In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 2: Paris
They spent several nights in Brussels, waking up on their second morning, Thursday the fourth, to Ron's now blue hair. All starkers, Gia, Harry, and Hermione laid on the bed watching Ron standing before the mirror.
"It's a new me," Ron said, doing a strongman pose flexing his biceps, "I've got talent."
Harry chuckled.
"It's better than yours," Ron said.
"Swotting it?" Harry asked.
He's just jealous," Ron said to Hermione.
Hermione, though, her eyes repeatedly traveled the handsome, a bit towering, still slender, figure standing in front of the mirror. Her smile showed her approval. Gia, though, turned her head toward Hermione, past Harry's head.
"Dunno about you Hermione," Gia said, "Could be a fluke, but how they talk the talk, can they even use their tools properly?"
Harry loosened his hands, buried his face in his pillow.
"If they could," Hermione said, "It'd still take them a fortnight just to get started."
"Stick to the self–admiration Ron," Gia said.
Harry snorted.
"Maybe just the right book could help them," Hermione said.
Ron groaned.
"Don't worry Harry," Gia said, "We'll get you sorted out."
"I think I know where it goes," Harry said.
"Maybe we should make Hermione….say, purple?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head.
After breakfast, when it was already becoming quite warm, the four left the hostel. Ron's blue eyes widened, lighting up as he saw the brown sign.
"Chocolate!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry chuckled.
"Erotic Chocolate?!" Hermione stammered.
Harry opened the door to "Chocolats Érotiques", the blackened windows allowed the red illumination to maintain the atmosphere inside. Hermione picked up a chocolate dildo.
"Eww!" Ron said.
Meanwhile, Harry stopped in front of some vanilla chocolate breasts. His hands mimicked the ones on display, his fingers on the glass guard, before he turned and placed them over Gia's.
"Yours are better," Harry said.
Gia coughed.
"What about the sling shots?" Ron said, now next to Harry, looking at a display of lacey chocolate brassieres.
"Boys!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Like they'd ever grow out of it," Gia said, "Hopeless. Reverse the charge though."
Hermione looked at Gia and grinned.
"What?!" Harry demanded.
Gia shaped her hands as the breasts, pressed them against Harry's chest. Harry sighed.
"Hers win the contest," Ron said.
"Thanks," Harry quipped.
Gia had already turned around and was admiring a light chocolate replica of the Greek statue David.
"Do they do status of anybody?" Gia asked.
"Yes," said the shopkeeper, looking worried about this strange party, in broken English, "Anybody. Price depends. Pictures."
Gia studied the price sheet.
"Yes," the shop keeper said, "Costs."
"Gia," Ron said, "What are you planning?"
"Yes," Gia said, ignoring Ron as she grabbed Harry, pulled him into view of the shop keeper, "Him."
"Interesting idea," Hermione said.
A moment later, Gia flashed her credit card, and the shopkeeper nodded. After swiping it, he directed Harry and Gia into the back room. Ron, however, went and stood by Hermione.
"Who'd in their right mind—" Ron started.
"Dunno, it's the holiday," Hermione said, "If they want a chocolate statue, they'll get a chocolate statue."
A few minutes later, Harry and Gia returned; Gia filled out the paperwork while Harry stood next to Ron examining some liquid chocolate.
"You just consented to a statue," Ron said, "You realize that, right?"
"It's not like we're going to carry it back," Harry said, "Shipping it to Hermione's house."
"What?" Hermione said, glaring at Harry, "Realize the fits my parents would have should that much chocolate arrive."
"Harry," Ron said, as he watched Hermione roll her eyes over and over, "I'll get a House–Elf to do it when we get to Hogwarts. Her parents might like it for their office."
"Right," Hermione said slowly, "You don't know what a dentist does, do you?"
They left the shop.
By Friday evening, they had made it to Luxembourg, where they approached an opera house.
"Doesn't look fun," Ron said.
"Gia and I will be watching the opera," Hermione said, "You can meet us afterwards, or, at the hostel. You know where that is?"
"Yeah," Harry said.
"We'll see you later," Hermione said as she and Gia entered the opera house.
Harry sprinted, kicked, his glasses wobbled as he kicked a small can that laid on the street; it skidded across and hit a lamp post.
Chink
Harry and Ron walked along the pavement, the heat blasting up at them, street lights shimmered on their skin; their armpits were soaked with sweat.
"Argh!" Ron exclaimed, "It's boring without the girls!"
"We've had fun before without them," Harry said, "Play with our wands?"
"In full view of the Muggles?" Ron asked.
Harry got close to Ron, his nose flared.
"Alright," Harry said, "Flying."
"Hardly an improvement," Ron said.
"Get drunk?" Harry asked.
"Blimey! I'm turning into Hermione!" Ron exclaimed.
"Boxing then," Harry said, stepping up to an advertisement on a lamp post, "Come on."
Harry sped up, Ron followed.
"What is boxing?" Ron asked.
"Just wait," Harry said.
Sweat was rolling from parts that they hadn't realized could sweat, the beads dribbled off of them as they approached a shady building. Light gave a faint rainbow effect from the droplets dripping from Harry.
"I've already sent several to the hospital for heat exhaustion," the guard said, "So I'll overlook—are you eighteen?" He studied Harry, whose round glasses had beads of sweat running down them.
"Yes," Harry said, handing the guard a banknote.
"What?" Ron asked.
"It's…" Harry started as they entered, however, stopped as the young crowd drowned them out.
Harry and Ron squeezed into the crowd toward the back; Ron could see over the heads, but Harry was shorter.
"My shoulders," Ron said, squatting.
"Thanks," Harry said as he took the jump, sat on Ron's shoulders.
A fist to the chest, the boxers in the ring kept at it, a left and a right, the punching kept on; the rumble of the crowd too loud to hear the action. They watched several rounds.
Ron felt Harry's legs really twitching; he glanced up at Harry's shaking face, the eyes twitching but fixated, mouth starting to move. Ron moved, carried Harry still sitting on his shoulders, out of the crowd. Ron squatted to let Harry down, before standing again. Ron's eyes studied Harry's, the bottle green eyes were still glazed over, the jaw rapidly moving up and down. Ron placed his right arm around Harry, the left on the other shoulder.
"Harry," Ron said, "Come on."
"All that…" Harry muttered, coming with Ron, "All so pointless."
They reached the exit.
"What's the matter?" shouted a young man, nearby, "Babies can't take a punch?"
Ron ignored the man, guided Harry.
"Harry," Ron said, "Come on."
The man walked, followed Harry and Ron for a short distance.
"Gay babies need a lesson in manners!"
Ron turned his head to the man, fist at the ready. Ron channeled his anger into a bit of wandless magic; the man tripped and collapsed onto the pavement. Ron guided Harry to a park, a nice park, with benches and a fountain in the middle. Ron lowered Harry to one of the benches near the fountain. Ron felt Harry's forehead, much warmer than Ron liked.
"Cool off," Ron said, grabbing Harry and pulling him over to the decorative fountain, into the shower of cold water.
"Hermione cleaned us this morning," Harry said.
"So, what did that remind you of?" Ron asked; he had a hunch.
"You're prying," Harry replied.
"It reminded you of something," Ron said, "Spit it out the easy way."
"Hogwarts," Harry said.
Ron knew what Harry was talking about, the brutal violence the Death Eaters had staged during their temporary occupation of the school at the end of their fifth year, fights to the death of the victims over minor design points to their new Hogwarts crest.
"So, why bother going to this?" Ron asked.
"Dunno," Harry said, "Dudley watches it a lot."
"Lets get to the girls, even if it means a bit of…" Ron said.
"Don't say it," Harry said.
Harry and Ron returned to the opera house. With the show nearly over, Harry and Ron slipped in. They pushed Hermione and Gia apart as they sat.
"So," Hermione said, "You still claim this isn't interesting?"
"Maybe it's you," Ron said, softly, "Did you realize that Harry goes through a painful withdrawal every time he's separated from Gia?"
"I can only imagine," Hermione said dryly as she rolled her eyes.
After having caught the train to Paris on Saturday, they found themselves queuing Sunday morning at the entrance to the Louvre, when Hermione surveyed the line.
"Breakfast should not have waited," Hermione said.
"Go get something," Harry said, "It's not like this is going that fast—you've got time. We'll keep your place."
Gia joined Hermione in wandering off.
"Can't believe they persuaded us—" Harry said to Ron.
"I know, I know…" Ron said, "But hey—it is faster to not worry about it."
"True," Harry said
The queue started to move as Gia and Hermione came back.
"Glad you missed us," Hermione said.
They entered the Louvre and went down the escalator.
"What about flying?" Ron asked.
"These things don't fly," Hermione said.
Harry laughed.
"It's not funny," Hermione said.
"Yes it is," Harry replied.
"It's a nice place," Gia said, wrapping her arms around Harry from behind, pushing her breasts into him, and putting her chin on his shoulder, "We're going to have a little talk."
"You do that," Ron said, "He needs… the talk."
Harry and Gia took off into the corridors.
"You had to say that," Hermione said.
"Well, he does," Ron said, "They've got the hots but Harry's not willing to commit."
Hermione clearly had a bucket list as she brought Ron onto the elevator, they went up to the third floor. She led Ron into the Salle des États room, coming to a stop in front of the famous painting, the Mona Lisa.
"It's so dull," Ron said, "They don't even move."
"Muggle paintings," Hermione said, "Of course they don't move."
"They ought to move," Ron said.
Ron moved slowly with Hermione. Harry, meanwhile, kept pace with Gia, who was a bit less interested in the artwork and more into her company.
"Gotta catch me!" Gia exclaimed, breaking into a run.
Harry ran, kept his pace. Gia ran through the exhibits, up the stairs. Harry chased, until they came into a section of decorative arts, furniture. Harry tackled her, they fell onto the antique sofa, putting her on her back, him on top. Their crotches came together as he leaned in, and kissed.
"Whatchya waiting for?" Gia said, "I'm not staying put."
Harry eased up, let her slip, gave her a moment, before following. They ran among the paintings on the second floor, ran along the first past Ron and Hermione. Harry, however, kept running.
"Blimey!" Ron muttered.
They ran back down the steps, coming to the Greek statues, where Gia came to a fast halt. Harry wrapped himself around her back, his hands held her breasts.
"Proper athletes," Gia said.
Harry studied the naked statues.
"Guess so," Harry said.
"Doesn't that give you ideas?" Gia said, turning around to face Harry.
"Yeah," Harry said.
"Let yourself go," Gia said, "I want you to indulge yourself with me, but you're a damn monk!"
"We've done more," Harry said.
"Then prove it," Gia said, "I need a sign from you that there is more than a bit of fun and games, that you're more serious."
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," Harry said.
"I'm willing to take that chance," Gia said, "Are you?"
"I know the consequences," Harry said, he hugged her tight, pushed his head against her large breasts.
"Jump," Gia said as she held onto his stiffy, "And avoid the consequences."
"It's tough," Harry replied.
"You're clearly interested," Gia said, "How far can you go? Care to find out?"
"I do love you," Harry said.
"I need proof, Mr. Hairy Harry," Gia said, "Catch."
Gia twisted out of Harry's grip and ran, up the stairs; Harry followed. They pushed between the crowds, raced through the rooms, passed Ron and Hermione, again, and kept running. Gia knew how ridiculous this was, making Harry chase her, as they kept making laps of the museum; they returned to the floor with the naked Greek statues, where Harry sprinted, held her tight. Harry kissed her.
"How much longer am I going to have to wait?" Gia asked.
They walked along, to the Egyptian artifacts section.
"It will come," Harry promised, "Here."
Harry pulled Gia down to the floor; people yielded, as he straddled her. He brought his tongue into her mouth as they kissed. He made no secret of his stiffy, letting it be seen tapping against her.
"Dull," Ron said, standing nearby and pretending to be more interested in the tombs, "I've seen better in Egypt. These have been stripped."
"You tell the curator," Harry said, "I think it's about time for dinner, meet you back at our room, Gia and I need a little privacy."
"Oh, now you need it, alright," Ron said, pretending he hadn't seen their public display, "See you later."
Ron eventually found Hermione, they left, had dinner, before returning to their hotel room near the Eiffel Tower. Harry was standing there, watching out of the window, every strand of his hair was now bright yellow.
"Again?" Hermione asked.
"Turn around," Gia said to Harry.
Harry turned, showed that Gia did not miss a strand, including his head, his armpits, his arm hairs, his pubic hairs, and even the ones on his legs.
"Quit that Harry," Ron said, "Blue was bad enough."
"Gryffindor colors," Hermione suggested.
"She might turn you red," Harry said.
"I'm already red!" Ron stammered.
"No, more of a purple," Gia said.
"Thanks!" Ron snapped.
Ron left the loo shortly after midnight when Gia headed toward the door of the hotel room; she twisted the knob and left. Harry and Hermione were quiet, sleeping in in the bed, as Ron followed Gia out.
"You're not even dressed," Gia said.
"So?" Ron said, "Neither are you."
"Doesn't matter," Gia said.
"Yes it does," Ron said as they left the hotel.
"I just needed to clear my head, to think," Gia said.
"Fine, I'll keep quiet," Ron said.
"Doubt you could manage that," Gia said.
"Don't leave my sight," Ron stated.
"You guys are always doing that!" Gia snapped.
"Here, let's sit," Ron said, pointing to a small lawn.
They sat, side by side, on the grass.
"Harry doesn't want any of us being by ourselves, especially you," Ron said, "He loves you, he simply loves you, and he cherishes you. He's worried, of course, that something'll happen to you because you're his girlfriend. To him, that final act to seal the deal, it'll seal your fate too, and he doesn't want that to happen."
"Has he told you what I've told him, that I need commitment?" Gia said, "I'm trusting myself to him and he needs to understand that."
"It'll happen," Ron said, "Maybe that was his point in the trip? Still, you're already known as his girlfriend, so things will change."
"You keep mentioning that," Gia said, "He's well known—"
Ron snorted.
"I think there's something you need to see," Ron said, "He won't like it, of course."
"What?" Gia asked.
"I'm needling him too," Ron said, "You deserve him, and—it's a bit selfish."
"You're being selfish?" Gia asked.
"We're friends and all, but if he seals the deal with you, means I'm definitely clear with Hermione," Ron said, "Can't have us both claiming her."
"Aw," Gia said, "That explains you."
"Not really, he's still my friend, I want him to be happy with you," Ron said
They left the Arc De Triomphe, rode the metro, and walked away from the Notre Dame Cathedral. They passed one man using a wall as a loo, and were laughing. A block later, a few from Notre Dame, they came to a faded black door along with a small faded black wall and covered dirty windows.
"Must be it," Ron said.
"Must be what?" Harry asked.
A faded black sign with a pointed hat momentarily shined to life as they came to it, it read, Chapeau Raccordé.
"Harry, you've got to see this," Hermione said, "It's their equivalent to the Leaky Cauldron. Fancy a look?"
Hermione pushed the door open; they entered an old looking pub with a big fireplace to one end. People in robes and cloaks glared at these strangers, the old man behind the bar pointed a wand at them.
"Vous n'étes pas voulu, ne sortez pas!"
"Huh?" Ron said.
"Muggles are not welcome," Hermione whispered.
"Muggles are not welcome," the barkeeper said, repeating Hermione's translation, still holding his wand.
"I'm a Wizard," Harry said, "We stumbled across this place and fancied a look."
Harry pulled out his wand, levitated a nearby saucer.
"Sorry," the barkeeper said, putting his wand away, "You look like Muggles, your hair and all."
"Trying to blend in," Hermione said, "With those outside."
A lady who was sitting at the bar asked, "Where are you from?"
"England," Harry said.
"There's more to this," Hermione whispered, pointing.
Hermione opened the back door, the entered a small, fenced in, courtyard, too small to comfortably fit the four of them. Hermione tapped her wand on the brick wall, and the walls pulled apart to show the rows of shops.
"Smaller than Diagon," Ron said.
"Same idea," Harry said, "Look!" He pointed at Quality Quidditch Supplies, Paris.
Harry and Ron went into Quality Quidditch Supplies. Meanwhile, Gia and Hermione continued.
"Need any gift ideas?" Hermione asked.
Gia shook her head before they stopped in front of another shop, Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club Outlet Direct.
"Didn't realize—" Gia said as she and Hermione entered.
"He knows you love him," Hermione said, "Though you can always read up."
They were in front of a display of literature. Gia picked up a glossy Harry Potter Quarterly, opened it, revealing hundreds of pictures of her and Harry.
"Where'd they get these?" Gia said, putting it back aside.
"A determined witch gets her way, unfortunately," Hermione said.
"I'd like to understand him," Gia said, touching the Understanding Harry Potter leather bound book by Doris Crockford in English and French, "How does he cope?" Next to the leather book was Speculation on Harry Potter's Victory.
"Dunno really," Hermione said, "Though you could get a scar too—"
Gia snorted.
"Really." Hermione pointed at the racks of various articles for a person to look like Harry Potter, from the raven black wigs in assorted sizes to glasses to scar tattoos to Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion and beyond. "Let's show him."
"I don't think that'd be a good idea," Ron said, entering.
"This place?" Harry said, following Ron in, "Quality was better!"
"Yes, but there's a couple points of beauty here," Ron said, stepping to stand behind Hermione.
"I figured she might be interested in some reading," Hermione said, "Think the bookstore has better."
Hermione and Gia made for the exit. Harry and Ron were nearly there when the witch behind the counter spoke, an adult witch with a youthful face and flowery robes.
"You must be new," a witch coming out from behind the counter said, "Why not try a wig to get your hair just right."
Ron grabbed a raven black and wild haired wig from the stacks in the organized bins sorted by head size.
"No," Harry said, "My hair looks right."
"You've obviously got the scar tattoo and the glasses," the witch said, "if you've went this far, you should go all the way to look like Harry Potter, which means black hair."
"No," Ron said, "I think that means yellow hair right now."
"Need a scar?" the witch asked, pointing to the box of rub–on tattoos next to boxes of round glasses and wigs.
"Nope," Ron said, "We'll be leaving."
Ron took a step, bumped into a rack of black Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion, the rack came crashing down.
"So," the witch asked Ron, "you think you know Harry Potter better? I can tell you that I've studied him since, well, the incident with You–Know–Who."
"You mean," Harry said, "Voldemort."
The witch flinched and said, "You said his name!"
"Of course he did," Ron said, "Harry always does."
Harry said, "Ron—"
"My, my," the witch said, "We have two fans acting the roles, including Potter's sidekick friend Weasley. However, you don't quite seem to get it. Are you members of UHP?"
She grabbed a couple of membership forms and packets from the right edge of the counter.
"Members?" Harry said, "Why would I be a member of my own fan club?"
"Great impersonation," the witch said, "Can I interest you in a statue? Briefs maybe? Or his school Quidditch robes?" She pointed to the various object to include a marble statue of what somebody thought a nude Harry would look like. Other statues were there, such as smaller ones of Harry on a Firebolt during Quidditch.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Ron dragged him out of the shop.
"That was getting to me," Harry said.
"I know," Ron said, ushering Harry toward the bookshop. They entered.
They found Hermione and Gia near the Muggle Relations section. Harry sneaked up on Gia from behind, pushed his crotch against her buttocks.
"Planning to use that Mister?" Gia asked.
"Just trying it on for size," Harry said.
"Go back outside and shout out your name," Hermione said, "You'd get plenty of assistance and some pictures to capture the moment, maybe even that witch would give you a prop or two."
"I don't need help!" Harry said.
"You're fooling me," Gia said.
"It'll happen," Harry said.
"When?" Gia asked.
"It will, I promise!" Harry said, "Enough of that, I'm done here."
"You get to carry anything you buy," Ron said to Hermione.
"I was hoping for a gift, Ron," Hermione said.
"Yeah, but not today," Ron said.
"It's getting hot here," Harry said, "Gia, lets go."
Harry made the first steps to leave the bookshop, Gia followed. Ron and Hermione carried up the rear.
"There you are," said the witch from the previous shop, "Take this." She offered a Guide to Being Harry Potter. "It'll help you smarten up your act."
"NO!" Harry chucked the book to the ground before they returned to the pub. Quickly, they left for muggle Paris.
"It's fucking annoying," Harry said loudly, "Soo many people on this planet think they know me better than I do!"
"Most are wrong," Ron said, "Take that statue, it's obvious the sculptor never really saw you. The chest was a pathetic attempt and the todger—nothing on you."
"Which one was better?" Gia asked as they crossed an intersection.
"Marble is soo cold," Ron said, "You'd prefer the real ones."
"You never answered her question," Harry asked, "Your opinion?"
"Mate," Ron said, "Which do you think is better?"
"The statue," Hermione said, a stern look was on her face.
That earned Hermione a thump on the arm from Harry.
"You're the one who thought to show me that!" Harry snapped.
"Totally overdone," Gia said, "To get the true Harry, why bother with the clothes?"
They turned right.
Harry was the first into shower when they came back to their hotel room.
"It's clear he wants to, but he's not," Gia said.
"There are spells, potions that could help him along," Hermione said.
"No, go to dinner, we'll catch up," Ron said.
Hermione and Gia left the room; Ron went into the bathroom.
"I was going to ask Gia to suck on my dick," Harry said from the shower stall, "Wasn't expecting you to volunteer."
"She wants to do more than suck it," Ron said, "She wants these—" Ron reached into the shower, grabbed Harry's bollocks, "—use them before she loses interest."
"You're interested," Harry snapped.
"No!" Ron said, retracting his hand, "As your friend, I don't want them going blue on you, alright?"
"I bumped our reservation out another night, so I've got a plan!" Harry said, "Trust me and butt out."
"Fine," Ron said, "I was thinking ropes, you know, let Gia have her way with you."
"Glad you've thought this through!" Harry snapped.
"Just watching your back," Ron said, "I'll leave you to play with yourself."
"I suggest taking your broom out of your arse!" Harry retorted.
Ron left the bathroom.
Gia laid in the bathtub Tuesday morning, the ninth of July. Harry's knees were on the edges of the tub, straddling her; his hands were working the apple shampoo into her hair. Her hands on his thighs, creeping inward. Hermione was sitting on the toilet, while Ron was leaning back against the sink.
"You changed our departure date?" Hermione said, "You could've said—"
"It's only the ninth," Harry said, "How far is it to Romania? We can afford to go slower. More importantly, because it's the ninth, that means it's Gia's birthday. Happy Birthday."
"Always good to respect the one holding your balls," Ron said, in a matter–of–fact tone.
"Just talk to us Harry," Hermione said, "That's enough reason to not spend the day on the train."
"Sorry, didn't think of that," Harry said.
"We can tell how you're thinking," Hermione said as Harry's stiffy formed as he was massaging, washing, Gia's tits.
"While you figure out what to do with that," Ron said, "We'll be getting breakfast. Hermione."
"I'll be a moment," Hermione said.
Ron left the bathroom.
Crowds had already formed, vendors were already there hawking souvenirs, as the teenagers approached the Eiffel Tower.
"I guess I can do this again," Hermione said, "It's nice to look around with a view."
"My Firebolt can do that," Ron said.
"And be seen!" Hermione protested.
"I've never gone up before," Gia said.
Slowly, the line snaked underneath the base, until they paid for their tickets, and got onto the elevator on one of the legs to the tower. Ron moved his head, watched the glass doors slide shut, watched the machinery move the elevator up the leg of the tower at a sideway slant.
"Amazing," Ron said.
"Only nine tons of steel," the operator said.
"Nine tons?" Gia asked.
"Yes," the operator said as the elevator pulled up to the second level.
They got out on the second level. They fought the crowd and got into line for the center elevators to the top.
Hermione coughed at the smoke from the nearby smokers when they walked into the elevator. In a couple of moments, they were at the top.
"Cool!" Ron said, as they climbed up to the top deck. Harry noted the face of Ron, the joy on his face.
"Look at the pollution," Hermione said, drearily, "Hard to see anything."
"It's still nice," Gia said.
They spent an hour strolling around the platform, including enjoying themselves with the use of one of the pay telescopes. Eventually Harry came to a halt, his eyes aimed to the ceiling of the top deck, to trapdoor and its ladder.
"Nice ladder," Harry said loudly, "Can we go up?"
"No," a nearby security guard said, "You need safety equipment up there so that's why the trapdoor has an alarm and is well locked. Nobody can go up there."
After a bit more time, they returned to the central elevators, went down to the second level before making their way to the slanted elevators in the corner, descending to the bottom of the tower.
It was the middle of the afternoon when they arrived at the theater. Hermione bought the tickets from the office; and they walked up the black steps into the quaint theater.
"Do you know what the show is?" Hermione asked as they crossed the lobby.
"No," Harry said, "That waitress recommended it, seemed a good idea to take it given that we don't understand French."
They entered the house through the center double doors; it was small, a few seats deep crammed as close to the stage as possible.
"Which means," Gia said, "We're probably in for a surprise."
They went down the right aisle, moved into the center seats of the front row. Harry leaned his seat backward, legs were spread. Gia made no effort to hide Harry's stiffy from public view and leaned into Harry, their tongues tap danced as the curtain began to rise.
A play, the scantily clad actors and actresses were on the stage. Girls paraded only in thongs, singing in French, and gave the audience a good understanding of what the thongs were trying to hide.
"It's a sex show disguised as a romantic drama!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Enjoy it," Gia said, her eyes were more on Harry than the show.
Ron picked up on her and Harry's vibes, he leaned over, began to give Hermione an oral examination.
"They're hotter than the play," a teenage boy in the row behind whispered to a girl next to him, "They have a nice idea, want to try?"
The girl shoved him away, got up, and stormed out of the theater.
An older male, seated next to the boy, whispered, "Don't push so hard, they're easy to lose."
"Notice you're having luck Uncle," the boy said.
"You know I'm gay," said the Uncle.
"Yeah, cause you couldn't catch a girl," the boy teased.
"Let's enjoy the show," the Uncle said, "shall we?" The boy went quiet.
Distracted as they were, Harry and Ron still glanced up at the stage.
"Harry," Ron said, "Catch that? Butler just poisoned that drink."
"Yeah," Harry said, "Wonder who'll drink it."
The teenage boy behind them said, "Will you keep quiet?"
Harry and Ron kept fairly quiet, though the kissing enhanced the show for those around, before it came to an end.
"It's over?" Ron said, "Encore."
They left the theater. The teenage boy, who was behind them, caught up with the Uncle in tow.
"You guys must really like your chicks," said the boy.
"Yes," Ron asked, "Where are you from?"
"California," the boy said, "I'm Ben, this is my Uncle Trevor."
"I'm Harry," Harry said, "this is Ron," — pointing — "Hermione, and Gia."
"We're from England," said Ron.
Ben's girl from the theater came up to Ben. "This is Sara," Ben asked, "Here with your parents?"
"No," Hermione said, "Just us."
"Must be fun," Trevor said, "Here's a good restaurant right ahead. Join us for dinner?"
Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Sure," said Harry.
They all entered the restaurant.
It was late into the evening when they left the restaurant after dinner.
"I'll meet you back at the hotel," Harry said.
"What's going on?" Gia asked.
"Nothing, just meet you there," Harry said, "In the room, alright?"
"You sure?" Ron said.
"Never been more sure in my life," Harry said, "In just a few, I'll be along momentarily."
Harry stayed back, waited for them to get out of view.
"What's he up to?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno," Ron said.
"I trust him," Gia said, fiddling with the ring on her finger, the ring Harry had given her months earlier.
They returned to their hotel room, Harry was already there, naked with Firebolt in hand, and grin on his face; the French doors to the balcony were already open.
"Harry?" Ron asked.
"In three…two…one…" Harry said.
Darkness came over them, the lights in the room went out. Through the open window, they could see that every light outside was flickering out.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked.
"Did you take your broom out Ron, like I warned you?" Harry asked.
"It's under the bed," Ron said, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Get it," Harry said, "No power, no lights, no alarms, lets see Paris at night, from the air. Gia, hold on."
Harry mounted his Firebolt; Gia stripped before she got on behind him, held on.
"Hermione, Ron, come," Harry said.
"Flying?" Hermione sputtered.
"Come on," Ron said, "Lights aren't going to stay out forever."
"We've got an hour, tops," Harry said, "Hurry."
"This is absolutely immature and ridiculous," Hermione said, "Flying starkers in Paris, what will you say when we're caught?"
"With SEP[1]?" Ron said, "Nobody'll care, come on!"
Hermione shook a bit as she mounted Ron's Firebolt, both she and Ron were naked. She grabbed tightly around the waist; they joined Harry at the threshold of the opening. A quick cast of the SEP, and they flew out. Harry took the lead, across the Seine, and up the Eiffel Tower, landing on the warm roof above the top observation deck of an seemingly empty tower. Harry sat, cross–legged, setting the Firebolt to the side.
"What—" Hermione started, before Harry opened a small box nearby.
Instantly, a candle on the small cupcake lit, he handed it to Gia.
"Happy sixteenth birthday," Harry said to Gia, "May we have many more."
"Thank you," Gia said, eating it, "Presents?"
"One," Harry said, "Is there a best time? Not sure, but what better place than in Paris, here, on your birthday?"
"Got me there," Gia said, smiling.
"Protection?" Hermione asked.
"Magic condoms, from Harry's book," Ron asked.
"One he's never let me read?" Hermione asked.
"Perfect protection," Harry said, "Hurry up before the lights come back on."
Harry had Gia on her back on the small and warm roof, so small that Hermione was next to her.
"Come on, he wants us to do it at the same time," Ron said, before giving Hermione a kiss.
"Next time, a proper seduction," Hermione said to Ron.
While Harry kissed and licked Gia's breasts, Ron worked Hermione's head; both boys were stiff. Both glowed for a moment as they cast their condoms; Ron's pulsated in red, while Harry's pulsated in green. In near unison, both pushed into their girls, flexed their hips, until the girls both smiled. Ron let himself collapse onto Hermione after he finished.
"Yes! yes!" Gia exclaimed as Harry was still going into her.
A moment later, Harry laid onto Gia. "Guess we did it."
"Guess we did?" snapped Hermione.
"We did," Ron said as he sat up.
"Really," said Gia.
"Interesting glow," said Harry.
"Okay, so it's a cute charm," Hermione said.
They spent a few minutes staring and blinking, until they began to hear noises from below. Footsteps, boots stepping underneath the trapdoor, ascending, before the lock was being messed with.
"Shit!" Harry exclaimed, "Hurry!"
Harry grabbed his Firebolt, so did Ron. Gia got on, as did Hermione onto Ron's. All cast the SEP and flew off the roof. All four plummeted.
Both Harry and Ron felt their brooms to be sluggish, not wanting to respond, but did manage to level off at two hundred feet. They went as fast as they could for the hotel balcony, their altitude dropping as they flew. Harry overtook, got in first. Ron made it to the balcony when he and Hermione went in to free fall as Ron's magic failed, they landed on the bed.
"That was close," Hermione said, "and dangerous."
"And fun," Gia said, holding Harry's shoulder, "Never dreamed it would be first on top of the Eiffel Tower."
The lights came back on.
"Well," Harry said, "Guess they figured out the squirrels."
Hermione shut the curtains.
"Sorry," Gia said, "You two need to clean up before you get into bed."
All four examined the two todgers hanging there with evidence on them. Both Ron and Harry wiped them off before returning to climb into the bed.
"So," Gia asked, "Why the diminishing power?"
"First, Happy Birthday, again," Harry said, "Losing magic for a while is the price of that spell, One I have no problems with."
"That's the fine print?!" Hermione stammered.
"It worked," Ron said, "See you in the morning."
Ron was the first to fall asleep.
"I can't believe you'd risk—" Hermione said to Harry, "Next time, use a muggle condom, don't risk my neck with that stunt—"
"It wasn't a stunt," Harry said, "Good night."
The next morning, Hermione held the morning's paper as they were riding the train away from Paris, translating for all.
"Let's see," Hermione said, "Power out disables alarms … Batteries … Motion detectors … recorded a presence … Why unknown … Guard saw bodies falling … None recovered … Guard … within seconds of nabbing … Investigation is proceeding. I wonder what the weather's like in Switzerland." She thumbed the paper and turned pages. Ron snickered.
"I guess we were noticed—" Harry started.
"Next time read the bloody book!" Hermione snapped.
"Worth it," Harry said, grin on his face.
[1]: SEP, or Somebody Else's Problem, is a spell that tricks the observer into not bothering to remember what they were seeing. This idea is adapted from Douglas Adam's work, Life, The Universe, and Everything