Harry stretched in bed, the Gryffindor dormitory still quiet around him. Ron was snoring a few beds over, and a soft morning light spilled through the curtains. But Harry's morning was already off to a… unique start.
Romilda was under the covers. Again.
It wasn't like this was a one-time thing anymore. Ever since that day in the broom closet, she'd made it her mission to be Harry's personal blowjob enthusiast. At first, it had caught him off guard. Waking up to the sensation of her mouth working him over, but now? Now it was practically routine. Four times a week, minimum. The girl was relentless.
Harry's hand found her hair, brushing it back to get a better grip as she bobbed her head. Her lips stretched around him, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked with that eager energy she always brought. The sight would've made any other guy jealous, and for once, Harry didn't feel bad about enjoying it.
His other hand rested behind his head as he let himself relax into the mattress. He couldn't help the smug grin that spread across his face. He wasn't the awkward, shy kid he'd been just a months ago. Romilda had changed him. He felt more confident, more… sure of himself.
A soft, wet slurp brought his focus back. Romilda glanced up at him, her eyes bright with mischief as she kept working. He groaned softly, tugging her hair lightly to make her go faster. She moaned in response, the vibrations sending shivers through him.
"Good girl,"
Romilda responded with another hum, her hands working in sync with her mouth. It didn't take long before Harry's hips bucked, his orgasm hitting him hard. Romilda took it all, swallowing with practiced ease before wiping her mouth and flashing him a cheeky grin.
"Morning, Potter," she said, crawling up to sit beside him on the bed. "You're welcome."
Harry smirked, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, thanks for the… wake-up call."
Romilda laughed, leaning over to kiss his cheek before hopping off the bed. "Same time tomorrow?" she asked, pulling on her robe.
Harry chuckled, watching her as she left the room, her hips swaying with that signature Romilda confidence. He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the canopy of his bed. A month ago, he would've felt guilty about all this, about how casual it had become but now? Now he just felt… good.
He climbed out of bed, grabbing his towel and heading for the showers. As the water poured over him, he let his thoughts drift. Romilda might've been wild, but she was predictable. But still. The idea of what Hermione had said about Romilda just having her fun. About him needing to figure out what he actually wanted. He pushed the thought away, telling himself he'd deal with it later. For now, he was just enjoying life.
Harry walked into the common room, feeling pretty damn good. His hair was a mess as usual, but he wasn't fussed. Life was good. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and spotted Hermione by the portrait hole, already buried in one of her massive textbooks.
She looked up as he approached. "You're in a mood."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry said, smirking.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, falling into step with him as they headed down the corridor. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Romilda, would it?"
Harry shrugged, his smirk staying put.
"Oh, Merlin." Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose but couldn't hide the hint of a smile. "She did, didn't she?"
"She's… dedicated," Harry said, keeping his voice low as they passed a group of second-years.
Hermione snorted. "Dedicated? Harry, she's practically made you her project."
"Not complaining," Harry said, grinning.
"Clearly," Hermione said, giving him a sideways look. "So, what is it now? She wakes you up every morning with…"
Harry cut her off with a cough, but the grin on his face made it obvious.
Hermione groaned. "Unbelievable. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived… now the Boy Who Gets His…"
"Alright, alright," Harry interrupted, laughing.
They turned a corner, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, normal people don't start their mornings like that."
"Sounds like a you problem," Harry shot back, still grinning.
Hermione swatted his arm with her book. "You're impossible."
"Just admit you're jealous," Harry said, nudging her.
"Jealous?" Hermione laughed. "Some of us have priorities, Harry. Like passing our exams and not letting our brains fall out of our heads."
Harry shrugged, still smiling. "You're missing out."
Hermione shook her head but didn't argue. "Just don't let it get to yours," she said after a moment. "You've got a good thing going, but don't lose your focus."
Harry's grin slipped a little, and he nodded. "Got it."
"Good," Hermione said, pushing the door open as they reached their classroom. "Now, let's see if you're still this smug when Flitwick starts grilling you on counter-charms."
"No promises," Harry said, following her in.
Harry set his wand down on the desk and let out a quiet sigh. He'd been at it for the better part of ten minutes, but the Silencing Charm wasn't cooperating. His quill sat there, taunting him, letting out high-pitched squeaks with every attempted spell. It wasn't the worst sound in the world, but after hearing it over and over again, it was driving him mad.
The rest of the class didn't seem to be having much luck, either. Around the room, students waved their wands with varying levels of success. Some managed to muffle their objects; others only made them louder. A few looked close to giving up entirely.
Harry leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him. He caught a glimpse of Fleur Delacour at the front of the room, watching over the lesson with a kind of casual authority that only she could pull off. Her heels clicked softly against the stone floor as she walked between desks, occasionally stopping to give a tip or two.
For once, Fleur didn't seem to be paying him any extra attention, which Harry was thankful for. The last thing he needed was a reminder of the… incident she'd walked in on with Romilda. He shook his head, trying to push the memory away.
Harry glanced around the room, letting his eyes wander while his brain took a break. That's when he spotted her.
Susan Bones was at the next table over, leaning slightly toward her partner as she explained something about wand movements. It was just another Hufflepuff student who looked about as lost as Harry felt with the charm.
"Just like this," Susan said, holding her wand and demonstrating the motion with care. She didn't seem annoyed or impatient, even though her partner had clearly struggled. "And make sure you're pronouncing it clearly it's Silencio, not Silensio."
Her voice was soft and Harry couldn't help but listen. Her partner gave the spell another shot, and this time, the quill in front of him went completely silent.
"That's it!" Susan said, smiling. "See? You've got it."
The Hufflepuff grinned back at her, clearly relieved. Susan sat back, letting her partner enjoy the moment, her hands resting on the edge of the desk.
Harry watched her in silence, his own failed quill charm forgotten. She seemed so… comfortable in her own skin. Relaxed. No games, no hidden agenda, just genuine kindness.
His eyes drifted lower for a second, noticing the way her robes hugged her chest. Susan wasn't flashy like Romilda, but there was something undeniably… full about her. Harry swallowed and looked back up quickly, but his look fell on her mouth. She had full, soft lips, the kind that naturally curled into a smile.
With Romilda, it was all winks and smirks and boldness. But Susan? She didn't need to try to be anything. She just was.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced up, catching him watching her. Harry froze, expecting her to smirk or roll her eyes, but instead, she smiled. Not a big, flirty grin, just an easy, genuine smile.
He quickly looked back at his quill, muttering a soft "Silencio," under his breath. The quill squeaked, but quieter this time. Progress.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Fleur approaching. His shoulders tensed instinctively.
"Struggling, Mr. Potter?"
Harry turned toward her, already bracing for whatever quip she might have.
"Uh, yeah," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. "A bit."
Fleur's smirk widened slightly. "Maybe," she said, glancing pointedly in Susan's direction, "if you spent more time on your own spell and less time… observing others, you'd have better results."
Harry felt his face heat up. "I wasn't.."
"Of course not," Fleur said smoothly, already moving on to another table.
Harry groaned under his breath and went back to his quill.
The sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor filled the Charms classroom as Flitwick dismissed them. Harry tucked his wand back into his robes and grabbed his bag, sneaking one last glance at Susan as she packed up her things. She was chatting with the Hufflepuff boy she'd been helping, her soft laugh reaching his ears as he walked toward the door.
Hermione was waiting for him outside, already balancing her books and flipping through her notes. "That didn't seem so bad," she said as they started down the corridor toward the Great Hall.
"Speak for yourself," Harry muttered. "My quill sounded like a banshee for most of the class."
Hermione gave him a knowing look. "Maybe if you spent less time staring and more time practicing, you'd have mastered it by now."
Harry stumbled slightly. "What are you talking about?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Susan. Don't think I didn't notice. You couldn't take your eyes off her."
Harry felt heat rise to his face. "I wasn't…"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted with a small sigh, "it's not a crime to look. Just don't make it weird."
Harry rolled his eyes but didn't argue. She wasn't wrong. There was something about Susan that made it hard not to notice her.
They were halfway to the Great Hall when a voice called out behind them.
"Harry! Wait up!"
Harry turned to see Lavender Brown jogging toward them, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. She was smiling in that way that immediately made him suspicious, too sweet, too eager.
"Uh, hey, Lavender," Harry said, stopping in his tracks.
Lavender barely acknowledged Hermione, her focus locked on Harry. "Can I borrow you for a second? Just a quick chat. Alone."
Hermione sighed, muttering something under her breath about lunch as she walked ahead without him.
Harry turned back to Lavender, crossing his arms. "What's up?"
Lavender took a step closer, lowering her voice. "Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. It's kind of… personal."
Harry blinked, confused but intrigued. "Alright. What is it?"
Lavender leaned in slightly, her voice dropping even lower. "Not here. Can we find somewhere a little more private?"
Harry hesitated, glancing down the corridor. Whatever Lavender wanted to say, it didn't seem like the kind of thing she wanted an audience for.
"Uh… okay," he said finally. "Lead the way."
Lavender grinned and motioned for him to follow.
Lavender led Harry down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder every few steps with a sly smile. Harry's suspicion grew with each passing moment, but curiosity won out, and he followed her until they stopped in front of a broom closet.
She opened the door, peeked inside, and motioned for him to step in.
"Come on,"
Harry hesitated, his mind racing. "Lavender, what's this about?"
"Just get in," she said with a laugh, pulling him inside before shutting the door behind them. The small space smelled faintly of wood polish and dust.
"So…" Harry began, leaning back against the wall, still unsure what was going on.
Lavender turned to face him, her cheeks slightly pink,.
She giggled, stepping closer. "I wasn't going to say anything, but… Romilda's been bragging."
"Bragging?" Harry echoed, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Oh, come on, Harry," she said, rolling her eyes playfully. "She's been telling anyone who'll listen how she's practically your personal… what did she call it? Oh, yeah, your personal cocksucker."
Harry's face turned bright red, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lavender cut him off with another laugh.
"And," she continued, "she also mentioned that you've got a pretty big… you know." She gestured downward with a pointed look, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Honestly, Harry, I got curious. And jealous."
Harry blinked, too stunned to respond.
"So," Lavender said, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. Her hands rested lightly on his chest as she looked up at him with a wicked smile. "I figured… why let Romilda have all the fun? I want to see for myself. I want a turn."
Harry's grip on Lavender's hair tightened as he thrust into her mouth, his balls slapping against her chin with every movement. The wet sound of her gagging mixed with his groans, and he couldn't stop himself from muttering, "Fuck… fuck yeah…" under his breath. Her throat was tight, hot, and perfect, and every time he pushed deeper, it felt like his brain short-circuited.
McLaggen's words flashed through his mind: "She doesn't deepthroat like Lavender." And Merlin, was that true. Lavender was eager, taking him so far down that his cock felt like it was in a vice. He grinned to himself, his hips snapping forward, each thrust rougher than the last.
Tears rolled down Lavender's cheeks, her spit dripping onto her chin as Harry's cock stretched her throat. She gagged and moaned around him, loving the way it made her feel, a total slut. Her chest felt hot, and her heart pounded, but she leaned into it, letting herself enjoy every filthy second.
Romilda was right! His cock is amazing! The thought echoed in her mind as she sucked harder, her hands steadying herself against his thighs.
MMm… Slurp…
Lavender pulled back, coughing softly as she gasped for air. Shy smile spread across her spit-slicked face. She glanced up at Harry, who was leaning against the wall with a smug grin, his cock still rock hard and glistening.
Without saying a word, Lavender opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, letting it rest flat and inviting. Harry didn't miss a beat, lightly slapping his cock against her tongue a few times, the wet sound making her giggle softly.
His eyes drifted lower, landing squarely on her big, juicy tits. What are those, 35DD? Harry wondered to himself.
Lavender noticed immediately and smirked. "You like these, don't you?" she teased, cupping her breasts and lifting them slightly.
Harry didn't answer, but the way his cock twitched told her everything. Taking the hint, Lavender leaned back a bit and pressed her soft, warm tits around his shaft. "Let me make you feel good, baby," she purred, slowly moving her chest up and down.
Her spit made everything slippery, her movements smooth. She pressed her tits tighter around him, looking up at him with a wicked grin as she worked. "Mmm, does this feel good? Bet Romilda never gave you one of these…"
Harry let out a low groan, his hands resting at his sides as he watched her. Every time his cock peeked out from between her breasts, Lavender moved her tongue over the tip, her dirty talk making his head spin. "So big, Harry… I love how you feel between my tits…" she whispered, her voice dripping with heat as she picked up the pace.
Harry's hips jerked forward without warning, his head snapping back as a loud, "Ohhh FUCK!" ripped from his throat. His cock throbbed hard, and his full balls unloaded, sending thick jets of hot cum bursting out. The first streak painted Lavender's chest, the second splattered across her neck and chin, and the third hit her cheek, dripping onto her lips. "Oh my God!" Harry groaned, his body trembling as the last spurts dripped onto her cleavage, leaving him shaking and utterly spent.
Lavender giggled, her fingers brushing over the sticky mess on her chest. "Mmm, made you cum so hard, didn't I?" she teased, grabbing her wand from her discarded robe. Standing up, she tapped it lightly against her messy tits, murmuring a quick cleaning charm as the cum vanished. With a wink, she gave him one last playful lick over the head of his cock before tucking him back into his trousers. "As much as I'd love to keep playing, we've got to get back to the Great Hall. Lunch is waiting, Potter," she said, smoothing her skirt and pulling him toward the door with a satisfied grin.
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