They sat in a quiet corner of the library, the soft rustling of pages and the scratch of quills filling the air. Harry leaned over his parchment, trying to focus on his homework, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Lavender. What the hell was up with her lately? The way she was obsessed with spit was... new, even by Hogwarts standards. He'd been dealing with witches throwing themselves at him left and right, but this? This was different. Weird, even.
He shook his head, deciding to deal with it some other time, and forced himself back into his homework. The essay on the properties of the Draught of Living Death wasn't going to write itself, after all.
Ron was sitting next to him, scribbling furiously at his own parchment, while Hermione was on the other side, flipping through *Advanced Potion-Making* for extra reference. Everything was calm, almost peaceful for a change. Harry scratched out another sentence, his quill moving steadily across the parchment, when he heard footsteps approaching.
"Hey, Harry. Ron. Hermione."
He looked up to see Parvati Patil standing in front of them, her usual warm smile in place. She waved a little before plopping herself down between him and Ron, pulling out her own stack of books. Harry smiled back at her, nodding as she settled in. She glanced at him, then at Ron, before flipping her book open and getting to work. Just another normal study session, or so it seemed.
They worked in silence for a while, each of them buried in their own assignments, but Harry wasn't able to shake the feeling that something was off. He wasn't sure what, but he could sense it. And then, out of nowhere, he felt it. A hand, delicate but firm, resting on his crotch.
He froze, his quill pausing mid-sentence as he glanced sideways. Parvati was staring at her homework with a look of pure innocence, her eyes focused on her notes like she was the picture of concentration. But her hand... her hand was definitely not on her book. She gave a subtle squeeze, rubbing him slowly through his pants, and Harry felt his pulse quicken.
He raised a brow at her, but Parvati didn't even glance his way. Her hand continued its slow, deliberate movements, rubbing up and down, teasing him. Harry took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He could stop this—he *should* stop this—but instead, he shook his head and tried to get back to his homework. Easier said than done.
Her touch was slow at first, almost playful, but it gradually picked up speed, her fingers pressing harder, her palm working him through the fabric until Harry could feel himself stiffening under her touch. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the growing pressure in his pants, but it was no use. Parvati was good. Too good.
Just when Harry thought he was about to lose it—just when he was sure he was about to release in the middle of the damn library—Parvati gasped, standing up so abruptly that her chair scraped against the floor, the loud noise echoing off the walls.
Harry blinked, caught off guard. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a little more hoarse than he intended.
Parvati stared down at Ron, her eyes wide with shock. "Ron," she said slowly, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement, "I think your... thing is waking up."
Ron looked confused, glancing down at his crotch like he had no idea what she was talking about. But then, realization dawned on his face, and he looked down, his eyes widening in disbelief. Sure enough, his shorts were straining, a visible bulge pressing against the fabric.
"What the hell..." Ron muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at Harry, a mix of shock and embarrassment on his face. "What do I do?"
"Take off your pants," Harry said immediately, not even thinking about it.
Ron's face flushed red. "We're in the library, mate!"
"Don't care," Harry said, his tone firm. "Just do it."
Parvati was already reaching out, her curiosity getting the better of her, her fingers brushing against Ron's growing erection. "Yeah, let's see it," she said, her voice teasing as she pulled at the waistband of his shorts. Ron hesitated for a moment but eventually complied, awkwardly shuffling out of his pants.
All three of them stared. Ron's cock was half-erect, standing out from his body in a way none of them had ever seen before. Parvati's eyes were wide with fascination, her hand reaching out to touch it again. "It's... it's actually getting up," she murmured, almost in disbelief.
But before anyone could say anything else, there was a loud gasp behind them, followed by the sound of books clattering to the floor. They all turned at once to see Millicent Bulstrode standing there, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at Ron's crotch.
Harry chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can explain—"
Millicent, however, was not in the mood for explanations. She stormed forward, grabbing Harry by the collar and yanking him up from his seat. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her face inches from his. "You said you were my friend. You said you wouldn't let them drag you into this, and now you're handing your best mate over to these... these minxes?"
"Millicent, it's not like that—" Harry tried to explain, but she wasn't having it.
"I trusted you!" Millicent growled, shaking him slightly. "I thought you were different."
Harry sputtered, trying to form a coherent sentence, but luckily for him, Hermione stepped in, her voice calm and authoritative. "Millicent, it's not what you think. We didn't use any potion on Ron. It's... natural."
Millicent turned to Hermione, her grip still tight on Harry's collar. "Natural?" she spat. "That's impossible."
Hermione pointed down at Ron's now-shrinking cock, still held awkwardly in Parvati's hand. "If we had used the potion, it wouldn't be going down this fast. The effects would have lasted longer."
Millicent hesitated, glancing down at Ron's limp member, and then back up at Hermione. Finally, she let go of Harry's collar, taking a step back. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice soft.
Harry sighed, smoothing out his shirt. "Next time, ask before you start grabbing people, yeah?"
Millicent nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. But then, she frowned, her eyes drifting back to Ron's crotch. "But... why did it go down?"
Parvati, still holding Ron's now-soft cock, looked at him curiously. "Yeah, why did it?"
Ron shrugged, clearly embarrassed. "I don't know. I felt my magic act up when it started to rise, but then... it just stopped."
Harry nodded, thinking it over. "Alright, pull your pants back up, mate," he said, motioning for Ron to get dressed. Then he turned back to Millicent. "And don't talk about this to anyone, alright?"
Millicent nodded quickly. "I won't."
Hermione, ever the peacekeeper, smiled at Millicent. "You can join us if you want. We're just finishing up some homework."
Millicent looked surprised, her eyes flicking between them all before she nodded gratefully. "Thanks."
---
They worked through the rest of their homework together, the tension from earlier slowly fading away. It wasn't long before they were chatting like normal, their conversation drifting to more mundane things—Quidditch, classes, upcoming exams. The usual Hogwarts stuff. Millicent, surprisingly, fit right in, joining the conversation with a dry wit that caught Harry off guard.
By the time they finished their work, the sun was beginning to set outside, casting a warm, golden glow over the library. Harry stretched, feeling a satisfying crack in his back as he stood up. "Alright, let's get to dinner."
They all gathered their things and headed down to the Great Hall together. The evening meal was in full swing, students chattering and laughing as they filled their plates. Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, grabbing a roll and tearing into it, but his eyes drifted over to Angelina Johnson, who was sitting with her Quidditch friends a few seats down.
He watched her closely, half-expecting to see some kind of smirk, some knowing glance that would tell him she'd been talking about what happened in the baths. But there was nothing. None of her friends looked at her weirdly, no one whispered behind her back. It was like nothing had happened at all.
Harry smiled to himself, nodding slightly. Good. That meant Angelina wasn't a braggart. He could work with that.
He ate quickly, his mind already made up. Once he finished, he stood, tapping Angelina on the shoulder as he passed by. "Come with me," he whispered, not waiting for her to respond as he headed toward the doors.
Angelina glanced around before following him, slipping out of the Great Hall discreetly. They made their way through the dimly lit corridors, the distant sound of clattering dishes and laughter fading behind them. When they were finally alone, Harry stopped, turning to face her with a grin.
"So," he said, leaning against the wall. "What was with the touching in the bath earlier?"
Angelina froze, her confidence faltering for a
second. She stumbled over her words, trying to backtrack. "I didn't mean to—I mean, I wasn't—"
Harry raised an eyebrow, cutting her off. "Don't lie. You did it on purpose."
Angelina bit her lip, looking like she was about to protest, but Harry continued, his voice low. "And you know what? I liked it. Felt good." He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers. "I want to feel it again."
Angelina's breath hitched, and she quickly nodded, her voice almost breathless. "I can do that."
They didn't waste any time. Harry grabbed her hand, leading her toward a small, cramped broom closet just down the hall. Once inside, he closed the door behind them, the space barely big enough for the two of them. He started stripping off his clothes, but this time, he hesitated, playing the shy act.
Angelina frowned, clearly annoyed. "What's with the shy act now? You weren't like this in the bath."
Harry glanced at her, his expression sheepish. "Well... you weren't naked back then."
Angelina rolled her eyes, but she smiled, her annoyance fading. "Alright, fine." She pulled off her clothes quickly, tossing them into the corner of the small room until she was standing before him, completely bare.
Harry grinned to himself, the act dropped as soon as she was undressed. He didn't have to make a move—Angelina pounced on him, pinning his wrists against the wall as she kissed her way down his neck, her lips trailing over his chest, his stomach. Her hands were all over him, rough, demanding, like she couldn't get enough of him.
She kissed him hard, her teeth nipping at his lips, her tongue pushing into his mouth with a fiery intensity. One of her hands moved lower, wrapping around his soft cock and giving it a slow, steady pump. It didn't take long for him to harden in her hand, growing stiff and thick under her touch.
Angelina pulled back for a second, her eyes wide with shock. "You got hard that fast?"
Harry looked at her, pretending to be concerned. "Did I do something wrong?"
Angelina shook her head, her expression shifting from shock to something else entirely. Hunger. "No," she murmured, her voice low. "Nothing wrong at all."
She dropped to her knees, her hand stroking him faster now, her other hand reaching between her own legs, rubbing herself furiously. Harry watched as she worked herself up, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. But he wasn't about to let her have all the fun.
With a growl, he grabbed her by the hips, yanking her up and spinning her around so she was pressed against the wall. His hands gripped her firm, athletic ass, squeezing it hard as he positioned himself at her entrance.
Angelina's breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. "Fuck, Harry," she moaned, her voice dripping with need. "I need it. Now."
Harry didn't hesitate. He pushed inside her with one hard thrust, groaning as her walls clenched tight around him. She let out a low moan, her hands bracing against the wall as she pushed back against him, driving him deeper.
They moved together, fast and rough, their bodies colliding in the small space. Harry's hands roamed over her body, gripping her waist, her breasts, her ass, anything he could reach. He thrust into her hard and fast, his hips slamming against her as her moans filled the cramped closet.
Angelina came first, her body tensing, her pussy clenching around him as she let out a loud, guttural moan. But Harry didn't stop. He kept going, his pace relentless, driving her over the edge again and again until she was shaking, gasping for breath, her body trembling with pleasure.
Finally, when he was close, he pulled her down onto his lap, his cock buried deep inside her as he thrust up into her one last time. They came together, her pussy squeezing him tight as his release flooded into her, their bodies shuddering with the intensity of it.
For a moment, they just sat there, breathing hard, their bodies still intertwined. Then, Harry leaned down, kissing her breasts, his lips soft against her flushed skin.
"That was good," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "We should do this again sometime."
Angelina, still dazed from the pleasure, nodded weakly. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Whenever you want."
Harry smirked to himself as he pulled away, getting dressed quickly while Angelina lay there, still recovering. He didn't need to say anything else. He'd won her over, just like he thought he would.
As he left the closet, a satisfied grin on his face, he knew he'd be coming back for more.
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