Ron looked a little depressed when he and Harry sat down in their usual seats at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. “What’s the matter with me, Harry? We’ve been together less than a week, and Hermione runs off with Ginny first chance she gets.”
“Well, I guess I could ask you the same question, but they’ve invited us along in a few hours. Let’s just see what they’re up to then,” Harry said with a grin. “Besides, we had a go right after we left them Saturday night. At least maybe they’ve managed to keep their hands off each other the whole week.” Then the grin slid off his face, “Ron, do you think we should tell them, about us I mean?”
“I can’t just walk up to Hermione and say ‘by the way, I went down on Harry after I shagged you last weekend, and then he fucked me senseless,’” Ron said, looking stricken.
“Well, we’d have to think of a better way to explain it, I think,” said Harry, laughing at Ron’s description of their evening, “I mean, they’d understand, wouldn’t they, seeing what they get up to an all?” Harry paused, as if deep in thought, then continued, “Does it bother you if they keep fooling around together? I don’t really want to give up what we do together, but, err, it seems kinda wrong to keep doing it unless Ginny and Hermione are okay about it.”
“I don’t want to give us up either. Hermione’s fantastic, but there are some things you can do to me that she just isn’t equipped for,” Ron said, blushing a little. “Merlin, maybe I really am a poof, but I don’t want to give Hermione up now either since I know what I’ve been missing. I don’t care if she still fools around with Ginny, ‘specially if they’ll let me watch. It, umm, was, umm, well, it didn’t bother me seeing Ginny naked like I thought it would.”
“You know, if you weren’t her brother, I’d probably have to hex you for that,” said Harry jovially.
After they ate, Harry and Ron went back up to the common room and took up seats near the fire. They tried to entertain themselves with a game of Wizard’s Chess, but both were distracted waiting for 8 o’clock to arrive, Ron so much so that Harry actually won the game. Ron’s chess pieces were not happy with him, and one of his knights actually rode off the board at the end of the game and socked him on the elbow for playing so badly.
At quarter to eight, Harry ran up to their room and grabbed the Marauder’s Map and his invisibility cloak – with any luck, the four young lovers would be returning to Gryffindor Tower well after curfew – then he and Ron set off toward the Room of Requirement, both expecting the girls to have some special surprise planned for them.
Harry and Ron were not disappointed if their expectation was to be surprised. When they arrived in the Room of Requirement, it was appointed just as it had been the previous Saturday evening, except with one small flaw . . . no girls. The boys just stared at one another, looking confused, and wondered if they should wait there, or go out to look for Hermione and Ginny. But then the door opened behind them, and Harry turned quickly to beam at . . . a house elf.
“Dobby?” he asked, surprised for the second time in nearly as few seconds. “What are you doing here?”
Dobby lifted a heavy tray up towards Harry, laden with fruits and cheeses and chocolates, just as Winky followed him into the room bearing a frosted flagon of pumpkin juice set in a bowl of ice that was enchanted so that it wouldn’t melt.
“Harry Potter, Sir,” said the first house elf, “Dobby is bringing the food and drink that Missy Weazy is asking us for, and Winky is bringing something as well. Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter, Sir, and his Weazys. Dobby hopes Harry Potter and his Weasys have fun tonight.” And with that, both house elves snapped their fingers and disappeared.
“Hmph, good thing Hermione didn’t go and ask him,” said Ron. “The way she goes on about S.P.E.W. every chance she gets, it’s a wonder they haven’t tried to poison the Gryffindor food in the Great Hall.” Harry nodded in agreement.
“Well,” Ron continued, as he plucked a plump strawberry from the tray and dipped it into the chocolate sauce before plopping it into his mouth, “I guess we should wait then.”
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Part 8
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Within just a few minutes, Hermione and Ginny came bursting into the room, their robes swishing behind them, with their arms loaded and their faces flushed. Ginny’s hair and robes were actually even wet on her left shoulder.
“Ooohh, if I could get my hands on that Peeves, I’d strangle him,” fumed Hermione. “He chased us all the way here, trying to drop ink pellets and water balloons on us! If we hadn’t been carrying some stuff that might have been a bit difficult to explain, I’d have gone straight to McGonagall’s office about him.”
Ron grabbed her and kissed her to shut her up. Harry and Ginny just stared at them, both a little stunned at how one good shag could have taken Ron so quickly from gangly and awkward, to suave and debonair. Harry helped Ginny set her things down, then they took Hermione’s from her and set them down as well, and Harry used his wand to dry Ginny’s hair and robes. Ginny lit the candles she and Hermione brought, and turned on Hermione’s wireless for some background music, then after a couple of minutes, Ginny cleared her throat rather loudly in an effort to get Ron’s and Hermione’s attention.
“Oh, umm, right then,” stammered Hermione, her face even more flushed than it had been moments before. “Ginny and I thought since we just sort of jumped into things last time the four of us were here together, it might be fun to start out a little slower tonight.” Ron’s face fell a bit, but he recovered himself quickly and didn’t say anything, another sign of his newfound maturity.
“Hermione told a bunch of us girls once about this muggle card game her parents learned from some American friends, and they liked to play it at parties. It sounded like fun, so we tried it,” Ginny began, but Ron couldn’t help himself then, “Muggle cards? What can they do?”
“Well, they don’t ‘do’ anything Ron,” said Hermione, clearly trying to be patient with him, “But it’s called ‘Guts’ and it’s sort of a betting game. Muggles play with regular money of course, but when we played in the dorm, we played with knuts.”
“Only Hermione and I thought the four of us might like to play with different stakes,” Ginny interjected, a twinkle in her eyes, “like perhaps with bits of clothing maybe?”
Ron instantly hitched his grin back in place, “I always thought it would be nice to learn more about Muggles. So, how do we play?”
Hermione got out two decks of ordinary muggle cards and shuffled them together. She explained the relatively simple rules, amended of course to allow for their preferred betting method. She told them the game is all about pairs. The dealer gives each player two cards, and then each player bets on what he or she feels is the strength of their particular hand, by either choosing to “go out” if their hand is weak or “stay in” if their hand is strong. An actual pair is the strongest hand, and the higher the cards, the better the pair, except that a pair of twos beats everything. If no one who is still “in” has a pair, then the player with the highest card wins. If you choose to go out after the deal, you lose nothing. But if you stay in and lose, you forfeit an article of clothing. If you stay in and win, you lose nothing.
And so they played. Hermione dealt the first hand, which Ginny won with a Jack and a ten. Everyone stayed in that hand, mainly to get a feel for the play, and because everyone felt comfortable forfeiting their robes; if fact, each probably wanted to lose their robes because the air was heating up rather quickly from the sheer anticipation of “that” need.
After several more hands, the four teenagers sat cross-legged on the huge bed, studying their cards intently. The girls were still in better wardrobe shape than the boys, Ron being down to just a rather sexy pair of navy boxer shorts and Harry in burgundy ones and a sock. Hermione still wore her bra and knickers, her skirt and a camisole, while Ginny could claim all that Hermione wore, plus her white oxford blouse and a knee sock.
Mercifully, Ron won the next hand and watched with his bottom lip bruised between his teeth as Harry’s sock joined the discard pile, along with Hermione’s skirt and Ginny’s knee sock. No one actually bothered to go “out” anymore, unless their hand was really bad, because losing was almost as much fun as winning.
Ron was next to deal, which gave him the added advantage of having to say “in” or “out” last, giving him an extra opportunity to spare his dignity if his hand was poor, which it was; a three and a five. Harry frowned at his cards, but bravely stayed in, as did the girls. Ron prayed Harry’s hand would be as bad as his, as he said he, too, was “in,” all the while knowing he was about to lose.
Ginny turned her cards to reveal a Queen and a three. Harry’s hand beat Ron’s, but his Jack and eight were no match for Ginny’s Queen, and the two boys flushed, knowing they would soon be divested of all attire. Hermione grinned wickedly as she flashed them her pair of two’s and, with a little shout of triumph, shouted “Now strip!”
Ron hesitated just a bit, but Harry leaned back on his elbows and pulled his boxers down over his hips, allowing his penis to bob freely at them all as he settled himself back into his cross-legged position on the bed. He was actually a little surprised at how comfortable he felt being naked in front of the two girls and Ron, but supposed it was because Ginny was his girlfriend, and Ron and Hermione had been his best friends for so long that they were just, well, comfortable together.
Although Ron had started to move almost as soon as Harry did, Hermione noticed how intently he was watching Harry undress, reminding her of a nagging suspicion she’d entertained for most of the past year. Ginny peeled off her skirt, and actually unbuttoned her blouse, remarking that the room was a bit too warm. It was Ginny’s turn to deal. “Umm, Hermione?” she asked, “What do Harry and Ron do now if they lose?”
Ginny’s innocent question gave Hermione the key to potentially unlocking her little mystery. “Well, how about if anyone who loses a hand, but has nothing left with which to bet, pays the winner another way . . . say by doing absolutely anything that the winner asks them to do?”
Ginny, of course, loved the idea since she still had on the most clothing. Harry and Ron looked a bit apprehensive, but literally had nothing left to lose, so they agreed.
Ironically, Harry and Ron tied on the hand Ginny dealt, both holding pairs of fours. Ginny forfeited her blouse and Hermione her camisole. Ron won the next hand, but Hermione had wisely sat out with a two and a seven. Ginny pulled her camisole off over her head and called her brother a Wanker when he merely commanded Harry to give Ginny a kiss, although she actually enjoy the rather lingering kiss from the very naked Harry.
On Hermione’s deal, Harry won the hand, and quickly commanded Ron to help the two girls divest themselves of their next articles of clothing. Ron made to rise from the bed, but both Hermione and Ginny turned their backs to him so he could unfasten their bras and push the straps from their shoulders, Hermione flushing a little as they turned back toward Harry and Ron and she noticed the hungry stares of both boys looking from one girl to the next. ‘How can Ginny sit there so calmly?’ she wondered to herself, as her heart hammered in her chest. Ginny appeared completely unaffected by the attention.
Ginny won the next hand, and both Harry and Ron knew they could be in serious trouble. She motioned for Hermione to wait when she was about to slip her knickers off, and Ginny looked Harry directly in the eye as she said, “Okay Potter, let’s see then.”
Harry looked at her blankly, no idea what she meant. “On your feet Potter,” she commanded. “Hermione and I want to see what you’ve been hiding under those Quidditch robes all these years. A slow stroll around the room should do it.”
A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitched, but he refused to show any fear as he pushed himself roughly off the bed and to his feet. He could feel the color creeping up his cheeks; parading his nudity in front of three people was not nearly as comfortable as nakedness while seated, but he hoped his flushed face wouldn’t show in the candlelight as he strutted around the room (strolling was for girls), very aware of the three pairs of eyes on him, and equally aware that his penis was no longer bobbing merrily, but was jutting rather purposely forward, proudly leading the way. A mocking voice inside his head whispered ‘OK, so maybe my Dad did strut.’