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"Eleven boys, three girls, and one professor, Hermione," I say as we lounge in the common room late the next morning.
"What?" She asks, looking up from one of the books she received as a gift.
"That's how many people asked me about the Thirty-Seven Steps to Female Ecstasy at the Ball last night," I say.
Harry and Neville burst out laughing, while Hermione's cheeks bloom a light pink. "Oh." Then her eyes widen as she fully processes my previous statements. "A professor?"
I ignore the implied question. I don't feel like describing how embarrassing it was for Professor Vector to theorize on the significance of the number thirty-seven and what the completion of various steps must mean.
Needless to say, it was quite awkward...and kinda hot. That's probably why I've been humming 'here's to you Mrs. Robinson' all morning.
"How many asked you?"
"Just two girls and a boy," she says in a small voice, obviously hiding something. I raise my eyebrow at her.
"What? It's true!" My eyebrow doesn't retract.
"Oh, fine, one was Mandy Brocklehurst passing the message to me from a bunch of Ravenclaws, and the other was Susan Bones getting the scoop for probably two dozen Hufflepuffs watching from one corner."
"That was after you danced with her. Susan said she wanted to ask you but chickened out." She dutifully picks nonexistent lint from her robes in embarrassment.
I whistle.
"Lucky bastard," Ron grumbles.
"Language, Ronald," Hermione says reflexively.
"They don't all want me to try it on them," I point out, "in fact I imagine very few of them do, they're probably just either curious or they hope I teach their boyfriends."
"Except for the boy that asked me," Hermione says, now torn between amusement and embarrassment, "he was looking at you quite intently."
"Really? But it's supposed to be for Female Ecstasy."
She shrugs. "He didn't seem too concerned about that."
"I have to admit I'm curious to know if it would work on a gay male," I say, scratching my head. "I can't imagine it would. Supposedly it works on lesbians, so it seems like it's tailored specifically for the female anatomy."
"Gross!" Ron says, making a face.
"He wouldn't actually do it, Ronald," Hermione scolds, but then her face scrunches up when she looks at me, "would you?"
I snort. "Well there was that one time I tried to get Harry to kiss my cheek..." I laugh at Ron's gaping disbelief, and even Neville flinches a bit.
"How can...how could you...?" Ron sputters.
"We're a little more understanding in the Muggle world, Ron," I say with a shrug. "Sure, I'm heterosexual, but there is nothing wrong with men and women who are not. In fact, the women can be quite nice to watch."
"William!" Hermione says, aghast.
Oh, you poor teenagers stuck in the early 90's, to have never known the wonders of Internet porn.
"Hey, if they're comfortable with their sexuality and they get off on being exhibitionists, who am I to deny them their pleasure?"
Or take advantage of their potentially regrettable decisions, in the case of Internet porn, but they're too young to hear that.
"You're a noble man to make such sacrifices, William," Harry says, blushing in embarrassment for me.
"I think you mispronounced 'pervert,' Harry," Hermione says with a glare directed toward me.
"Says the girl who told our year's biggest gossip that I used the Thirty-Seven Steps of Female Ecstasy on her," I say with a grin.
Hermione's glare drops when her face turns a brilliant shade of red.
"What makes it even better is that she was telling the truth," Harry says with a similar grin.
"Between Hermione, the lady in the Slytherin common room portrait, and everybody who asked about it last night, I'm well on my way to cementing my reputation as a sex god," I say, rubbing my chin.
"Actually I think the lady in the portrait wanted to kill you," Neville says.
"Details," I say, waving his objection away.
~~~~~
Hermione was only mildly unamused by our conversation the day after the Yule Ball, but she was quite a bit more unamused by Rita Skeeter's article in the Daily Prophet about it.
In the original timeline it was the fact that she attended the Ball with Krum, but this time it seems she found something a little more juicy.
My first instinct is to laugh out loud, but I decide not to, on the off chance that Hermione has either come across or simply invented a castration curse.
"Don't they have anything better to report on than the love lives of teenagers?" Hermione growls furiously.
"When one is the Boy-Who-Lived, I guess not," I say. "Sorry, Harry."
Hermione grumbles some more, and Harry commiserates with her.
"Well, it could be worse," I say hopefully.
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who is made to look like a tart!"
I am, actually...or at least whatever the male version of that particular piece of British slang is...but I don't want to contradict her at the moment.
"Well at least I'm not rich and famous," I say, thinking of Krum.
"Since they know nothing about me, they seem like pretty far-fetched and pathetic rumors. I mean, you went to the Ball with Harry and everything."
"In fact, they even mention how I went with a Slytherin! I have a feeling that might actually make people wonder how true it all is." I don't mention the obvious fact that most of it is true.
"I'm not sure, I think the damage is still done," she says, dropping her face into her hands.
"This is the kind of thing that could come back and haunt me later in life. Don't they have some kind of protection for minors from stuff like this?"
"That's a Muggle thing that probably only came about within the last couple hundred years," I say, "so the wizarding world wouldn't have caught up yet."
This observation doesn't cheer Hermione up at all.
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Hey guys if u like the fanfic and want to read ahead by 27+ chapters or just want to support take a visit on my patreon.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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