful expansion of your (y/s/c) skin. You knew you stank, and it must have been a ripe smell; nevertheless, your nose was far too filled with tears and boogies to detect the dank odor. With a sharp inhalation, Hermione's beautiful hazel globes transformed from dagger-like glares into slits of lust. "Y/N come hither," though she says kind words, her actions are that of an unrestrained beast. You find your scalp clawed and your pits raised; Hermione was giggling something devious! Oh, where could this go? You only hoped the girl had brought her leaky-cauldron deodorant!