Wizard Gone Wild
A/N: So this was going to be an epilogue…it really was. But then I thought, "Why wasn't Susan's best friend from school and likely maid of honor at the party?" And rather than callously kill off Hannah Abbott, I thought of a viable excuse for her absence. And then that excuse took off, and…well, you can read what happened. There will be more to this story, of course.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
On the morning after Harry bared his all to all those witches, his subconscious dragged his brain away from slumberland with some classic good news/bad news.
Good News: He wasn't waking up in his own bed.
Bed News: It wasn't Hermione's.
Really Bad News: He'd woken up in this bed before.
The stiff linen sheets and gown…the residual taste of medicinal potions…the spell-scrubbed antiseptic absence of smells…he knew where he was even without opening his eyes.
So…he didn't bother opening those eyes, as he began to check the state of his extremities.
His toes wiggled, his fingers wiggled…he could bend his knees and raise his arms. All good.
Harry then checked the only extremity that really mattered for a man, whither he be a wizard or muggle. He reached under the sheets, grabbed a firm hold of himself, and sighed in relief.
"Now," he thought to himself, "how in Hades did I end up here?"
He turned his head to the side and frowned. The chair that Hermione had often claimed during her vigils was empty, but the bed adjacent to the "Harry James Potter Memorial Bed" was not, for Hermione was in it.
Harry's immediate concerns that she was also injured eased when he realized that she wasn't dressed in a hospital gown (as he was). Instead, she was still wearing that little black dress, as she slept on her side, facing away from him. Harry's eyes trailed down that dress, from Hermione's wonderful mass of brown curls, to where the hemline had ridden up over her bum…a bum not covered by knickers, and only partially covered by blankets.
The sight of Hermione's exposed flesh created the expected redistribution of blood within Harry's pelvic region. This erection, however, created sensations that were quite unexpected.
Hermione woke instantly, and flipped over towards Harry.
"Harry! What's wrong?" she cried out.
"It hurts!" he cried out, grabbing his crotch.
Harry quickly pulled off the covers to his bed, only to discover something even more distressing.
"It hurts! And it's gone!"
"Let me get the healer," Hermione replied.
As she raced off to the nurse's office at one end of the ward, Harry tried to make sense of his senses. It felt as if someone was dragging a sharp knife up and down the bits that his blood-covered hand was clutching, but Harry couldn't see the wounded area…no penis…no scrotum…nothing but a flat patch of skin.
The Boy-Who-Stripped turned towards the sound of feet rushing from the Nurse's office.
"Hannah?" he winced. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you," the Healer Apprentice quipped, as she pulled out her wand.
"Let go," she stated crisply.
Harry reflexively complied with the orders, and allowed Hannah to cast suture charms that closed the open cuts that covered his rapidly shrinking shaft. In only a few moment's time, he was flaccid, and the cuts were healed.
"Better," Harry sighed. "What the hell is going on, Hannah?"
"I don't know just yet," the witch replied, as she grabbed the magically self-updating medical chart that hung from the foot of his bed.
Hannah's eyes drifted towards Harry's crotch.
"Harry, can you tell me what just happened?"
"I just woke up," Harry explained. "And it was gone!"
"What was gone?"
"Your bits are there, Harry…trust me," Hermione said, as she reached for his hand.
Hannah eyes lit up "Of course, Hermione…he doesn't know yet."
"Know what?" Harry asked, as Hermione smiled in recognition.
Hannah took a notepad and muggle ballpoint pen from a pocket and scribbled out a short message.
"Read this," she ordered, holding the notepad in front of Harry's face.
Her patient read the message, looked from the parchment down towards his crotch, and let out a sigh of relief.
"Later, Harry…we need to document your symptoms while they're still fresh in mind."
"Fine," he muttered.
"Did you wake up in pain?"
Hannah's patient paused for a moment. "No."
"Did you wake up with an erection?"
"What?" he asked.
Hannah rolled her eyes. "Harry, think of me as your Healer, rather than your former classmate. As your Healer, I need to know…did you wake up with an erection, or did you become sexually aroused at a point in time after you woke up?"
Harry sighed, and glanced rather sheepishly towards Hermione.
"Afterwards," he admitted.
The edge of Hannah's mouth twitched as wrote down Harry's response.
"Thinking of anyone in particular at the time?" Hermione asked with a coy smile.
Harry snorted. "It was something I saw…not something I was thinking about."
"I see," Hermione replied. "And what exactly caused your erection?"
Harry frowned in embarrassment. "Does Hannah really need to know?"
"No," Hannah replied with a smile, "but I imagine that Hermione does."
Harry rolled his eyes. "It was you, of course," he told Hermione. "Your dress was up around your hips, but your blankets were down around your thighs.
"Oh," Hermione said, blushing.
"Couldn't help myself," Harry admitted.
The former Hufflepuff nodded as she pocketed her notepad and drew her wand.
"I should take a closer look at those wounds I just healed," she stated. "I could have sworn I had closed them all properly last night."
She bent over the bed and frowned.
"Hmmmm…" Hannah stated, as she examined a long thin scar line. "Hermione?" she asked, pointing towards the mark. "Do you remember that diagonal cut that's right under the crown being there last night?"
"What?" asked Harry.
Hermione ignored his question, and bent over the other side of the bed, so that her nose and Hannah's were both but a few inches from Harry's bits.
"No, I don't….that's a new one."
"I agree," the Healer Apprentice replied. She then stood to record her observations on Harry's chart.
"Is it my turn a few questions?"
"Sure, Harry," Hermione replied.
"What happened and how did we get here?"
"You mean that you don't remember?" Hannah asked.
"Maybe you should have examined both of his heads last night," Hermione quipped.
Healer Abbott nodded. "There's always a slight risk of short-term memory loss when you combine firewhiskey, calming draught, and dreamless sleep potion."
"Hermione," Harry asked calmly. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"
His best friend bit her lower lip.
"Well, Harry…how much of last night do you remember?"
Harry frowned, then furrowed his brow.
"I remember….Merlin, was that was a weird dream…volunteering to be a stripper for Susan's party, and buzzing Minerva's head while I flew bare-arsed on a broomstick…and chasing after your airborne knickers…"
"That actually happened."
"Oh." he said softly. A beat later, he moaned more loudly, as most of the night previous came crashing back into his consciousness.
"So I really did flash my bits?"
"You did more than just flash them, Harry," Hermione said with a wry smile.
"Really?" asked Harry worriedly. "I didn't do anything inappropriate with Susan, or…or with you, did I?"
Hermione smiled. "You did nothing inappropriate with Susan. Whether what you and I did was appropriate or not…."
"Oh, no…you didn't….we didn't….?"
Hermione giggled. "Sorry, Harry, just some more teasing…we didn't put on that much of a show."
"How much is 'that much,' Hermione?"
"Well then," interrupted Hannah with a grin, "I've fixed things up best I can for now, I'll just let you two sort things out."
Harry reached out and stopped the Healer Apprentice by grabbing her arm. "Oh, no, Hannah…you got involved with Hermione and me at some point last night."
"Mr. Potter," Hannah huffed. "At no time did I engage in any unprofessional conduct with my patient…unless the potions didn't work and you something happened in your dreams."
Sitting on the chance for a witty reply, Harry nodded.
"Okay, fine…but I'm still waiting for some answers here."
"Certainly," Hannah replied stiffly. "Mr. Potter, you were brought into the Hogwarts Infirmary at 1:45am this morning by Miss Granger. Upon examination, I discovered severe lacerations and tissue damage to your penis. After providing appropriate medical care, I held you overnight for observation, and so that Madame Pomfrey had opportunity to review my diagnosis and your treatment plan."
Harry held up his hands in mock surrender. "Easy Hannah…I'm not accusing you of doing anything wrong…it's just that…last thing I remember is Hermione on stage with me, grabbing hold of my…well, not my hand…and next thing I know, I wake up in the Infirmary with a nicked-up invisible penis…and where is Madame Pomfrey, anyway?"
"She got called in to St. Mungo's to help deal with a rash of dragon pox cases last night," Hannah explained. "As a Healer Apprentice, I was qualified to hold down the castle in her absence." She then asked, "Would you rather I not treat you, Harry?"
"No, no…not at all," Harry replied. "I mean…I don't have any problems with you treating me…It's just that…well, you're a friend, and a witch, and having you treating my…well, this area of my anatomy…"
Hermione laughed. "So now you get all shy and modest?" she asked. "Sorry, Harry, but your barn door was left wide open last night, and your horse was out and galloping."
"Is that a complaint?"
"No," Hermione replied with a smirk. "Just an observation."
"Sounds like there was a lot of observation going on last night," Hannah sighed. "I'm really sorry that I missed the party."
"Me too," Hermione replied. "But at least you'll be able to attend the wedding this afternoon, right?"
Hannah smiled and nodded. "Madame Pomfrey promised to be back by then."
"If not sooner," said a voice, as the Hogwarts nurse stepped out of the floo.
She strode briskly towards Harry's bed and folded her arms.
"Will there ever be a day when I need not anticipate your presence here, Mr. Potter?"
Harry offered the nurse a weak smile. "I assure you, Poppy, that despite your radiance and charm, that I would have much rather woken in a different bed this morning."
Hannah snorted, then leaned over to whisper into Hermione's ear.
"As if the two of you would have actually done any sleeping in your bed."
"Ssshhh!" Hermione scolded.
Madame Pomfrey pretended not to hear as she pulled down the covers that Harry had pulled up when she first arrived.
"Good Heavens, Healer Abbott!" she cried. "What required you to amputate Mr. Potter's penis?"
"But I didn't!" insisted Hannah. "He's all there."
"Then why do I see a pelvic region that is anatomically incorrect?"
"The note, Hannah," chirped Harry.
"What?" the witch asked. "Oh, yes…how could I forget?"
Hannah ripped off the top page of her notepad and handed it to her supervisor. The handwritten message on this piece of parchment read, ""I know what Harry Potter's reproductive organs look like."
Poppy eyes went wide when she read the note. Those eyes then shifted from note to nether regions.
"A Fidelius Charm?" she asked. "Would somebody explain the need for this kind of magic?"
"Well," said Hermione, "Under a set of barely plausible circumstances, Harry agreed to perform a striptease for Susan Bones and a paid audience of several hundred witches…I'm surprised that you didn't hear about it, actually."
The mediwitch snorted. "Some of us did have jobs to do last night." She then added, "And that prompted the need for your charms, Miss Granger?"
Hermione blushed at the double entendre. "We didn't want pictures spread over the front page of the Prophet, so we confiscated cameras at the door. The secret protected by the Fidelius keeps someone in the audience from sharing an explicit and anatomically correct memory with the press."
Poppy nodded. "It'll keep a lot of witches frustrated as well, I imagine."
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "They were promised the chance to see all of Harry…nobody guaranteed that they'd be able to recall what they saw."
"I'm a little worried about they will remember," said Harry. "Makes be out to be a dickless Ken doll."
"Language, Mr. Potter."
"Sorry," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Don't worry just yet," Hermione told Harry. "I haven't had the chance to interview anyone who saw you, but hasn't been told the secret."
"They'd see what I saw, I imagine," Harry opined. "A fully flat front."
"True," said Hermione with a twinkle in her eye. "But they might be able to recall how excited they and the others were when they saw what they can no longer recall seeing…and they'd still be able recall the bulge in your thong, and your tight bum, and the sounds of all of those panting witches, and the musky scent of pheromones that lay thick in air…"
"Careful, Hermione, you're waxing rather lyrical," Hannah teased.
"So what's with the change in plan for secret keeper?" Harry asked. "It was supposed to be me."
"Yes it was," Hermione agreed. "But you were too out of it after the calming draught to participate in the spell work, and I couldn't make myself the secret keeper, so…"
"So you better be nice to me, or else," Hannah informed Harry.
"Healer Abbott!" scolded Poppy. "Must I remind you of your Oaths?"
"No, Ma'am," Hannah replied with a smirk. "Just teasing the patient, ma'am."
"Yes, well teasing is the last thing Mr. Potter needs right now, given the level of trauma."
Poppy then reached for the medical charts, handed them to her assistant, and said, "Healer Abbott, we are now doing rounds…present your case."
"Yes, Ma'am," Hannah replied, as she looked at the case history that she'd worked up the night before.
"The patient is a twenty-two year old wizard who arrived at the infirmary with severe lacerations on the penis. According to the wizard's companion, the cause of the injury was spell-related, but not due to spell damage."
"Miss Granger stated this?" Poppy asked. "How did the patient describe his circumstances?"
"Erm…given the nature and extent of his injuries, the patient displayed transient bouts of non-responsive incoherency."
"I'd like to see just how coherent you'd be if your bits were nearly ripped off," Harry chided.
"Oh, so you remember now?" Hermione asked. "Good, then that memory loss really was short-term."
"Yes, I remember," Harry replied. "Don't imagine it's something I'll ever forget."
"Then do explain," asked Madame Pomfrey.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I'd just finished giving the witches a good show. I was standing with Hermione on stage starkers…well, I was starkers, she still had her dress on…and then she said that we should find someplace more…private…for her performance."
He snorted when Poppy cocked an eyebrow towards Hermione.
"So," Harry continued, "she suggested her place, but I thought that she'd had too much to drink to safely apparate on her own. The lines for the floo were horrific, so I offered to side-along her."
"And," interjected Hermione, "Harry told me to hold on tight, and I thought that I'd be cute and grab a waist-high Harry handle."
"Waist-high Harry…oh, I see," Poppy stated. "Was this a one-handed or two-handed grip?"
"Two-handed," Hermione admitted with a deep blush.
"Needless to say, she caught me by surprise," Harry admitted. "Combine that with my inability to land on my feet when I travel magically, and…"
"I forgot about our balance issues," Hermione admitted. "His natural clumsiness, and my drink-induced grace."
"Well, it's true, Harry," said Hermione. "Long story short…"
"Ouch, now there's a poor choice of words, all things considered," Harry stated.
"Oops, sorry," Hermione replied. "When we arrived in my flat, Harry went tumbling one way, I went tumbling another way, and I tried to take my Harry handle with me."
Harry involuntarily brought his legs together at the memory.
Poppy turned towards Hannah. "Please continue, Healer,"
"Yes, Ma'am," Hannah replied. "As I said, the patient arrived here with severe lacerations on the penis. Once we got him in bed, I examined the wounded area, cast diagnostic charms, then magically healed the opened wounds. The patient was given a healing potion, pain potion, calming draught, and dreamless sleep potion, and held overnight for observation."
The Hogwarts nurse nodded, then asked for Harry's charts. As she flipped through the pages, she asked, "But that isn't the end of the story, is it, Healer Abbott?"
"No, Ma'am," she replied. "The patient indicated that he woke this morning pain-free, but subsequently experienced a recurrence of symptoms when he became…tumescent."
"So the suturing charms you used last night didn't take hold?"
"No, Ma'am, they held," Healer Abbott replied. "When I examined the patient this morning, I observed a pattern of cuts that were distinct from those previously healed."
"Indicating that the original wounds were more than just physical in nature."
As Poppy nodded in agreement, Harry asked, "So it was more than just Hermione holding on too tightly?"
Hannah nodded in reply. "I believe so, Harry…these were new cuts, so…unless another pair of hands were grabbing your penis too tightly this morning…."
Madame Pomfrey arched her eyebrows towards Harry. "No time for modesty, young man…were you masturbating this morning?"
Harry blanched. "No, of course not…of all the things…"
Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, it's okay if you were, I mean…if the sight of my fanny was…."
The patient shook his head. "Hermione, that was what got me hard, but I didn't have time to do anything about it…I swear!"
"Calm down, Harry," Poppy stated. "We believe you…just had to ask."
"Yes, Poppy," Harry replied. "So you think I've been cursed, or something?"
"It's possible," she replied, looking at his charts. "Although….Healer Abbott, did you suspect that your patient was cursed last night?"
"Then why did you cast a Finite Incantatum?"
"Well, Ma'am…given the nature of the injury, I..erm, well…I thought that it might be related to sexual activity, and that an Engorgement charm had been cast."
"And did the counterspell have any effect?"
"No Ma'am," Hannah admitted. "He's naturally well-hung."
"Is that an appropriate clinical observation, Healer Abbott?"
"Sorry..erm….the patient's abnormally oversized…dimensions…were not magically augmented."
"I told you that last night," Hermione muttered. "But did you believe me?"
"Don't be too harsh on her, Miss Granger," Poppy said with a smile. "It wouldn't have been the first time that a young wizard limped into this ward with a self-applied Engorgement charm gone bad."
She looked back down at the charts.
"You detected a contraceptive charm, Healer Abbott?"
"Yes, Ma'am," she replied.
Hearing this, Hermione bent down and whispered into Harry's ear.
"Were you planning on getting lucky last night, Mister?"
Harry shook his head. "Just some Constant Vigilance," he replied.
Poppy cast a diagnostic charm towards Harry's crotch.
"I see that this charm is still active," she noted.
"Yes, Ma'am," Hannah replied. "When it resisted my Finite spell. I suspected that it was the long-term, self-administered version of the charm, but the patient was in no condition to cancel his own spell."
"But he is now," stated Poppy. She turned to Harry and asked him to remove the contraceptive charm. He raised an eyebrow.
"Think that there's a parasitic curse hiding underneath that spell signature?" he asked.
The nurse shrugged. "That's why I asked."
Harry nodded, and cancelled the charm.
Poppy then cast her own diagnostic spells over Harry's crotch while the others watched with nervous interest.
"Hmmmm," she finally uttered. "Something is off here."
Harry leaned around to read the "print-out" that was magically hanging above Poppy's wand.
"Oh, Merlin, somebody has cursed my bits."
"It would appear so," the nurse replied.
"But how?" Hermione asked. "We were watching for wands during the show."
"Which wand, though?" asked Poppy flippantly. "Mr. Potter, I don't suppose you remember being cursed last night?"
Harry shook his head.
"And the symptoms were coincident with your appartion?"
Harry nodded. "I has hurting in a bad way just as soon as I landed in Hermione's flat…that's why we thought it was because of her….tight grip."
Poppy nodded. "I think that we'll need to go back and review the incident." She then handed the charts to Hannah and strode towards the fireplace. Throwing a pinch of powder into the fire, she called out, "Headmistress McGonagall?"
It took more than a few moments for a weary-looking head to pop up from the flames.
"What is it, Poppy?"
"I have need of your pensieve for a patient that I'm working on…could you step through with it?"
"Is this an emergency, or do I have time to get dressed?"
Madame Pomfrey looked over her shoulder towards the occupied bed, but decided that Harry had suffered enough teasing that morning.
"You have time to dress, Minerva."
While Poppy was talking with the Headmistress, Harry, Hermione and Hannah were discussing a different topic.
"So why the wording change, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"The protected secret…you switched from 'Harry Potter's penis' to 'Harry Potter's reproductive organs'."
"That was my suggestion," Hannah explained. "Without the word change, your testicles would have been memorable…not that they aren't memorable already."
"Is that a clinical diagnosis, Healer Abbott?" Hermione teased.
"Shush," the witch replied with a smile. "Harry, I thought about what it would look like if I could see your scrotum, but not your penis, and figured that 'all or nothing' was a better option."
Harry nodded. "Makes sense, I guess."
Minerva McGonagall chose that moment to step through the infirmary's floo connection with a pensieve in her hands.
"So what's it this time?" a crabby headmistress asked. "Identify a mystery ingredient in a potion gone bad?"
"More like identify the mystery magic on a penis gone missing," Poppy thought to herself. But being the professional that she was, she had no plans on verbalizing this assessment…at least not until she was out of the earshot of the patient.
"Actually, Min, it's a bigger mystery than that," she replied, quite pleased with her double entendre.
"One of the little lions, I suppose?"
"He's a lion, alright," quipped Poppy, as she reached the curtains surrounding Harry's bed. "As for little….from what I've been told, you should know as well as any other witch."
McGonagall's arched eyebrow crept even higher towards her hairline when the nurse pulled back the curtains and revealed a half-naked Harry, with Hannah and Hermione standing by his bedside.
"Godric's gonads, Potter!" Minerva exclaimed. "What did you do to your….where did they…"
The Headmistress's eyes darted from Harry's pelvis to Hermione's eyes.
"Don't tell me that he splinched himself last night!"
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No…no splinching."
"Then what happened to his…."
While Minerva was struggling to complete her sentence with an appropriate term, Harry rolled his eyes and pulled the sheet back over his body.
"I'm all there," he stated, waving down towards his waist. "As you can now clearly see…well, maybe not see, but infer."
"You've magically hidden your…you assets?"
Harry shook his head. "A bit of charm work performed to hide knowledge of what those assets look like."
"I don't understand."
"Think about my performance last night," Harry said with a smirk. "What do you see in your mind's eye when I banished my shorts towards Susan?"
"You think it strange that your memory matches what you just saw?"
"No, it's strange that the crowd reacted the way it did, given how little you showed them."
Harry nodded. "Guess the wording worked after all."
"Perhaps this can be discussed later?" asked Madame Pomfrey. "Mr. Potter, if you would be so kind as to extract your memory of the incident? The Headmistress and I will enter the memory to look for any signs of a cast curse."
"Somebody cursed Mr. Potter's penis?" McGonagall asked plainly.
"It would appear so," Poppy replied.
Hermione realized something at that moment, and turned towards her best friend.
"Erm, Harry….if she's going into the memory, she's going to have to be able to see all of the memory."
Harry cringed. "Poppy?"
The Nurse nodded. "A medical necessity, I'm afraid."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine…Hannah, if you would?"
The Healer Apprentice handed Minerva the handwritten note. The Headmistress read the message and frowned.
"Most irregular," she stated. She then turned to Harry. "And an interesting choice of secret keepers."
"Wasn't my idea," Harry said, pointing towards Hermione.
This really confused the Headmistress. "Miss Granger?"
"The spell caster can't also be the secret keeper, and Harry was howling in pain at the time, so….."
"I see," Minerva replied.
"Let me guess," Harry then snarked. "You'll need to see if the message worked before you hop into the pensieve?"
McGonagall snorted. "No need to wave your bits in front of me again, Mr. Potter…I'll know soon enough once I'm inside the memory."
"Fabulous," Harry replied. "Anybody else you think should review the memory?"
"Well," Madame Pomfrey considered. "The DADA professor would be an obvious choice, but since he's also the patient…."
"Why couldn't I?" Harry asked.
"Because I don't care to treat any recurrence while we're in the pensieve," she explaind.
"But….you think that I'd get a stiffie looking at a memory of my naked self?"
"No," Hermione interjected. "But you might get a rise out of what I was doing, or what Susan was doing…not that you'd be able to notice."
Harry started to consider Hermione's response, then jumped when she cuffed the side of his head.
"Get your mind away from there," she ordered. "Don't want to start bleeding again, do you?"
Harry sighed. "Alright."
Poppy then stated, "I think it best if the Headmistress and I take the first plunge alone…should we need assistance, we can always review the memory with someone like Auror Tonks."
McGonagall nodded. "Or Professor Vector, or Sprout, or…"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure, why not invite the entire Hogwarts staff?"
Minerva gave Harry a sly smile. "Would you like Hagrid, or Horace, or Filius to review last night's show, Mr. Potter?"
Harry responded by shutting his eyes tightly and rubbing the closed lids.
"So how far in do you want me to go, Poppy?"
"How far into the memory, Poppy," Harry replied. "What did you think I was asking."
"Never you mind," the nurse blustered..
Hermione then said. "It should be up to you, Harry…you were the star of the show."
Harry winked. "Not from my perspective, sweetheart," he stated, thinking back to her flashed knickers.
The memory triggered a physiological response that was counterproductive to his recovery.
"Eeeeyyy-ahhhh!" he yelled, reaching for his crotch.
"Oh, dear," Poppy sighed, quickly pulling her wand. "Healer Abbott, you banish the blood while I try and close the reopened lacerations."
"Do you see a pattern emerging here, Mr. Potter?" Poppy asked.
"All too well," Harry grimaced.
"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Minerva asked.
"Harry's bits start to bleed whenever he gets hard," Hermione explained. She then turned towards the patient. "Dare I ask what set you off?"
"Maybe later," Harry said with a wince. "When I can risk thinking about a response without fear of bleeding out."
"Strangest thing I've seen in a while," Poppy stated. She then looked at Hermione and said, "Perhaps it would be safer if you were to focus on the memory to be extracted, dear?"
"Yes, I imagine it would," Hermione replied quietly, her eyes showing concern as she locked onto Harry's. She then closed her eyes, and focused her thoughts. A few beats later, she placed the tip of her wand against her temple and pulled a long string of smoke out. Once the string cleared her hairline, Hermione opened her eyes and guided the memory into the bowl of the pensieve.
"That looked rather long," Harry said.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Better to give more of a memory than less."
"Stay close to your patient in our absence, Healer Apprentice," Poppy told Hannah.
There was a period of silence once the Headmistress and Nurse disappeared into the pensive. While Hannah updated her notes, Hermione thought about possible curses, and Harry tried not to think of anything that would cause a stiffie. Finally, Hermione broke the quiet.
"We should start eliminating variables."
"What?" Harry asked.
"We need isolate the area of effect."
"That's easy enough," Harry stated, as he protectively pulled his knees up to his chest."
"Not like that Harry," she admonished. "We need to work on cause and effect."
"What's to work on?" Harry asked. "I think of you, I get hard, I start to bleed."
"Now, if that's not an expression true love, what is?" smirked Hannah.
"Oh shush," she replied. "Harry, you laid out the situation quite nicely. The cuts are the effect, but is your erection the triggering mechanism, or the randy thoughts that caused the erection?"
She then turned to Hannah. "Could you cast a partial paralysis spell to immobilize Harry from the waist down?"
Hannah thought for a moment. "I think that would be okay," she decided.
"Do I get to weigh in?"
"Harry," Hermione said impatiently. "If you can't trust your healer or your girlfriend, whom can you trust?"
"Hermione…do you really think of yourself as my girlfriend?"
"Erm…Harry, don't…stop thinking about that…about me…"
"Hannah?" Hermione asked.
The healer nodded and cast the paralysis spell.
"I said, why not?" Harry stated.
"I know you did, Harry," Hermione said, reaching down to touch his cheek with the back of her hand. "It's just that I didn't want to see you bleed again."
"Why…why would the idea of you being my girlfriend be bad?"
"Spit it out, Hermione."
"Okay," Hermione said, as she closed her eyes. "It's just that when I think about you possibly being my boyfriend, that gets me thinking about certain things I'd like to do with you, and certain positions that I'd like to try, and…."
Hermione opened her eyes, and let out a low-pitched moan, as she pinched one of her already hardened, dress-covered nipples. "Can you see what those thoughts do to me, Harry?"
"Oh, yeah," he growled.
Hermione licked her lips. "And once I do what I just did, I get even more excited, and can't help but…."
As Hermione started to drop a hand up underneath her dress, Harry nodded towards Hannah and asked, "Hermione…shouldn't you be telling me this somewhere more…private?"
Hermione smiled, and shook her head as she took a few steps back and scooted up onto the side of the adjacent bed.
"Why not here, Harry?" she purred, tracing a finger up and down her bared thigh. "We're all friends here, right?"
Hannah snorted. "That's right," she replied.
"See, Harry?" Hermione continued. "So tell me…what are you thinking about right now?"
Harry sighed and shook his head. "I'm thinking about replacing your finger with my tongue."
Hermione smiled. "Oh, Harry, are you really thinking those kinds of dirty thoughts?"
"Oh, yessssss…" he hissed.
This answer sparked a dramatic change in Hermione's mood. She opened her eyes, smiled brightly, and hopped off of the bed.
"Taking notes, then, Hannah?"
The Healer Apprentice nodded. "I certainly am, you clever little minx."
Harry scowled. "What did I just miss?"
"The removal of a variable," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "I subjected you to a combination of visual and verbal stimuli designed to be sexually arousing."
"And did a bang-up job of it, from my perspective," Hannah quipped.
"Why Hannah," Hermione said with a grin. "Were my stimuli affecting you as well as your patient?"
"No comment, you wench," Hannah joked.
Harry shook his head at the word play. "So you teased me something fierce, and I reacted."
"But only partially," Hermione replied. "Your mind was on overdrive, but your bits didn't bleed."
"Well, duh…how could they with that paralysis spell?"
"Thereby supporting my conclusion," Hermione stated.
Harry chewed on his lips. "So I can think about things that get me stiff, and I'll be okay just as long as I don't actually get stiff?"
"I think so," Hermione replied. "Of course, the only way to test that hypothesis would be for you to get an erection without being sexually aroused."
"And how would I do that?" Harry asked.
"Direct prostate massage?" Hannah suggested.
Hermione turned to the healer. "And you call me a minx," she quipped. "Is there a spell for that?"
Hannah shook her head. "Yeah, I wish….I'd have to use my finger."
"Oh, and it would be a big sacrifice for you to have to do that to the Boy-You-Crushed-On?" Hermione said with a smirk.
"Quiet, you!" Hannah hissed.
"Do what?" Harry demanded.
The Headmistress and Hogwarts Nurse pulled out of the memory before Hermione had opportunity to provide a proctologic explanation.
"See anything?" Hermione asked.
Poppy nodded her head. "It appears that both of you were struck by a curse just the moment before you apparated," the Headmistress stated.
"I was cursed, too?" the young witch asked.
"I'm afraid so," Poppy stated. "You both cast off a brief dull orange glow."
"But I'm not suffering from any symptoms," Hermione complained.
The Hogwarts nurse nodded. "Maybe that's because you haven't been aroused like Mr. Potter has?"
Hermione blushed brightly as she admitted she had been sexually aroused more than once that morning.
"Well, then," McGonagall said with a smile. "That lends support to the alternative hypothesis."
"What's the alternative?" Harry asked.
"That Miss Granger is part of the curse trigger."
This caused Hermione to scowl. "Oh, that would be something that a vindictive witch might do, wouldn't it?"
"What?" Harry asked.
"Cast a curse that hurts you whenever you are physically excited by…well, me…rather than some other witch."
Harry took a larger than normal bite down onto his lip as he tried to digest that tidbit of information.
"So…it could be that those cuts wouldn't form every time I got hard, but only when I got hard thinking about or watching you?"
"Vindictive, indeed," Hannah stated.
Harry then asked an even more difficult follow-up question. "So…how do you propose we eliminate that variable?"
Hermione frowned. "That's obvious, isn't it?" she stated.
"But what if….what if I don't want to think about another witch that way?" Harry asked.
Hermione's eyes, which had be focusing on the infirmary floor, shot up in response.
"Oh, Harry…do you really mean that?"
The Boy-Who-Lived crawled out onto a very long limb.
Hermione leapt at Harry's admission and buried him in a horizontal bear hug.
"Hermione!" the Headmistress shouted. "Get off of Mr. Potter right now!"
The young witch chose to ignore her former Head of House in favor of planting kisses all over Harry's face.
"Let me try," Hannah stated to the other witches. She leaned over and whispered into Hermione's ear.
"He knows you love him, Hermione, but if you keep snogging, he's going to bleed again."
Hermione yelped and jumped back away from Harry's embrace as quickly as possible. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…."
"It's okay," he replied. "I'm glad that you're happy that I said it."
"I'm more than happy, buster," she stated, "I'm ecstatic, I'm excited, I'm….."
She abandoned a fuller description in the interest of not giving her boyfriend ideas that might hurt.
"Listen, Harry," she said. "After hearing you say that, I don't have any problems with you forcing yourself to think of another witch that way…just to be able to find a cure that will….."
"Yes, yes….please, Hermione, stop saying anything more," Poppy quipped.
"But how…..who?" Harry asked. "It's not the sort of thing you want to ask someone, is it…'Excuse me, miss, but will you help cure a medical condition by sexually arousing me'?"
"It doesn't have to be a live witch, does it?" Hermione asked. "It could be a memory, or some…reading material?"
"Reading material?" Harry asked with a wry smile. "Anything specific that you'd care to lend me from your bedside table?"
"Stop, Harry, or you'll regret it," McGonagall said. "Miss Granger, perhaps it's for the best if you remove your…temptations…from Harry's sight for a short while?"
A conflicted look came over Hermione's face, until she found a way to combine her elation over Harry's expressed feelings with a tried-and-true type of pleasure. She nodded, and said, "I'll be in the library, doing some research on possible curses."
"Sounds good, Miss Granger," Minerva replied.
"I'd give you a kiss good-bye, Harry, but….."
Harry teased his new girlfriend by covering his ears and shutting his eyes.
"La, La, La…I can't hear Hermione talk dirty to me…La, La, La….."
"Prat!" Hermione replied, as she walked out the Infirmary's doors.
Harry opened his eyes upon hearing the door slam, and turned towards McGonagall.
"I assume that you had something specific in mind?"
"Yes, I do," she replied. "Tilly?"
One of the Hogwarts house-elves popped into the Infirmary in response to the call.
"There is a rather large stash of pornography in my office. Please bring it to me."
The house-elf nodded. "Would the Headmistress be wanting from the confiscation closet, or from the Headmistress's personal collection?"
Minerva's eyes narrowed. "From the closet, thank you," she said in a very clipped tone.
At the sound of snorting, she turned towards Harry.
"Not one word, Mr. Potter."
"That's two words right there, Mr. Potter."
Harry finished by silently buttoning his grinning lips.
The house elf returned quickly, levitating a large pile of wizard porn magazines.
"Place them on the bed, please."
"Yes, Headmistress," the house elf replied.
"I trust you know what to do from here, Mr. Potter."
Harry responded with a mirthful smile and a nod of his head.
"Come ladies," Poppy stated. "Let's give Mr. Potter a bit of privacy."
"Like that's mattered to any of you so far this morning," Harry said with a roguish grin.
"Shush!" Poppy admonished, before disappearing outside of the curtains.
Minerva, Poppy and Hannah withdrew a respectful distance, staying within the ward in case aid became necessary.
After a five-minute wait, McGonagall displayed her growing impatience.
"How are things coming, Mr. Potter?"
"Why Minerva, that's an interesting word choice, isn't it?"
"Hush, you scamp!"
"Do you need more of a…variety…of wizarding pictures?" asked Poppy.
"Pictures?" asked Harry from behind the curtain. "I'll have you know that I only subscribe to Playwizard for the articles. In fact, I'm reading a very interesting one right now…."
"Don't try our patience, Mr. Potter," scolded Minerva.
"Oh…..Headmistress, I love it when you get all stern and authoritarian with me," Harry quipped. "Keep it up, and I won't need any of these pictures to get it up."
McGonagall started to stride towards Harry's bed. "Why…."
Poppy laughed as she grabbed her friend by the arm. "Relax, Minerva…he's just getting your goat. Rather successfully, I might add."
The Headmistress shook her head in consternation as a hearty laugh came from Harry's bed.
After thirty more seconds of silence, Harry said, "And we have…lift-off."
"Lift-off, Mr. Potter?"
"Oops, sorry…muggle reference," Harry replied. "Okay, so I got hard watching a porn picture, despite my intentions towards Hermione."
The Hogwarts Nurse approached the curtain. "Are you experiencing any pain, or bleeding?"
"Not that I can see or feel," Harry replied. "So now what?"
"Now what, indeed?" asked the Headmistress.
"You know," Hannah stated, quietly enough for only the other witches to hear, "to truly make it an apples-to-apples comparison, we'd need Harry to look at naked pictures of Hermione."
McGonagall snorted. "Yes, dear…we'll let you be the one to make that suggestion to Miss Granger."
"Don't be so sure that she'd refuse to consider it," Hannah said with a grin "But maybe I have a quicker way to test out the idea."
The Healer Apprentice approached the drawn curtains that surrounded Harry's bed.
"Would you describe for us the particular picture that did the trick?"
"The particular…is there any medical relevance to that question?"
"Yes, I think that there actually is."
"Okay, but don't blame me if anyone's tender ears are hurt," Harry called back. "So, there's these two witches, and they've gotten really friendly in the shower that they're sharing, and…."
"Stop right there, Harry," Hannah instructed. "Do these two witches remind you of anyone in particular?"
"Not really," Harry replied. "I mean, there's broad similarities, of course, but…."
"Are you still aroused, Harry?"
"Good," Hannah replied. "Look at that picture of the two witches in the shower, and imagine that it's Hermione and me in there instead."
"But they've got their tongues in each other's…"
"Doesn't matter, Harry…think what it'd be like to walk into a bathroom and spy Hermione and me with our tongues in exactly the same places."
There was a pregnant pause, and then a scream.
Hannah immediately yanked away the curtains and began hurling healing spells towards Harry's bloodied crotch.
"I'm sorry, Harry…I'm so sorry, but we had to know…."
"Evil, you are," Harry hissed, once the cuts were healed and the pain started to ebb. "Pure evil."
"And be thankful that she was," stated Madame Pomfrey, as she stepped forward to augment the healing magic in play. "You more than anyone, Mr. Potter, should know that effective healing treatments aren't always pleasant."
"But….what kind of healing was that?"
"A diagnostic type," Poppy replied. "Healer Abbott just confirmed that we're dealing with a curse that is keyed into your sexual feelings towards Miss Granger."
Harry closed his eyes, and shook his head in disbelief.
"It was still very evil."
"Yes, Harry, it was," Hannah admitted.
"So," Harry said haltingly. "How can you be sure that you aren't a trigger as well, Hannah? After all, you were doing some very naughty things in that shower."
"I'm sure that I was," Hannah replied with a pat of his shoulder. "But I wasn't the one that was lit up by a curse spell whilst holding your willie, was I?"
Harry sighed, and tweaked the bridge of his nose rather than tease the witch by asking if she wished that were the case.