On the Hogwarts Express, Romilda Vane had the worst experience of her entire life. She and her friends invited Harry Potter (the uber sexy unbelievably handsome and unendingly gallant hero) to sit with them instead of Loony Lovegood and Last-Place-Longbottom.

No, Romilda reminded herself! Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom. Because when her friends and her asked him, and she was the only one brave enough to tell him he could sit with them instead of sitting with losers, he shut her down as coldly as if she was Draco Malfoy.

She couldn't understand it at first, and it hurt more than a little bit, to tell the truth. But Romilda's love was not so easily defeated. She stepped back and took an objective look at the situation, to figure out where it all went wrong for her.

It didn't take very long. She watched after they reached Hogwarts, and Harry still talked with Neville and Luna of his own free will. They were friends. Because she and her friends couldn't recognize that, they'd gone and turned him against them, spouting some nonsense that probably ruined their chances with him forever.

It was almost enough to make Romilda turn to a love potion. But Romilda had watched Harry carefully. He was kind (just like she always knew he was) so long as you didn't insult his precious people. It made Romilda think… What did she have to lose? She was supposed to be a Gryffindor. If Harry could face down Voldemort, then she could at least face down him!

Romilda stood up. She had been sitting beside the fire in one of the recliners that filled the Gryffindor common room. Across the room, Harry had just come down the stairs from the Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory. Romilda walked up to him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Hello!" Romilda said.

Harry looked at her, stopping as she stepped in front of him. "Oh, it's you."

Romilda tried not to feel hurt at the apathy in his voice. That was why she was here, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry!" she said.

"For what?" Harry asked.

"For what I said on the train," Romilda said. "My friends and I insulted your friends. We thought we were being nice, but all we did was annoy you."

Harry paused. He looked at her closely, and to Romilda, it felt as if he was seeing her for real for the very first time. She tried not to shiver with pleasure. Something like that would surely freak him out again.

"And where are you friends?" Harry asked.

"Not here?" Romilda said, a bit confused. "This was just something I decided in the moment. It's really not that big of a deal."

She was getting nervous now. Harry smiled, and it only got worse for her.

"Well thank you, Romilda," Harry said. "You're forgiven."

Romilda gasped. "Just like that?"

"It wasn't that big of a deal in the first place," Harry said. "And you're the only who actually apologized, so it would honestly be rude of me not to accept it. Did you need anything else?"

"Yes!" Romilda said. "Or what I mean is that… Well it's almost the weekend! And not just the weekend, but a weekend where we can go to Hogsmeade…"

She trailed off. It seemed Gryffindor courage was good enough to help you ask important questions… but it didn't mean you wouldn't become a tongue-tied fool when you actually tried to use your words.

"You can get there," Harry encouraged her with a chuckle.

"I was just asking… If you would go with me?" Romilda asked.

"Like a date?" Harry said.

"Yes?" Romilda squeaked.

She looked down, squeezing her legs together. It felt like her chest was tearing in half from all the nervousness she was feeling. She wished he would just turn her down already, exactly like he did last time, so that she could run across the common room and sink back into her chair and relax in its folds, letting her beating heart catch its breath.

"Sure," Harry said.

Romilda's head jolted up. "Pardon?"

"I'm saying yes," Harry said. "I'll go to Hogsmeade with you."

"Really?" Romilda asked. "I mean, with me? You'll really go with ME?"

"Did you not want to?" Harry asked.

"No!" Romilda said. "I just meant— it's— I'll see you then!"

She ran, ducking past him and sprinting up the stairs to her dorm. The entire way, she was smiling brightly.

LINE BREAK

Romilda Vane dressed herself as well as possible the morning of the date. It started from the very beginning: before she had put on her robes at all, she spent a long time staring at what she'd shoved in the very bottom of her trunk, a few thin strips of fabric in very elaborate shapes. She pulled them on, then checked out her reflection in a mirror. The thong did next to nothing to block her crotch, while it did even less around back. Her breasts weren't all that big, but they had nice shape and were prone to bouncing wildly. The lingerie bra she strapped on was partially see through, and allowed her stiff nipples to create bumps in the fabric.

She pulled one her robes over these, telling herself they were just in case. Harry was probably just being nice, nothing more.

They met each other just outside the Great Hall. Romilda was too scared to hold his hand, so they walked side by side. And as they did, they talked.

Harry asked questions about her. It was easier for Romilda to talk about herself than it was for Harry to share things from his own life, considering how much wasn't supposed to be common knowledge.

Romilda did learn a few things. She found out he was raised with Muggles, and that he was apparently an excellent cook. As if he couldn't be any more perfect.

She hadn't bothered to ask what the plan was for the day, let alone come up with one. Just being with Harry was enough. But her curiosity did begin to rise as they approached Hogsmeade.

Harry didn't seem like a Madam Puddifoot's tea shop kind of guy, and indeed that wasn't where he took her. Instead, they branched off to a place that made Romilda want to rub her eyes.

As if it was the most natural thing, Harry took her into Zonko's Joke Shop. Romilda was so surprised and confused that she kept looking around, expecting some kind of trick.

There were plenty of tricks, they were just all the innocent kind. Harry tossed a dungbomb near her, making Romilda shriek, and when she barely kept it from going off inside the store, she had to get revenge by throwing it back. Harry caught it easily, being a Seeker and all, but he had already achieved what he was after.

Romilda relaxed. It was impossible to act tongue-tied and lovestruck inside a prank store. It just didn't match with the atmosphere. By the time they walked out with a haul of fresh goods—everything from a Nose-Biting Teacup, to a Frog Spawn Soap, to an operational Sneakoscope—Romilda was laughing and joking like she was around an old friend.

"You know, most of these items are banned by Filch," Harry said.

"Oh no! Can we not take them back?" Romilda said.

"Unfortunately not," Harry said gravely. "Which means we'll just have to use them all here."

That really didn't sound so bad to Romilda.

They roamed the streets of Hogsmeade. The Frog Spawn Soap was used to send a stampede of Amphibians hopping all over Draco Malfoy while he attempted to snog Pansy Parkinson. The prissy Slytherins screamed and eventually fled, frightened of getting any slime on their robes or skin.

The boomerang was left out, where Roger Davies found it and attempted to show off to his date about his "Strong throwing arm." It was strong. The boomerang flew out almost a block, then spun back and clocked him in the head, multiple times, like it was enchanted to. Romilda had howled at that, laughing so much that Harry had to cover her mouth to keep them from being discovered.

It got Romilda to be quiet, but it came at a cost. Romilda stared down at the large, calloused, firm hand touching her face, and suddenly she was nervous all over again. She thought again about her deliberation that morning, and what she chose to strap on underneath these robes…

"Whew! He's gone," Harry said, pulling his hand back. "That was a close one, right Romilda? Romilda?"

As he repeated her name, she jumped. "Yes?" she said.

Harry was smiling kindly at her.

"You know, I did have something else planned for the day," he said. "But only if you're interested."

Romilda would do anything, if he was the one who asked her. But saying that seemed like coming on a bit too strong. Just as she went to answer, something began shrieking in Harry's pocket.

He cursed and yanked out the Sneakoscope they bought. The item was supposed to be a warning device against dark magic.

"You weren't planning to hurt me, were you?" Romilda asked. The question felt ridiculous, but she was suddenly a bit scared again. Had this all been a set up? Was that why he agreed to go with her?

But Harry just laughed. "No, no!" he said, tossing up the Sneakoscope and banishing it with his wand, sending the shrieking thing far out of sight. "Sneakoscopes don't actually track magic, just intentions! And they can get a bit confused, see. Anything that might be considered untrustworthy will set them off. They can't really distinguish between desires that would cause actual harm, and ones that are just a bit naughty."

Romilda's mouth went dry. "When you say naughty, surely you don't mean…"

"Come on," Harry grinned. "Let's go one last place."

Romilda crossed her fingers inside her sleeve, hoping he'd lead her to the Three Broomsticks. Instead, they stopped outside of a dirty bar-looking building with cloudy windows you could hardly see through.

"Here?" Romilda asked.

"I promise it's not so bad once you get used to it," Harry said. "I have good memories here."

He led them inside. Romilda spotted three different patrons that looked untrustworthy in different ways. There were three patrons total, excluding them.

Harry exchanged a nod with the old man behind the bar. Then he led them back, but a flight of stairs.

"Aberforth who runs this place is trustworthy," Harry said. "He and I get along well, so he gives me some benefits when I ask for them. He even let me spruce up one of the rooms."

The hallway floor had stains in the wood. One of the doors down the hall looked like it had been bludgeoned in. Romilda was holding Harry's hand now, because in this setting, not doing so actually seemed more frightening.

Then Harry had opened a door, led them inside, and they were in a place that looked completely different.

This room was spotless. It had a bed and a large dresser and one small table, and that was it. But the entire place had been tidied up perfectly, to the point that it didn't even look like the same building. It had its own bathroom, with a shower. Romilda instantly felt much more at home.

"I told you I was good at cleaning," Harry said. "What do you think of it? I prepared a room like this just in case last year."

"In case of what?" Romilda asked.

"Oh, you know," Harry said. "Unless a sexy underclassmen ever asked me on a date."

It sank rapidly. Oh Merlin, Romilda thought. Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin! She was here, alone, with Harry Potter, at the end of a date. AND he just called her sexy?

Harry touched her cheek, tilting her face toward his own.

"There are lots of ways this can go," he said. "I can take you back to the castle right now. We can kiss, and then I take you back. Or we can kiss on that bed for as long as you want. Or, we can go even further."

Romilda's response was to jump on him, kissing him and wrapping her limbs around his back.

If she expected the suddenness to catch Harry off guard, she was surprised, because he caught her easily, returning her kiss.

His tongue moved against hers in a way that was somehow gentle and strongly masculine at the same time. Romilda felt him in her mouth, causing tremors throughout her whole body as she relished the thought. His mouth felt so much better than the pillows she practiced on, even the ones with his face taped over them.

Harry carried her to the bed. He laid her down on it, placing his own body on top of hers. Romilda could feel his weight pressing down on her. His hand squeezed her thigh through her robes. At that moment, Romilda hated clothes for existing.

Suddenly, Harry's touch was robbed from her. He rose up on her knees, leaving her gasping and already missing the feeling of him. But she got something better just as quickly. Harry pulled off his robe, shrugging it back, and removed his shirt straight after.

Romilda felt so turned on she thought she might burst like a balloon as she stared at his rippling muscles. Then his hands started on HER clothes, and her excitement rocketed even higher.

She could feel his fingers undoing each button. And the knowledge about what lay underneath was kept just to her, a secret soon to be exposed. The idea of him laying eyes on the underwear she picked for him was mortifying in the best possible way.

Harry pulled off her clothes piece by piece, until she was laying on the bed with nothing but lingerie covering her petite body.

He paused. "Somebody prepared."

Romilda wrapped her legs around him, pulling his body down on top of hers. "Get it off me," she invited.

Harry smiled. He kissed her again, and at the same time his hands reached down, unbuttoning his pants. As soon as Romilda heard the button pop, she managed to hook her toes in his back pocket, yanking his pants down.

She felt something brushing her inner thighs as it was freed. Something large, hot, and hard. Harry broke the kiss to ask a single question.

"How attached are you to this underwear?" he asked.

"Do whatever you want!" Romilda moaned.

Smiling, Harry snapped the lingerie with his hands, not even needing a spell to do it.

Suddenly that thing between Romilda's legs was brushing against her pussy, not just her thighs. It pushed forward, opening her up. When Harry found her more than wet enough (just being in this situation with him was as good as foreplay to Romilda) he moved faster.

His dick opened Romilda up. It slid into her and just kept coming. Romilda gasped.

"You're even bigger than my 100% Accurate Harry Potter Dildo!" she screamed.

Harry actually stopped. "You're WHAT?"

"You can order them through Witch Weekly," Romilda said. "The say they're exactly like the real thing, and their pretty big, but you're even larger!"

Rather than think about that, Harry chose to lay into the sexy girl beneath him.

He was up on his knees, while Romilda lay beneath him. As his hips began smashing against her,s rocking her body and the bed they were on, her head was jammed up against the pillows. Her breasts swung and flailed wildly, while her face had an expression of pure pleasure on it.

"Am I dreaming?" she moaned. "No, it can't be. This is ten times better than even my best wet dreams!"

"You had wet dreams about me?" Harry asked.

"Twice a week," Romilda said with a groan. "The trick is to read smut about you right before falling asleep."

"Smut about me?" Harry asked. "Let me guess, Witch Weekly again?"

"Or course!" Romilda's eyes fluttered. "Oh, Harry, forget about that and fuck me!"

He already was. His body beat against hers, while his cock opened her pussy in ways she hadn't known was possible. He was so big. You would think something this size would hurt, but Harry always managed to be just gentle enough to keep her from being uncomfortable. He was just caring that way, Romilda decided.

She tucked her legs in, squeezing his lower back with them. As they slid higher, they pushed Harry's upper body down, until he leaned forward and put his chest above hers. Romilda was moaning too hard to speak any more now. Harry casually groped her breasts, then planted his hands down on the bed as if he was doing a push up. He spread his knees out for balance, and changed the angle he was moving at. He rolled his weight down and forward, using his position on top of Romilda to sink deeper through her folds.

The bed was screaming underneath them. Speaking of screaming, that's what Romilda felt like doing. So she did. She raised her voice, wailing to express every last scrap of pleasure that she was feeling. She waited so long for this. She needed Harry to know exactly how good it felt for her.

Harry sped up. The squeaks from the bed grew sharper. His own breathing became shorter and sharper, turning to pants. Distantly, a deep part of Romilda's brain recognized that he was feeling good too. He was going to cum.

She grabbed his shoulders. Her legs squeezed for all they were worth. She kissed him again, and when their lips separated, she moaned, "INSIDE!" at the top of her lungs.

It was the only way this fantasy could get any better.

But Harry pulled his weight up. Romilda was dragged up off the bed with him, while he rose back onto his knees. He grabbed her bum. She loved feeling of his hands, but hated the way they dragged her up, off of his dick.

Harry grunted. Something warm hit her back, dripping down slowly.

"Let's get to know each other a bit better first," Harry said calmly.

"Awwww," Romilda moaned.

"Don't sound too disappointed," Harry said. He flipped Romilda over, so that she landed on her hands and knees. "That just means we have plenty of bonding left to get through.

As soon as his cock was shoved back inside of her, Romilda lost all her feelings of disappointment. She howled and moaned, and relished the feeling of being taken by Harry Potter, the boy she always dreamed of. And all she needed to do to get here, was to swallow her pride and ask directly.

By the time they were done in the afternoon, Romilda still hadn't gotten the creampie she was chasing for dessert, but that just mean they had to schedule a follow-up. That still felt like a win in the end. Especially considering, just to get her back to the castle, Harry had to go back and pick up his broom, then fly her there.

As she perched on the back of his broom, holding Harry's stomach while unable to feel her legs, she pressed her face into his back, humming to herself. If the trip on the Hogwarts Express had been the worst day of her life, this was the best one.

Which didn't mean she wouldn't try to beat it during the next Hogsmeade Weekend.

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