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Chap. 61: Life of the Party
Harry was delighted with Luna's choice of wardrobe when they met in the entry hall, almost exactly where he'd met with Pansy about eight hours earlier. Even though he had definitely specified they would be going as friends, Luna Lovegood had pulled out all the stops, it seemed. In fact, next to her shimmering, almost sparkling silver dress robes, his own jet-black, Acromantula-silk robes seemed painfully simple and understated. The little bit of red and green he had used as accents on his temporarily color-charmed buttons were the only real nod to the season he had made. Luna didn't wear either of those. In fact, the only ornamentation he could see aside from her dress and a surprisingly beautiful up-do in her thick, wavy, silver-blonde hair was the golden necklace she wore, which carried a large pendant in the shape of a heart, on which was engraved the Ravenclaw House crest. But as Luna saw him in turn, she pinked slightly from a dozen or so feet away, and shyly ran a hand through her hair to push several spun-silver locks behind an ear, showing him her radish-like earrings. Heh, some red at least. Goddess... how did I not notice she's this pretty? I mean, we're just friends, but I feel like I'm a moron for asking her out that way!
He shook his head as he passed several surprised-looking students leaving the Great Hall after dinner. Word had not gotten out to the majority of the student body, it seemed, about Slughorn's little party. It really was invite only, then, Harry mused before turning his attention back to his date, who looked up at him with a brilliant smile. Luna's bright blue eyes danced with amusement, "Hello, Harry. What a surprise to see you here. Where are you headed at such a late hour?"
He blinked, grinned, then cast his eyes about, over the heads of several of the shorter students, and wished he was taller. It wasn't dignified, he felt, to stand on his toes to see over nearly every other student in his year. "I was on my way to a party, and I've come to pick up my date. Have you seen her?"
"Hmm... your date is missing? That sounds like a conundrum! If you'd like, I can help you look for her."
Harry pretended to consider it for a moment for the benefit of those still staring at the overdressed pair, then shrugged, "Bah, forget her. She was probably going to be boring, anyway. I'd much rather spend time with you, Luna. Interested in a holiday party?"
"Ooh, a party? Let me think... I haven't been invited to one of those since... yesterday! I'd love to go to a party with you, Harry!"
"Allow me then, Miss," he finished with a flourishing bow that must have looked ridiculous, for it got several laughs from the onlookers, but made Luna giggle delightfully as he stood up and offered her an arm. She slipped hers through his with remarkable grace, and he started walking, leading them back into the castle.
It took a few minutes to arrive at the refurbished classroom, but Luna was, as always, oddly easy to talk to. They didn't discuss much, really, and there was no mention of nargles, plimpies, blibbering hum-dingers, corn-dodgers, or any other creature Harry had never heard of. Instead, the sole topic was what they might expect from the party itself.
"I don't really know, I suppose," Harry concluded as they reached the appointed door. Music could already be heard through it, some slow beat and soft strings that hinted at something like what the Dursleys would have called traditional Christmas music, and would have been mortified to hear that wizarding folk had created it. He pushed open the door after knocking once, and a barrage for the senses crashed into them in a palpable wave.
The room beyond, magically expanded to colossal proportions, it must have been, for it resembled a small ballroom in size, was brightly lit by thousands of fairies flittering through silver-frocked pine limbs that draped over the ceiling from one corner to the next in a vast network of branches. Candles borrowed from the Great Hall, or enchanted in the same way, floated by the hundreds just overhead as well, while menorahs or similar seven-branched candelabra sat on several round tables that lined the walls to the right, circling half the room. There were about ten placements on each table, seating for perhaps ninety people, but Harry suspected at least twice that were present, because the dance-floor was full to bursting. The smells of savory ham and chicken, turkey, wassail, cinnamon-bread, and other delights associated with the Yule holiday assaulted them too, along with the wall of sound that seemed to somehow pervade everything happening despite the music not being terribly loud.
Instead, the volume came from the animated, cheerful chatter of more than a hundred voices, all talking at once.
Luna paused after entering for just a moment, then looked up at him. When Harry met her gaze, he saw the barest hint of nervousness hiding there behind her happy smile. "I don't want to be here, either," he said quietly, hopefully reassuring her, "but I did promise Slughorn I'd come at least once. I kind of owe him."
"I'm fine, if you're here," Luna whispered, "I just... don't like crowds much."
"I know the feeling," he promised her, then slipped a hand around her waist to hold her close. He hadn't intended it as a romantic gesture in the least, merely as a motion to comfort her, combined with habits grown over the last months.
Of course, just then is when their host noticed them, standing gormlessly just inside the door.
"Harry Potter," Horace Slughorn's voice boomed out, calling the attention of every single attendee, "my young friend! And his most attractive date, as well! Miss... Lovegood! Yes, daughter of old Xenophilius, you remember him, don't you, Francis?"
The rotund professor said something else to the trio of aged wizards he was talking to, gave them a jovial bow, and then left the group to hurry toward Harry before he could escape. He stopped in front of them, beaming, "Glad you could make it, glad you could make it! And Miss Lovegood... an unexpected, but not unwelcome treat! I wonder if the media is something you're looking for more attention from, eh, Harry? I can help you there, if you just give me the word, ha, ha! Now, come, come, there's a few people I'd like you both to meet!"
What followed for the next hour was torturous to Harry, and not entirely pleasant for Luna, either, as they were both (she no less than he, Harry was surprised to see, for as far as he knew Luna was not the type for Slughorn to cultivate) introduced to several wealthy or influential wizards and witches. More than a few dozen, in fact, for they came in groups of two or five, and of course, not one seemed uninterested in meeting him, the famed Boy-Who-Lived. Or, as some moronic folk had whispered as he approached or left some groups, the 'Chosen One'.
While Harry was getting a crash-course in networking and influence-building whether he liked it or not, Ron groaned as he climaxed into his eager girlfriend's mouth for the second time in half an hour, "Fuck, Hermione... you going to miss me, or something?"
He was hardly complaining, but the brunette seemed desperate for attention this particular evening. In fact, she had kept blowing him right through Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis entering the common area of Harry's quarters to walk into their room. And he couldn't be sure, but he thought that both of the Slytherins, who had walked behind him of course, might have stopped to watch for a moment! But neither had said anything, and while Hermione had lifted her eyes to look back at them with his rod in her mouth, she hadn't stopped, or even slowed.
In fact, the attention seemed to have spurred her on.
After she'd pulled the last bits of his cum out of his pipe, Hermione let him go with a loud pop, then licked her lips and leaned in to kiss his tip one more time. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I probably will. You know I love you, you prat."
"Well, I'll miss you too," he assured her, reaching out with his long arms to run a few fingers through her gloriously bushy hair. "I wish Mum would let us just stay with you lot, but you know how she is about the hols and family. Boxing day can't come soon enough."
"Maybe we'll come by on Christmas too, if that's alright," she shrugged, pulling on her blouse in the meantime, for it was half off. "My parents are visiting Harry and Sirius for a few days before anyway, so I don't see a reason we can't pop by for an hour or two."
"Your parents, at the Burrow? That'll be an eye-opener," Ron chuckled.
Hermione smiled, "Won't it? They've never seen an all-magical house before, and even being in Diagon Alley can't prepare you for that sort of experience. Then, of course, your Dad can ask mine all sorts of questions. And my mother can ask yours all sorts, too."
Ron had smiled at the first bit, as Hermione stood and held her hands to help him out, but frowned at the second, pulling her into a kiss once both were upright. "What would our Mums talk about?"
"Oh, whether it was you or Harry that deflowered me, whether or not I'm pregnant, that sort of thing," she teased casually, making Ron turn nearly as red as his hair.
She laughed, slapped his chest, and then told him more seriously, "I need to finish packing, though. I'm heading up to the dorms. If you see Harry tonight, tell him I'll be ready for the train by nine."
Ron gulped. "Shit, I haven't packed! The train's tomorrow, yeah?"
Far from being put out by that sort of thing now, Hermione only rolled her eyes. Even with late notice, somehow he always managed it, so it was no use complaining. "Leaves at ten, just like always."
"Right. Well, I s'pose I should go pack, too."
Hermione shrugged, "You don't have to come up right away. You can go enjoy your loaned toy for a bit. She's probably lonely." She heaved her bag, homework written entire feet of parchment beyond what was required as usual, onto her shoulder and heading for the door after blowing him a kiss.
"Er... you really don't mind?"
"Not a bit! Just make sure she screams your name. Or better, make her sing, 'Weasley is our King', with your long cock buried in her throat."
After the several Slytherin-led renditions the previous year (not to mention the Gryffindor-led one in the last game of the season), the thought did have a certain appeal. Ron grinned. "Oh, that sounds like fun."
Not even a minute later, fully grateful for the Runes that let him climax several times a day, as many as he wanted really, Ron strode into Harry's bedroom half-dressed and losing what little clothing he had quickly. His erection was full within seconds of seeing how Harry had left Parkinson. Her tits, easily as big as Hermione's if not quite as shapely, hung on either side of the sawhorse, and her whole body rested along the edge. She seemed half-conscious at best, for her body still quivered and shook with pain, pleasure, or both, but Pansy did not react as he came into the room and shut the door, dropping his boxers over the pillory, the last bit of clothing he wore.
Gods, I love Hermione, he thought, she has the best ideas!
He started humming the simple tune which had once brought him such shame and grief, as he moved over to the girl and examined her bruised, welted body. "Damn, Harry did a number on you," he murmured before beginning his own House's version of the song under his breath. He let his hands roam and grace the welts, the lashes, and even rested his hands, larger as they were, on the faint red welts that his best mate had left on the girl's arse cheeks.
A moment's consideration showed him a faint line of white, half-dried now, oozing down her crack from her rear hole, and Ron smiled to himself. I see why Harry said don't do that. Must've been a hell of a mess.
But her cunt was still swollen, and to the best of his knowledge, he'd never had her that way. He'd never tasted her, either, on the night they had given her her first Runes. Shit, she's got to have some self-control after all, he realized, if she got her Runes that long ago and isn't a sex-crazed fiend like the rest of us already. Ron idly rubbed her nether lips' outer folds a few times with a light touch, then kept moving around her, still tracing the angry red lines and even tweaking her left nipple a bit on his way by, until he came to her head and crouched down, much like Harry had before.
Now, it seemed Pansy was a little more aware of her surroundings, after having been touched once more several times. "Ha-... wait... W- Weasley?"
"The same," he said with a grin, thoroughly enjoying seeing his girl's old nemesis thoroughly debased like this again. "I s'pose Harry told you he left you here for me, as a present?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice shaking with something between fear and... was that lust? Ron wasn't sure, but if he had to guess, that's what he would say.
"You want me to do it? Use you like the slut you were that one night?"
The question was casual in tone, but deadly serious, and Ron meant it. Like Harry, he abhorred the thought of taking someone without consent, for all that they had both flirted dangerously close to it before. If anything, their experiences with Lavender and Romilda before her had made their reluctance worse.
"Use my slutty fuck-hole," Pansy whispered.
Ron nodded, his face carefully neutral, then stood up, his long member slapping her in the bottom of the chin. "Okay, but you have to do something for me, first."
"Hmm...? What? I'm tied-"
"Oh, you can do it while you're there," Ron assured her with a smile, twisting one of his own larger, pale but freckled hands into her dark hair. "I just want you to sing a little song for me. You know it. 'Weasley is our King! Weasley is our King!'"
She tried to look up at him, but she had been on the sawhorse too long, and couldn't lift her head more than horizontally, which put her eyes at roughly the level of the top of his thick mass of pubic hair, which was just as orange as the lot on his head. "I- I hate that song," she whimpered, "I was so mean... I'm so sorry."
"I'm not asking you to sing that song," Ron said cheerfully, "And I got over it, if you forgot the last game of the year. No, sing the Gryffindor version."
"O- oh... okay... if you- if that's what you want. If you'll use m-my slutty fuck-hole after, then... w- W-Weasley is our King. W-Weasley is our K-nmmmmmph!"
He couldn't wait, and he'd abided by Hermione's request. It was glorious, but Ron didn't want to listen to her singing. He wanted to feel good, and the helpless Slytherin before him was gagging for it. Literally, he chuckled, as his ten inches slammed into her throat, all the way back thanks to the perfect height and angle she was left at, so that his pubes smashed her once pug-nose against her face. "Ahh... that's the stuff," he groaned. Even though Hermione's blowjobs were spectacular, life-changing even, and she'd just done it twice, he still loved the feeling of sliding past lips, tongue, and the back of a mouth, being brushed by a uvula along the top, and into a tight, hot throat that convulsed immediately around him.
"Fuck," he groaned, leaning down to grope Pansy's arse with both hands, then adding a few light slaps of his own before standing up and pulling free. She hadn't moved, paralyzed by the sudden intrusion into her body, but as he came out, she coughed and spluttered. "Sh- shit," another cough, "you fucker!"
"Sorry," said Ron with a grin, absolutely not sorry at all, "I just couldn't resist. Come on, I already said I'd give you what you want. I want you to do this first. Unless you want me to just leave."
"N- No," Pansy whimpered, her body writing over the sharp edge of the saw-horse for a moment, wincing at the pain it caused, "I- I want it, I just- you s-surprised me. Y- You can use my filthy mouth-hole, Weasley. Sorry I'm not very good at- at it."
"Oh, you're alright," Ron told her as he lined back up with two fingers on his shaft's base, pointing his spear at the gap between her umber-painted lips once more. This time, while he pushed all the way in again, Pansy didn't gag. He only stayed there for a moment, before withdrawing and setting a slower, more casual pace, so that he could savor her combined expressions of disgust and pleasure at what she was doing to him, along with the feelings she provoked in his cock. Already hyper-sensitive from two mind-numbing orgasms under Hermione's oral ministrations, Ron ceased caring that Pansy wasn't nearly as experienced or talented at it. Her growing enthusiasm combined with that sensitivity made it quite a pleasurable experience anyway, and before long he had to yank himself free so she could answer a question that burned in him. "You want to taste my cum, slut?"
"Yes," Pansy moaned at once, her mouth still seeking him out even though he was far out of her reach, "I want Weasley cum in my mouth!"
Ron snorted, "Dirty girl. Alright, you asked for it."
Then he put himself back in, stepping in so she could continue working him while he closed his eyes and let himself fall fully into the sensations. After that, it was quick, less than another minute, before he painted her mouth with his hot sauce. Pansy moaned as he spurted, renewing it each time the rush of pressure left his body and entered hers, but Ron was more sanguine about it.
After he was finished, he patted her cheek, reminded her, "Swallow it all, don't waste any," then crossed around to her back again. "Harry said to leave your delicious arse alone. Seems to want that present he left you staying there. But then, I've never had a Snake's pussy before... he also said you were a pretty good lay. So I don't mind if I do."
He didn't ask again, for she'd already said she wanted him to use her.
Ron did, sliding in effortlessly through her silky smooth channel, his long rod fitting her amazingly well, just brushing the end of her vagina as it bent into her womb. Smooth or not, it caressed even his relatively thin member like a vice of liquid cream, molten and warm but so perfect. After just ten or so strokes, Ron had decided he still preferred Hermione for this, too, but being inside a Snake wasn't so bad. In fact, as he leaned forward and claimed her breasts with his hands, molding and reshaping them with a firm but not quite rough grip, he could get used to this. Maybe some Slytherins aren't too bad. I mean, I'd shag her again. And again.
It was far more than just being another willing body to get his rocks off in, Ron was a little less shallow than that. He could freely admit, at least to himself, Harry, and Hermione, that a large part of his motivation to get up in the morning these days was to see what pussy he could get, but there was indeed something rare, special, about Pansy Parkinson's twat that he had not felt before, and he could see himself coming to enjoy it quite a lot. She still had the tightest arse he'd fucked, as if he and Harry were the only ones who'd ever used it. Wonder if that's true.
Before him, Pansy was already writhing on the sawhorse, even grinding her little cunt against the edge now, seeking out more pain and pleasure combined as he drove in and out of her with a measured, steady pace designed to increase their mutual pleasure over time, but also prolong the experience for both of them.
Something Lilith had taught him, along with so much more.
"Don't worry, Pansy," he told her after a few seconds, "You can get off as much as you want. I'm starting to get like Harry, I can hold off a long, long time if I need to, and I've already finished three times tonight. I'll finish when I'm good and ready, so you may as well enjoy your orgasms while you can. I'm gonna be a while."
She groaned as if exhausted already, but he knew that wasn't the case, for she started moving even faster after he'd spoken, using what little range of motion she had to drive herself back onto him harder, faster, so that her round rump bounced and swayed every time they made contact, while his own hanging balls slapped higher, even hitting the sawhorse a few times.
"Huh, Harry was right," he told her after a few minutes more, "You are a good shag."
The only response she gave was another orgasm, but Pansy didn't stop moving. Her own Runes, much newer than Harry's but still settled in enough to be effective, still had a lot of juice left in them for the night. Which meant, of course, so did she.
"Now that I've introduced you to just about everyone worth knowing here tonight," Slughorn said jovially, nearly out of breath. After the marathon of faces and names that Harry was sure he would never remember aside from Sanguini the vampire, the first (and too-appropriately named) he'd ever met, who had leered at several of the younger witches and even Luna in a most unpleasant way, Harry spotted a face he would recognize anywhere.
A face it seemed that Slughorn had been deliberately circling, avoiding even, while Harry was around. A face that promised some measure of revenge for forcing him to attend this socialization event that seemed more suited to celebrating Slughorn and all his connections than the holidays, for all the decor and music.
"Oh, there's someone we haven't met yet, Professor," Harry said, forcing an equally excited smile onto his face, one that he hoped mimicked the dopey-eyed fangirls that had started following him around in his first year, receded for a while, and then returned with a vengeance this year. "Gwenog Jones- you said you knew her, right? My best mate's sister would die for that autograph!"
"A- Ah, y- yes," the old wizard said, nearly stumbling and falling, and definitely struggling not to turn and run, "I- how c-could I forget her, one of my most famous protegés? Ah, y- yes... I'll just introduce you both now. F- Follow me!"
With surprising grace, though he'd been displaying similar all night, Slughorn winded his way through the crowd, which was growing more lively as drinks were consumed, food eaten or forgotten about, and Lilith's pervasive powers began to work on the newcomers. Already, some of the less inhibited older folks were dancing with each other in obviously suggestive ways, heedless of the underaged students that were attending as well. The Holyhead Harpies' Captain, at least, seemed to be holding herself back. Harry decided he was grateful, for while some might consider her attractive (and he was sure Ginny had a crush on the older witch, her Quidditch hero), she was too square-faced and square-bodied for him. It was a body built for a Beater, which was her position, not the more graceful Seeker or Chaser ones that he and Ginny flew. Kind of suits Slughorn though, I'd wager, Harry thought after seeing Slughorn's apparently involuntary eye-roaming as they approached the woman.
"Oh, there you are, Sluggy," she said with a thick Welsh accent, "I've bein' lookin' fer yah for a bit! O'os this?"
"Gwenog," he beamed, hands shaking slightly as he gestured toward the Quidditch player and then back to the students, "It's my pleasure to introduce to you Harry Potter, and Miss Luna Lovegood. The first needs no introduction, of course."
Jones nodded respectfully at Harry, but didn't linger, nor did she look at his scar, which made his estimation of her rise just a little.
"And Miss Lovegood is the daughter of Xenophilia Lovegood, the editor of-"
"The Quibbler," Jones finished over him, "And it's Xenophilius, old friend. I'm a reader."
Harry gaped. Luna perked up, and went from shrinking against him as she had been for the last hour, to her normally upbeat, animated self. "Oh, really? Did you read the most recent edition?"
Jones grinned, suddenly seeming almost mad, "I did! I partic'larly liked the article about 'ow the Goblins are sett'n' up tah come after Fudge now 'at the Ministry ain't protecting 'im anymore. If ol' Ragnok the Goblin King actually does bake that nwhyllo into a pie and eat 'im, it couldn' happen to a better, more deservin' chap!"
"I agree," Luna chirped, "But what about the theory that they might transmute his body into Galleons to repay his debts?"
Jones laughed out loud, clapping her hands together and sloshing a bit of what looked like a deep burgundy wine onto the carpet a bit, "Oh, yah! Come on, lass, les' you and me go have a cha'!"
Bemused, Harry could only watch as the famous Quidditch star led his date away, both of them talking a mile a minute. After a moment, Slughorn turned back to Harry and shrugged, "Well, that's that, I suppose, eh? Sorry if I've ruined your evening, Harry, I... I didn't expect that."
"Neither did I," Harry laughed, "I've never actually met someone who avidly reads that- well, her father's magazine."
"Oh, you'd probably be surprised," Slughorn said noncommittally, "I've heard The Quibbler does alright. It's just not well-looked upon by certain, hmm... higher-society types, you know. The- the sort of people I would expect at, well..."
"One of your parties?"
Almost self-deprecating (though Harry was sure he didn't know the meaning of the phrase), Slughorn tapped his nose and gave him an almost wistful look. All around them, people still danced, talked, and networked excitedly, but for a moment, he and the professor were a patch of calm in the center of the stormy sea. "Er, if you don't mind me saying so, Harry... I'm glad you came. I'm sorry if our, er... prior engagements, our arrangements, might've... put you off, or given you the wrong impression of me. That was... a long time ago."
Harry, genuinely surprised by the true sincerity he heard in the quiet statement, could only shake his head, "Professor, whether it's the arrangement you made with my friend, or the thing you talked to a student about years ago, it's in the past. I don't think I'm in any place to judge you."
Slughorn nodded without saying anything, seeming a little relieved, but then glanced about as if remembering there were people all around. "Er... would you mind if we, well, found a quiet place to talk? Just for a moment, then I'll try and help you find your date again."
For a moment, Harry was worried the old fat man was propositioning him, but then decided that wasn't likely, and nodded. "Sure, Professor."
It didn't take long. They passed several doors that lead out of the temporary ballroom, some of which had even more attendees in various states of dress that led Slughorn, who was peeking into each room first, pulling away with an increasingly red face. On the sixth try, they found a quiet sitting room filled with a small, comfortable smoking lounge that was otherwise empty, and lit only by a few torches on the walls. "Ah, this should do," the man said, walking over to the largest, softest-looking chair and sinking into it with a long, loud sigh.
Harry joined him on another chair nearby, and reached for a carafe sitting on the table between them filled with a light amber liquid, and two crystal goblets.
"That should be a rather fine vintage of brandy, if my instructions were followed right enough," Slughorn told him, "so maybe only a few fingers for you, eh? Don't want to get into the sauce too deeply at your age, Harry."
The younger wizard nodded, pouring just a single finger for himself, but a few for the older man, who seemed suddenly very tired. "You looked like you could use it, Professor."
"As well I should," he laughed softly, then accepted the offered cup and took a sip. "I'm not as young as I used to be. I thought I could handle one more year of parties, of making new connections, but it's all just... so much work. Mind you, aside from teaching I've never actually worked a day in my life. I've done well enough for myself I don't need to, you see. People look out for me. But that... it's made me soft, too. I didn't always look like this, you know."
Harry shrugged, not sure what to say, and took a sip himself. It burned faintly, but wasn't as strong as he'd feared going down. Almost at once, he decided he wasn't a fan, but didn't want to let it go to waste. He'd at least finish what he poured. The odor was just too... acrid. Or something. Eventually, he asked, "What's bothering you, sir?"
"Am I that obvious, Harry?"
Again, he showed his age by tone alone, but the Boy-Who-Lived had learned to be a bit more discerning than most as a survival tactic, and those perception skills had only improved over the years. "Not really, sir, I doubt anyone but me noticed in there. But it's clear something is."
Slughorn nodded, then took a deep breath and slammed back the rest of his brandy, setting the empty cup on the table and sighing. "It's just that... well, a part of me feels like my life's been a waste. I've never made anything, never done anything, except teach and grow my network of friends. And I know, I know those are important. I've helped make many careers, and launched several starting businesses into major successes in my time. I've helped mold an entire generation of young minds, taught them valuable skills. But I've never married. The one person I ever thought I could settled down for, well... she's a lot younger. You know."
Harry did. He nodded, "Not my type, but I suppose I can see the appeal. Seems a bit full of herself at first, but the Quibbler thing means she has a sense of humor, at least."
Slughorn nodded, casting him a side-eye, "It's odd that I feel almost comfortable talking to you, of all people, a student of mine, about this when I'm not able to even bring it up with my oldest friends. But I feel like you understand."
"Succubus."
"Yes, there is that. I suppose in a way you do. It didn't start out that way, you know. She was just a young, vivacious student with a great deal of talent. It was only as she got older, in her sixth and seventh years, that I realized I was... well, that I had more than entirely professional feelings."
"You were attracted."
Slughorn nodded.
Harry felt strangely like a therapist and a confessor all at once, but for some reason, he didn't care. He didn't have to listen to the older man, who didn't need to justify himself to Harry anyway. Yet, what did it cost him? Nothing. And it might help the old man find some kind of inner peace after... however long this had been eating at him. So he remained silent, watching and listening.
"Of course, I was in my forties already when she graduated, and why would a famous, attractive witch her age- who clearly preferred her own gender anyway, even back then when it was a little less acceptable socially- want an old man like me? So I did nothing, tried to move on. And I never did find another quite like her. Even your... friend. It- mind you, it was an amazing experience, but... it still wasn't quite the same. I knew."
Harry nodded sagely, but felt the need to add, "I don't need the details, sir. That's between you and her. I'm glad she could help, but I'm sorry it wasn't quite what you'd hoped for."
"Oh, it was, and more," Slughorn said idly, waving his hand to ward off the concern, "but it wasn't... her. Ah, well. Too late now, I suppose. About the other thing..."
"The... thing in the past? Older?"
Slughorn nodded, his face darkening, "That memory is... dangerous. I hope Dumbledore destroyed it."
"I don't know if he did or didn't," Harry admitted, "but we've seen it, both of us and Lilith."
Slughorn nodded with a low sigh, "I assumed as much. I hope... you don't think less of me."
Harry considered his words for a moment, then decided a bit of a lie combined with truth was in order, if only to keep from burning one more bridge in his life. "Whether I think less of you or not doesn't matter, sir. What matters is that we're one step closer to stopping him. We think we know how many there are, and Professor Dumbledore is actively hunting them down. Has been for a while, he told me a bit ago. He has less now, at least one has been destroyed."
Slughorn's eyes widened, "They have?"
Harry nodded, "In my second year, without knowing what it was, I stabbed one with a Basilisk fang."
Slughorn paled, "You- a Basilisk?"
Harry grinned, though he hated recalling that terrible day, "I'll have to tell you about it sometime. But it's getting on, and I need to find my date. But no, Professor, I don't think any less of you. He fooled a lot of people back then. That age- sixteen- is when he made the diary I destroyed. The Headmaster and I both think he asked you about it after making that first one. He isn't invincible."
"Thank Merlin for that," Slughorn muttered, then reached over with two flabby arms to pour another glass of brandy, "You'd best get on, as you said, Potter. Enjoy the rest of the party. I'll see you after the break, if I don't make it back out."
"Alright, sir. Merry Christmas."
"And Merry Christmas to you, young man."
He didn't see Slughorn again that night, but after collecting a still-grinning Luna from beside Gwenog Jones (with an autograph she had obtained for Ginny on his behalf and her own too), the two left the party long before most of the guests had done so, or entered into too much debauchery.
They kept up an animated discussion of Gwenog Jones' favorite theories about the government and how the muggles were trying to subvert the Ministry of Magic using their own tabloids to spread false information about magical creatures and alien mind-control devices the entire way, until at last arriving at the bronze eagle knocker that would lead them inside Ravenclaw's Common Room.
But Luna did not knock on it. Instead, she turned to Harry and asked, "Are we friends, Harry?"
He blinked, taken aback, "Of course we are, Luna. Why would you ask that?"
"Have you lied to me in the last seventy-two hours?"
He had to think very hard about that, but eventually had to shake his head, "I don't think so."
"Then where are my benefits?"
He blinked. "What?"
"My benefits."
"I'm... afraid I don't follow."
Luna huffed exasperatedly, and poked him in the chest with a finger softly. "You said there were benefits to being your friend. I want mine."
"I'm... don't take this the wrong way, Luna, but what are you talking about?"
He honestly hadn't made the connection, which made him feel even more stupid when she held up three fingers. "Three times now, Harry Potter, I have asked you if we are going to have sex. I have used different words each time, in hopes you would get the message. I'm tired of waiting."
He blinked again. "What? When? When did you ask me- that?"
"The astronomy tower last year was the first. Yesterday, and when I asked if there were benefits to being your friend."
Harry was... floored wasn't the right word. Now that she mentioned them, he could see why and what she was implying, but... she'd seemed almost... accusatory, on the tower. As if daring him to do it.
Daring...
Oh, shit.
"I- I thought you... wouldn't be interested in... well, things like that," he told her lamely.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, "Am I not a human? A witch? Do I not have hormones? Or feelings?"
"I... don't know what to say," he replied, fighting down a blush, "I just... sort of assumed, I suppose. Now I feel bad. You... you really wanted to, last year?"
"No, of course not," Luna shook her head, "but if you had wanted me to, I would have."
"But now? What's changed? It hasn't even been a year."
"Now," Luna said, smiling as she poked him again, "I have been feeling the Lady of Dreams' effects for several months longer, I am older, and more prepared. And you are more able to make sure I enjoy it. I haven't been with a man, you know, and I understand it can be unpleasant the first few times."
Harry blinked. Then flushed, deeply, and glanced around to ensure there was no one listening it. But it was now after eleven, and only the late-night patrols were still wandering the castle in all likelihood. "Er... well, I... I suppose we can, er, do things."
One of Luna's eyebrows rose impressively high, the other dropping slightly in counterpoint. "Do you not want to? Or is it that you don't want to with me? I had thought you did not mind who it was, for the most part."
"No, I- I do," he stammered, completely bamboozled yet again by her odd but still unfailing logic, "I just... I'm a bit blind-sided. I thought you really meant, you know, as friends. Not... like, romantically."
"Since when does the Summoner and Contractor of a Succubus equate sex and love?"
Harry had no good answer to that, so he smiled a bit ruefully at himself, "Well, I... I do prefer it with people that I have, er, more feelings for. But I know it isn't, um, necessary to... enjoy it."
"That's why you'll enjoy being with me more, I think," Luna declared, "So are we going to do it, or not?"
"I... I suppose we are," Harry chuckled, wiping a hand over his face. He was more than able, and even strangely eager, but until that very evening he could not recall ever even looking at Luna Lovegood as a sexual being. Now, he was forced to confront that she had been flirting with him in her own odd way for almost a year, and was seemingly quite eager to move things forward between them, relationship or not.
"You don't have to worry about me spilling your secrets, Harry," she reassured him, putting her arm through his elbow once more and leading them down into the hallways of the castle proper, "I'm sure you know I can keep them if I wish. So be good to me tonight, and I'll try and be good to you. I'm not asking for a relationship based on anything more than friendship and fornication."
Harry coughed. "Er... a- alright..."
"For now."
He didn't know what to say to that, so Harry wisely kept silent.
About five minutes later, they were back on the ground floor, and Luna took them into an even more unexpected direction: the Great Hall. Harry let her lead him on a bit further, passing the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables on the right, then between the badger's table and Ravenclaw's, all the way to the far end near the raised dais that held the staff and visitor's table. "I'd like to do it right here, if we could, Harry," the girl said quietly, turning to look up at him.
The entire area was bathed in moonlight since the moon was nearly full, and only a few high, wispy clouds obscured the rich starlight that streamed through the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling. Luna's skin, already fairly pale despite being an outdoors-loving young lady, shone like her namesake itself, and the silver of her dress seemed to sparkle even more radiantly than it had the first time he'd seen her that evening.
All of this, as her eyes gave off a faint hint of mystery and magic while they lay half-shaded by her face, made Harry realized he'd been very remiss earlier. "Ah... I'm sorry, Luna, I forgot to mention something when we met up earlier. You look radiant tonight. Absolutely stunning."
He'd never seen Luna blush before. Pink just a little, certainly, but not the deep color that flushed down the generous cleavage she displayed, covering the entire top of both breasts as far as her dress would let him see, her neck, and both shoulders. She smiled demurely, but didn't break eye contact. "Thank you, Harry. I know you are only saying that because you want to get into my dress, but-"
"No, really," Harry assured her, taking her upper arms in a soft grip and stepping back, letting his eyes roam freely over what he'd been too blind to see before. "You really do, and it's not just... I was an idiot. Thanks for opening my eyes."
"A line cleverly chosen to open my legs," Luna said with a giggle, "but what you don't realize, Harry, is that they were open for you last year."
He frowned down at her, "I'm trying to be serious, Luna."
"That seems rather silly. Sirius is your godfather, isn't he? You should be Harry. I'm not interested in having sex with Stubby Boardman. I heard he gets around rather a lot, and he doesn't have good taste in women."
Harry spluttered, "I- I get around a lot too!"
"But you have excellent taste. At least, that's what Ginny tells me."
Harry only realized she was teasing him when she reached a hand, palm out, to cup his crotch, lightly kneading his balls through his trousers and boxers. "Harry," she told him, "I don't care about the others at all. Tonight, I just want you to be with me."
Harry sighed, and once again decided that honesty and openness would serve him well. Besides, he could not, would not, lie to Luna Lovegood. She, of all people, would never hear a falsehood from his lips if he could help it. Unless it involved a prank, anyway. So he turned around her, spinning her in his grip slowly, and sat on the edge of the table facing the staff table. "Luna, are you sure about this? Once... once it's done, there's no going back."
Luna's eyebrows raised along with her luscious, suddenly very kissable mouth curving into a smile. "Of course I am, Harry. Why do you think I've waited? I might be a bit strange, but I'm far from stupid. I am a Ravenclaw."
"No, I know that," he replied, unable to fight down a smile of his own, "It's just... people that I am with, they tend to... want more. I'm not talking about not being a virgin any more, and not being able to get that back. I feel honored, truly, that you want your first time to be with me."
"Who said it was my first time?"
That made Harry blink. "Er... what?"
"You'll be the first man to be inside me," she assured him with a soft, secret smile he'd never seen on her face before, "but I am not a virgin."
"Er... I..."
"Oh, Harry, lighten up," she giggled again, stepping a bit closer and booping his nose with a well-manicured finger. "I don't know why you're so hesitant. I'm not."
He sighed, then tried again. If he were honest with himself, and he tried to be, he really just wanted to ravish her as he'd done with Pansy earlier, forget all his worries. But there was something about Luna that made her special to him in a way that no one else was. Perhaps her innocent purity, the child-like wonder with which she viewed the world. Maybe it was the way she made him feel normal. "I don't want our relationship to change," he said quietly, eyes searching hers. "I like our friendship, Luna. I like how you talk to me, how you make me feel by just being you. I don't want to risk... losing that."
There was a beat, then two, and suddenly Luna was in his embrace, holding him tightly with her head buried in his neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, "Why would that change? Is Hermione any less brilliant, stuck in her ways, or less your friend? Is Ginny less devoted to you and Quidditch? I don't think they are. This is just another way to become close."
"I... I suppose..."
She was right, he realized. Entirely. Hermione was still very much herself, and their relationship outside of sex had not changed much at all. If anything, it had brought their other activities a new sense of satisfaction and wholeness, knowing that they would be doing more later. Ginny had not really been his girlfriend before they had made love out in the grounds that night by the lake, but he had known her fairly well as Ron's sister if nothing else. She still loved the same things, talked and acted the same way. True, there was less time for other things, since much of their free time was spent indulging in their passions. But they still did all those things.
So why was he worried about it being different with her?
"Like I said, I've been a moron," Harry told the girl in his arms, "You're right. No more hesitating. How would you like to do it, Luna?"
"However you'd like me," she told him airily, pulling out of his arms to do a little spin in front of him with her hands high overhead, making her dress swish as it rose into the air. "But first I think I need to be out of these dress robes. I wouldn't want them damaged."
"Right, of course," Harry murmured, rising to his feet fully to help unzip the back as she turned away and lifted her voluminous hair to the side. It almost seemed like a Veela's in the moonlight, shimmering and silver like her dress, but a lighter shade. As the zip went lower and lower, Luna's back was revealed in its slender glory, unblemished but for a few very faint freckles. Harry found himself with the irresistible urge to kiss each one, which he began doing as the zipper hit her bum and stopped. Luna giggled as his lips first met her skin, and held her dress up with her arms while she let him do it.
Once the job was done, she looked over her shoulder again, then shrugged and let the dress robes fall. They gathered briefly at her waist, but their own weight pulled them inexorably past her luscious thighs to pool around her ankles. Luna stepped out of it, revealing a bum firmer than even Ginny's, almost like Hermione's, and thick, toned thighs that seemed incongruous yet matched perfectly with her more slender waist, hips, and upper body. He couldn't see any detail in the shadows created by her own body, but after she was further away, Luna turned to face him, her arms covering her breasts, mostly, and one hand nestling, framing her groin but not covering it.
"Stunning," Harry repeated, taking in each curve and valley of her arms, how her lower arm pushed into and restrained her chest even more than the dress had, yet covered less as it bulged around the appendage. The oddly toned, flat stomach. She must exercise, not many witches in Hogwarts have a four-pack. It's not a bodybuilder's, but damn, Luna... How her waist was narrower than he had expected, usually hidden by robes, but even her dress had not done it justice. But her thighs were thick and muscled too, and Harry found himself licking his lips as he imagined diving between them, taking the place of her hand as he peppered the pale skin with more kisses under the moonlight. She would feel divine, clamping them around his head while she climaxed beneath his tongue.
Harry was hot, burning inside, and he realized in that moment that he needed to be wearing less, or he would overheat. With haste, he started undoing the red and green buttons of his own dress robes, stripping out of it as fast as he could while keeping his eyes on the vision of loveliness that stood before him, watching his clumsy motions.
When the upper part was off, Luna bent to gather her dress, stepping past him for a moment to lay it over the table gently, smoothing it out of a few wrinkles, and then took his shirt to do the same beyond it. Her shoes and stockings were now all she wore, he realized, finally able to tear his eyes away as the spell was broken. The witch seemed to have no intention of removing them, but Harry did not mind at all. There was something about seeing her nude aside from the stockings and heels that reminded him of several of the porn stars he'd seen on Dudley's computer or in the old magazines he had used before the last summer.
It was strangely erotic, and he couldn't wait once again to feel her legs around his head. But it seemed the girl had other plans, for once his shirt was safely placed on the table, his half-undone trousers were taken over by her. Luna pushed Harry back onto the table, and assisted him out of his shoes, socks, and pants slowly, but left his crimson and gold (of course) boxers on for the moment. That didn't stop her from fishing his erection back down beneath the waistband, then pulling it out through the hole to stand between them almost like a reverse-arched bridge. "Spectacular," she whispered, then wrapped her long, cool fingers around it and started to stroke.
"Oh, yeah," Harry groaned, thrusting his hips almost involuntarily into Luna's grip. He would never have imagined the quirky girl to be so good with her hands, but as she started moving faster, twisting with each tug, Harry could not help but realize she was bringing him more pleasure than his hands ever had. That was really saying something, as he'd been masturbating more than five times a day before summoning Lilith. He had a lot of practice.
"Y- You're really good at that, Luna," he told her sincerely.
She smiled up at him, "I know. I've been doing it for a while. Thank you for noticing, though. I have been practicing for you."
"A- Ah... I see. Who- who've you been practicing on?"
"That's my secret," Luna said with a coy little giggle, "but I'll tell you later. You can ejaculate on my hands if you wish, but I will want more."
As good as it felt, Harry wanted more, too. So he let her jerk him off a bit longer, revelling in the act of giving pleasure she seemed to want as much as he did, then stood up, pushing her back, and threw his arms around her rear end, lifting her into the air. She squealed a little, her hands coming around his neck along with her powerful thighs wrapping reflexively around his waist as he lifted her into the air. She was placed where he had just been, suddenly grinning like a madwoman. "Are you going to put it in me now, Harry?"
"No," he told her, making the girl ask a simple question.
"Why not?"
"Because I want to taste you," he replied honestly, "I've been thinking about your legs around my head for several minutes, you know."
"Oh. They've never... done that," she whispered. "Normally they just want to penetrate me and be done."
Harry blinked, looking up at her. It wasn't necessarily that Luna had been with others, plural. He didn't care about that, as long as she was happy. She'd even said he was the first man to be inside her, when that actually happened. But what kind of sex was she talking about that was just penetration? Boring! "You're missing out, then," he told her.
"Mm... maybe," she replied, the same shy, almost mysterious smile flittering across her youthful features once more, "but I haven't had a reason to complain yet. It feels quite good, you know, when they do that. But I'm eager to see what you mean, Harry."
"All in good time," he said softly. It was a bit worrisome to be doing this, both of them naked or nearly so, in the Great Hall, but the hour was late and he didn't worry much about patrols or teachers finding them. If they did, well... these days, no one seemed to even care.
Maybe they'd join in.
Rather than immediately start eating her out, Harry lifted one of Luna's legs to his shoulder-height, kissing the inside of her ankle, then drawing a long, waving line with his mouth up the inside of her right calf, past the knee to about half-way up her thick thigh, and then left it hanging over his shoulder while he bent her right leg further to repeat the passage. The whole while, Luna watched him eagerly, her lips parted slightly as she watched him tenderly express his love for what might just be her favorite feature about herself.
Once he had reached the mid-point on the left side, he started moving back and forth between the sides, kissing higher and higher, and even started nibbling on her tender skin in a few sensitive spots. When he reached her core, though, Harry stopped kissing entirely, with her ankles crossed over his back. "This is a view I could get used to," he murmured, "but I'm not ready for that yet. Do your previous lovers give any attention to the rest of you?"
Luna shrugged, which made her chest, now bare before him, jiggle. It was hard to tell exactly what color her nipples were in the moonlight, but he suspected a very light pink. They were almost invisible against the other flesh, but the large globes caught his attention completely. "Tell me," he urged, "what your previous lovers do to make you feel good besides using your beautiful sex."
He meant that, too. Luna had a thin landing strip shaved in, but was otherwise bare as a child down there, and her soft, pink petals were already open and dripping, thickly mounded and eager for his entrance.
But he moved up higher, letting her legs slide down to circle his waist again instead, and let his large cock press against her slit while he leaned down over her and took a breast in each hand, rolling it gently back and forth, then pressing them together and sliding her flesh against itself. He was honestly quite impressed with her proportions. Luna was a slight girl, taller than Ginny but only a little thicker, but her chest rivalled Hermione's in size, and her tits were round and firm despite that. He loved them completely, and bent down to worship one nipple with his mouth too, as she gasped.
"They... they sometimes do that, or something like it," she whispered, "and they go into my bum, or my vagina, or my mouth. They go in and out a lot, and it feels good, no matter how deep they go. Sometimes they suck on my little clit. That feels really good, but it's almost too much."
Her words caused another twinge of curiosity in Harry's mind at what exactly she was referring to, but it was quickly pushed out of his focus by the feel of her nipple swelling and growing what felt like diamond-hard in his mouth. After working it like that a few seconds longer, he switched the sides. Once both were hard and erect, he pulled back to admire their altered appearance, before leaving another trail of kisses down her stomach. This time, as he knelt, Harry didn't pull back.
Instead, he kissed the top of her slit directly, then let his tongue dart out into the hollow above her hood and below where the slit started, working that area gently for several seconds that left Luna's breathing ragged and quick. "Harry," she gasped, "I... I..."
"Just enjoy it," he told her, "but tell me if it's too much."
"Okay." Luna agreed, her voice raspy with need. She relaxed onto the table below her, and lifted her hands to take the place of his, kneading and tweaking at her breasts while his tongue slipped lower and to the sides. Between labia and mons down one side and then up the other, and then into the inner folds, he licked up and down, side to side, with tiny little motions that almost felt like he was vibrating his muscle against her while he moved in a spiral ever inward. It took him only a moment to identify her flavor, which Harry noted with a smile stretching across his face, for it was divine. Chocolate and treacle. Goddesses above!
Before pushing it inside, Harry slipped back a few inches, long tongue still flicking against the labia itself, rolling her swollen flesh to either side and back, to admire the flower that was spread before him. Her clit was tiny indeed, possibly the smallest he'd seen. By now, he knew that made it more sensitive. The same number of nerve endings packed into a smaller place had that effect. So he didn't do more than blow on it directly, and barely touched even the hood with the softest parts of his tongue, but each time he did Luna shuddered and shook beneath him.
After several minutes of eating her out, and at least two orgasms, Harry finally pushed his magically-lengthened tongue inside her, and he groaned at the combination of some of his favorite flavors covering his entire tongue as he worked it in and out, twisting and rolling inside Luna's sex far enough to push directly up into the most sensitive parts behind her clit.
Almost at once, Luna moaned and gasped, pushed into her third orgasm as he did so, and for the first time, she bucked against his face, her hands suddenly fisting tightly, amost painfully, into his shaggy hair. Harry kept going, but looked up through the valley of her breasts to see Luna's jaw working rapidly, silently, as her back arched in one direction, her hips in the other as she tried to force him deeper, get more of his tongue inside her.
Harry obliged, using his Succubus-given ability to lengthen and grow his tongue even further, delving deep, deep inside and filling, stretching her entire channel so that he could feel each and every ridge and fold of it, and the very tip nestled into the hole that curved up into her womb.
The moment he made contact there, his tongue larger than it had ever been except when doing the same with Lavender and Lilith, she gasped his name just once, her whole body seizing in her strongest climax yet, far harder than the first three. "H-Haarrryyyennnnngh!"
She was motionless, aside from a faint tremble, for more than thirty seconds. Harry did not stop, though. He did slow his motions a bit, lest he overwhelm the girl, but he still pumped and writhed his tongue inside her body, while his arms shook with the effort of keeping her thighs from trying to crush his head.
Even with the magical strength he now had, it took a bit of work. Yet knowing he had driven her so wild gave Harry a heady rush of satisfaction and pride as he slowly shrank his tongue back down to normal and withdrew it, then began kissing up her body again to let his lips meet hers, which were still panting. It took her a few seconds to start kissing him back, but the moment his tongue joined the fray, so did hers, and soon they were fighting for dominance.
Or, perhaps, she just wanted more.
When he pulled away, Luna's eyes were heavy-lidded but filled with want and need. "That was... amazing," she murmured, "I've never tested my cum before, only theirs."
"You taste perfect," Harry told her seriously, "I mean that. I'll eat your pussy every day if you want, Luna. Every single day."
"I think I'd like that too much," she giggled, still out of breath, "but I'm not finished. I hope you are ready for the rest."
He nodded. His cock was throbbing, actually, and eating the girl out for more than fifteen minutes had left his balls heavy and aching to vent some pressure. "I am. Are you ready?"
"Put it in me," she said quietly, her legs coming back up to circle his waist again, "Penetrate my deepest parts, Harry. Make me feel good with a man's dick. When you cum, do it all the way inside me, like they do."
There was that strange, curious twinge again, but Harry didn't care in that moment. What mattered to him was making her wish come true, and his own growing, desperate need for release. It took him just two strokes, thanks to his previous experiences, to find the entrance with his hips alone. Harry didn't drive in roughly or slowly, but at a measured, medium pace that stretched and moved her body against him even more than his tongue had. Luna took his size easily despite her slightly small frame, and her own pelvis and hips began rolling and circling as he passed the half-way mark. Once again, he pushed into her womb, but the younger girl did not seem to experience any pain from it as his head burst into a larger, almost friction-free area after passing a narrower, firmer channel. "That doesn't hurt you?"
She shook her head, then leaned up with a quirky grin to kiss his nose. "They go much further all the time. It hurt the first few dozen, but..."
Harry blinked. "How many times have these mysterious lovers, uh, penetrated you, Luna?"
"Oh," she replied airily, "hundreds. I started using them for pleasure in my third year. At least every few days, and I have things to use at home now, too."
Harry knew she lived alone with her father, and for a moment he thought she had been fucking him, too. But no, she'd said he was the only man to be in her.
A woman, then, with toys? Or... something else?
He pushed the thought, for the moment at least, from his mind as she reached to pull him down for another kiss, then whispered against his lips, "Penetrate me hard, Harry. I'm close again, and I want to feel a man inside me so badly."
He obliged, quickly picking up the pace so that he was pumping every second or two, slapping his scrotum against her little bum-hole. Not roughly, but fast and hard all the same, while her hips seemed to move on her own, grinding her clitoris against him and making the angle and pressure on his schlong change with every motion. He kissed her again as sweat began to bead on both their brows despite the cool air in the late-night hall in winter, and soon lost himself to the endless, primal motions once more.
Luna climaxed first, and again, her walls shuddering and clasping even harder at him while Harry drove into her womb deeper and deeper, her whole body clutching at him with increasingly desperate need. Her own arousal and lust tipped him off the cliff as well, and as Harry released, she came again, shuddering and moaning his name once more as she felt his hot seed splash against her womb's walls, just as so many things had before. But Harry was even warmer, and she felt the indescribable rush of it pass over her consciousness like a wave of purest bliss.
Too soon, Harry had to pull out. Even though he'd only climaxed with her once, Harry was already too sensitive for more just then, thanks to his earlier time with Pansy. While he could perform, he didn't really want to, and the closure he felt sharing Luna's first time 'with a man', whatever she'd meant by that, was enough to satisfy him for now. "Thank you," he murmured, kissing the girl's closed eyes, then her own nose in return, and her lips as he pulled slowly free.
"Thank you, Harry," Luna said with a very pleased, soft smile that still held some of the same mysterious quirk. "I hope this isn't the last time we benefit from our friendship. I enjoyed myself quite a lot."
"I did, too," he told her, and fondled her breasts a moment longer as he popped free to leave a long strong of his jizz falling slowly to the stone floor, "I... I can't believe I didn't notice you like this until today."
"Sometimes we fail to see what is right before our eyes," Luna said with a soothing voice, then hiked up onto her elbows. "I will be happy to take a set of Runes or two, whenever you want me to, Harry. I quite enjoyed having a human inside me."
"A... a human?"
Luna grinned, "I've pleasured several beings, Harry, but I think I like humans the most. At least, yours."
"I, er..."
Luna reached a hand between her legs, scooped up some of his leavings, and brought it to her mouth, tasting it and rolling it over her tongue for several seconds before swallowing with a considering look. "Yes, humans taste better, too. I like what they put in me, but you taste... sweeter."
"Er..."
"I'll show you, if you want, Harry. Not tonight, though. I'm quite well-fucked."
The language coming out of the seemingly innocent girl's mouth made him laugh as she hopped up, heedless of his cum running down her legs and into her stockings, and stepped over to slip into her dress again while he hurried to dress himself.
Once he was fully clothed, she turned back to him again and held her hair up, "Zip?"
He did so, pressing one more kiss to her bare shoulders. "I really can't believe I didn't notice you before tonight. This was truly special to me. You are special to me."
"Thank you, Harry. As the first man and the first friend to penetrate me, you are special, too. And because we are friends."
"Er, thanks."
"Next month, I'll show you the one that took my virginity," Luna told him without turning around, looking over her shoulder instead, "If you want to know."
"I think I do," he murmured, putting an arm around her stomach and pulling her against him, "I want to know what an amazing young woman like yourself uses for pleasure."
"Besides you?"
He nodded and chuckled, "Yes, besides me."
"Then I'll show you. It will be on a weekend- ah, but the Hols. I suppose it will have to wait until term resumes."
"Damn."
"Indeed, I probably am," Luna said with a grin as she turned to face him again, pulling free of his arms as she walked backward toward the door, "but I don't mind, if I can keep feeling like I do right now. Good night, Harry Potter. This was an excellent date. Thank you for inviting me."
"Er, thank you for coming. I'm glad you had fun," he answered as he slipped his last shoe on and hurried to catch up. "I hope it isn't the last, too."
"Oh, we'll fuck again," Luna assured him, "I was serious about the Runes. The Lady of Dreams has told me several times that she was waiting only for this night before she invites me to get some."
"Oh."
"Don't worry, Harry. Just because Ronald and the Lady will fill my pussy several times doesn't mean I don't still like yours the best. And I do so want to see what all the fuss is about Ginny's mouth. The Lady can't stop talking about it when we meet at night."
Harry grinned, "She does give rather good cunnilingus."
"After what you've done, it is a high standard to beat, but I'm sure she will do her best. Ginny doesn't like to lose."
"No," he laughed, "No she doesn't."
They had more banal, normal conversation (for Luna) as they returned to the Ravenclaw knocker again. After answering the riddle it presented with some ease (though it stumped Harry for a bit), she leaned up to kiss him once more, giving him a final, slightly faded taste of treacle and chocolate, and then stepped into the dimly-lit, spacious and wide-open Ravenclaw Common Room and disappeared.
Shaking his head bemusedly at how the night had turned out, he made his careful way, cloak about him just in case, down to his private quarters once more.
What he found there gave him a bit of a shock.
Glossary: