The Sweat of a Gladiator

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc. etc.


Chapter Three

"So let me get this straight, Harry" said Roger Granger. "A wicked old witch wants a bottle of your sweat in exchange for an antidote that needs to be administered to Ron Weasley before lunchtime, or else he dies. But it can't be run-of-the-mill sweat, can it? No sir, it needs to be collected off of your naked body by one virgin female while you are in the middle of shagging another virgin female."

The dentist rose from his chair and started to pace back and forth behind his desk like a caged lion.

"Now does it have to be any specific virgin female?" he asked rhetorically. "Apparently not, and despite the fact that you have a fan club of teen-aged witches, any number of whom would jump at the chance to jump your bones, it's my daughter's virginity that you want to claim. And you come to me not to ask for my daughter's hand, or to court her, or even to ask if you can shag her, but to ask for my permission for the two of you to engage in safe sex. And if I refuse to sign the permission slip, the two of you will still shag in order to save your friend's life. The only difference will be that nine months from now, Hermione and you will become the parents of twin baby witches, because diagnostic spells show that she's at the peak of her fertility and you've got Olympic-caliber swimmers in your spunk."

He caught his breath before asking, "Have I left anything out?"

The young wizard looked down at the floor and nervously ran his hand through his unruly hair.

"Just the fact that while this appears to be the only way we can save Ron's life, that Headmistress McGonagall and St. Mungo's are still trying to find an alternative source that wouldn't require Hermione and me to go through with this."

Roger Granger snorted in disbelief. "Require you and Hermione to go through with this?" he asked incredulously. "You sound implausibly reluctant…I should think that you'd be planning some correspondence…something like Dear Penthouse Forum, I'm a seventeen-year-old wizard and you'll never believe what happened to me the day my best mate decided to tumble into a pool of poison'…."

The dentist's comments immediately transformed Harry's nervousness into righteous anger. Bristling with indignation, he snapped right back.

"I, for one, don't think it's something to joke about, sir. The fact is that I am incredibly reluctant to have to go down this path and take something so precious from your daughter, even when it's offered freely! And I would have hoped that after all of the Sunday dinners this past summer that you would thought better of me."

The deep breath that Hermione's father had been holding during Harry's reply came out on its own accord, and took with it much of the machismo that had been building during his paternal-protective adrenaline rush. Roger slumped back down into his chair and poured himself another scotch.

"I'm sorry, Harry, you're absolutely right," he sighed. "It's just that Hermione's my little girl, and….well, I guess you have to be a father to understand the protective…"

A knock interrupted Roger's rationalization, and Hermione's mother popped her head in the door. "Roger, dear," she asked, "could we borrow Harry for a few minutes?"

Roger pouted. "But I've barely started to scare the bejesus out of him!"

"Yes dear," she replied. "I know dear. It will just be a few minutes, though."

Harry liked the sound of getting out from in front of Hermione's father, but was worried that Roger still didn't believe his story. But then he got a very bright idea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pensieve and controller, shrunk and kept with him for just this sort of purpose. "Maybe it would be easier to accept if you could see what happened?"

Roger nodded, having been introduced to the workings of a pensieve earlier that summer, when Harry used it to show him a few Quidditch matches. Harry tapped his wand on the two items, bringing them up to full size, then concentrated on the specific memory to extract. While he was pulling out the wisp from his temple, Roger picked up the controller. "What's this?" he asked.

Once the memory was safely swimming in the pensieve, Harry looked up and smiled. "It's a production prototype for a pensieve remote control."

Roger looked down at the stone version of a muggle remote control and smiled. While there were several unreadable runes carved into different buttons, the international symbols for "play," "fast forward" and "rewind" were also inscribed. "So with this thing I can control the memory?"

Harry nodded as he tapped the edge of the pensieve with his wand. Since muggles like the Grangers couldn't dive into the memory, he cast the spell that created a three-dimensional projection directly above the pensive.

"It was Hermione's idea, and her charms work. We have one of my wizard manufacturing companies gearing up to mass produce them. Should have them on the market by Christmas."

"And she did this even while she was helping you with your research project?"

Harry shrugged. "Smartest witch in her generation," he said, with no small bit of pride. "And soon to be one of the wealthier ones as well, if the goblin's sales projections are accurate."

The pensieve's projection was frozen on a view of the Hogwart's infirmary, just before Harry and Hermione had learned that Slughorn had identified the poison. Harry pointed out who everyone one, and noted that once the scene shifted that the only new characters were the Headmistress and the hag. Mr. Granger hit the "play" button and the scene started to play out (complete with Ron's convulsions.) He then hit the rewind button and was delighted to see the three-dimensional mini-Harry and mini-Hermione walk backwards out of the infirmary door.

Emily saw her chance and grabbed Harry's elbow. Ushering her out of her husband's office she said, "Give the man a remote control…." Once the office door closed she showed him to her office, where they found Hermione sitting behind her mum's desk, writing at a furious pace.

"Harry," Hermione said warmly, once her mum had left to watch the pensieved memory. "Take care of the door, would you?" After shutting the door, Harry cast silencing and locking charms to ensure their privacy.

"How's dad taking it?"

"About as well as could be expected, I imagine," Harry replied. "Have to say that your mum looked a bit warmer to the idea."

"Yes, well she always was the pragmatic one in the family," Hermione said with a smile. "Didn't take long at all for her to offer up some good suggestions."

"Really," asked Harry curiously. "Like what?"

Hermione looked up at Harry and laid the pen down on the desk. "Well, for starters she pointed out the obvious…that despite how awkward the situation is, that Ron's life is on the line and that there's no time for embarrassment or worrying about acting out of character, or dancing around issues. Later, no doubt…but not right now."

"Makes sense to me," Harry said.

"Well that's good," Hermione said, "because I need you to wank off."

Harry choked out a "What?"

Hermione looked up from the notepad.

"Harry," Hermione said with a bit of exasperation, "we need to focus here…would it be any easier if I used clinical terms and asked you masturbate to completion?"

Harry did his "fish out of water" thing with his mouth, and then replied. "Erm, let's stay clinical…I don't think I could handle you talking dirty right now."

"Great." Hermione replied. "Mum said that you could surf for porn on her computer, if that would help speed things along." She then stood up and walked around to the front of the desk. "Mum also thought you could do it while she and I were off to the chemists, but I think you should do it right now, before we go."

"Right now…you want me to wank off, right now….with you in the room?" Harry asked with amazement. "And why do you think that would be better?"

Hermione patted his shoulder, then reached down and flipped the hem of t-shirt up and over her head, revealing a pretty red lace bra. "Well, first off," she said matter-of-factly, "I'm not so sure about your internet search skills, and there's no need for you to flounder about in a titty-search on Google when the real thing is available."

With that comment she slipped her bra straps off of her shoulders, then deftly reached back and unhooked herself. Lemon-sized breasts spilled from their containers when she leaned forward.

"They're not as large as what you might find on the net," Hermione continued, as she set her bra down on the desktop and pinched her small, but perky nipples. "But Luna said that Ron seems to like it when she kisses herself, so that might compensate." Hermione then grabbed her left breast and tried to make tongue contact with her areola.

Harry choked out a cough. "Hermione! What are you doing! This isn't like you at all!"

"Well of course it isn't," she said, "but Ron's life…remember? No time for embarrassment. And besides, it's not like you wouldn't see them soon enough." She looked up, having failed to put her tongue on the mark, and sighed.

"Damn," she muttered, "either they're too small or my tongue is too short." She looked up and added, "Well, you get the idea, I hope."

"Erm, yeah,…no problem," Harry stammered. "But..why...again?"

"Oh, yes…I'm multi-tasking Harry….boys are supposed to be easily aroused through visual stimulation, right?"

"Erm, yes…but let's back up to why I should be wanking off in your mum's office."

Hermione smiled. "Well, while Dad was raking you over the coals, mum and I were sitting here trying to lay out the sweat collection choreography. Poppy said that even if you were working up a good sweat that it would take at least a minute for Luna to collect enough for the potion, right?"

Harry was too busy staring to realize that Hermione's pause was intended to elicit a response. Not that she minded, exactly.

"So…well…mum echoed my fear that, as virile as you are that you might not last a minute once you're inside me. So she suggested we go on-line for some advice on how you might last longer."

Harry looked up and asked, "You and your mum were talking about how fast I'd cum?"

"Erm, yes Harry…it turns out that there is a lot of on-line resources for premature ejaculation. Almost all of the sites we found recommended masturbation prior to the sex act…to take the edge off, as it were."

"You figure that I suffer from premature ejaculation?".

"It's nothing to be ashamed about," Hermione explained. "Happens to the majority of teen-aged males, according to the experts."

"Oh really," Harry asked. "And how do these experts define premature ejaculation?"

"Well," Hermione said, "the working definition is something like the man reaching orgasm before his partner wants him to."

"Thought so," Harry said. "So how can I be premature if I've never had a partner before?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "You mean that you've never?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Not that it matters for the sweat, I guess, but I'd have had a halo over my head too."

"Oh," Hermione replied, secretly pleased. "Well then…let's say that we were concerned about the potential when you do have a partner."

"Yeah, like within the next hour and a half?" Harry snarked.

Getting the blush on Hermione's face that he'd been looking for, he then asked, "Any worries about how much time it would take me to get hard again?"

Hermione looked down at Harry's crotch and couldn't help but smile. "No, but if that's what you're worried about, then you best get started straight away, right?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "This is so ridiculous," he said, as he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. He then flipped his t-shirt off, recaptured Hermione's gaze, and dared her to break eye contact as he carefully lifted the top of his boxers out and over his erection.

She lasted all of three seconds.

"Oh, my," she exclaimed, as she stared at his crotch. "So, erm…do you want me to give you some privacy, or…"

Harry reached out and dragged a finger along Hermione's jaw line. When she looked up he gently asked, "Would you like to watch?"

Hermione's eyes went wide as she tried to quickly determine an appropriate response. Unfortunately, her tongue jumped the gun and answered for her when it poked out of her mouth and dragged itself slowly along her upper lip.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Harry said smartly. He then placed his hands on Hermione's jean-clad hips, and lifted her onto the front of her mum's desk.

"Erm…would it be easier if you were standing, Harry?" she asked. "Or maybe lying down? I could always transfigure mum's desk into a bed, or whatever you normally use when you…well…"

Harry reached out, placed an index finger on Hermione's lips, and shushed her.

"Standing will work for me," he said softly.

As he started on the assigned task Hermione stammered out another question.

"Would…would you like to watch me, too?"

Harry's eyes danced at the thought, but not wanting to push too fast, replied, "Yeah, actually…I mean…if you wanted to…or if your hands didn't have anything else to do."

Hermione swallowed as she nodded in reply. Harry watched intently as she reached down, unbuttoned her jeans, and slowly lowered the zipper.

A hint of crimson knickers showed when she pushed away the denim fabric.

A hint of well-trimmed pubic hair showed when she dragged a finger along the elastic of those knickers.

Harry couldn't help but moan at the sight. Embarrassed at this lack of control, he muttered, "Oh, erm…sorry, just couldn't…help."

Hermione smiled as she imitated Harry and shushed him by placing her finger on his lips. This, however, was rather counterproductive, as she had used the finger that had just been exploring her knickers. Harry groaned again as he thought about scents and tastes, and tried to resist the temptation of sucking her finger into his mouth. It helped when Hermione suddenly pulled her hand back and reached for her wand.

"Hey, as long you are, well...long…maybe I do have something else to do with my hands." Looking over the desktop Hermione picked up a stapler and asked, "Mind if I practice my transfiguration skills?"

Dazed and confused, Harry asked, "Erm…no, but what for?"

Hermione smiled as she uttered a Latin incantation and waved her wand around the stapler. The office tool shook, then began to melt and morph into a more cylindrical and rounded shape.

"Something else mum and I talked about," Hermione explained. "She wants to make sure that I know how to put a condom on you correctly…so I just thought you might be more comfortable if she watched me work with a copy, rather than the real thing."


"Oh, I'm sorry…forgot to use the clinical terms. I'm transfiguring mum's stapler into a full-scale model of your fully-erect phallus." A thought came to mind, leading her to add, "I guess I should ask…does it get any bigger that that?"


"Your penis, Harry…is it fully erect?"

"How can you ask something like…I mean…what, are you disappointed or something?"

Hermione looked up from her sculpting work with alarm. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, no…not at all, you're more that big enough… I mean, Merlin knows how it's going to fit..."

"Then what is it…this need to have a life-sized replica?"

"Well," Hermione explained. "Always good to practice on similar equipment, isn't it?" she asked. "It also will help at the chemists."

"Why would want to bring a…a…transfigured stapler to the chemists?"

"Condoms come in different sizes, Harry," Hermione patiently explained.

"Wouldn't it have just been easier to ask how long I was?"

She smiled a reply. "Yes, I've heard that boys have this compulsion to know how they measure up….so you know, for certain, whether you'll need regular sized or extra-large condoms?"

"Given the circumstances, couldn't you just buy a variety and well experiment later?"

Hermione shook her head. "Mum thought it'd be best if we were in and out of the chemists as fast as possible, so making sure we have all of our data in hand will help."

"Oh, right….wait a minute…you really were talking about my…length with…wait, stupid question, you already said she gave me permission to porn surf…doesn't she have a ruler?"

"Sorry…we already looked." Hermione replied. She then asked, "Could to turn to the side? I need a landscape view."

Harry shook his head as he turned to his left

"Couldn't have used a banana, could you?" Harry teased, as she did her work.

"No, this is too important to approximate," Hermione replied. "Besides, it gives me a chance to show Mum what I've learned at Hogwarts."

"What, like bringing your art projects home from primary school?"

Hermione gave him a sly smile. "Something like that."

Harry's hands had been busy throughout this conversation, keeping him on edge even as his brain was engaged in conversation. But as the stapler began to appear more and more life like, and as Hermione checked her work for smoothness by stroking her hand up and down the ebony shaft, Harry's mind and hand went on overdrive, and nature (not to mention his ejaculate) took its course.

"Merlin, I'm sorry," Harry exclaimed, as he looked down at the soiled carpet. Her smile was a rather perplexing response.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Harry," she replied. "That was the plan, remember?"

"What…spray all over your mum's office?"

"Nothing a cleaning spell can't take care of."

"Right," Harry said sheepishly. He reached down to grab his wand out of his back pocket (currently located down around his ankles).

"Nice bum," Hermione uttered.

Harry looked up and smiled. "What was that, Hermione?"

"Erm, nothing," she said sheepishly.

"Oh, I suppose you and your mum figured there was a logical need for you to check out my arse?"

Hermione smiled nervously. "Erm, well, not exactly."

"And the compliment wasn't part of part of some other pre-meditated pre-shag preparations?"


Harry stood up and smiled. "Well, good then."

Trying change the topic, Hermione blurted out,

"So what's his name?"


"Your penis…what's your penis's name?"

"Why do you think he'd have one?"

"Well, from what I've heard Lavender and Parvati say, all boys name their penis…something like Harry Jr., or…"

"He doesn't have a name."

"Oh, really?" she asked. When he nodded his affirmation she added, "Well that's too bad…it might be easier to talk about these things if he had a name."

"Well why don't you give him one, then." Harry asked, with a one-off tone of voice.

"Maybe I will," Hermione said with a smile. Then, without telling Harry, she used her wand to push an office chair behind Harry and drag it forward, forcing him to take a seat.

"What was that for?"

"Oh, no reason," Hermione said with a smile. The chair had ended up only a few feet in front of her as she sat on her mum's desk. Taking the opportunity to get more comfortable, she lifted her legs up and rested a foot on each armrest.

It didn't escape Harry's attention that his trousers and boxers were still wrapped around his ankles, and that Hermione was topless with the front of her jeans unfastened. Hard for him not to notice, actually, as he was presently sitting in between her legs.

"So," Hermione said, "We need a back-up virgin in case you do orgasm inside me before Luna finishes her work."

"A back-up virgin?"

Hermione nodded, as if a teacher were admonishing a student. "Harry, we are limited by time, not by virgins. You can't have a do-over with me, and even if Luna steps up to the plate I won't be able to collect the sweat once you get hard again and get inside her…so we need a back-up."

"Oh, well, guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right, Harry," she said sweetly. "Now I'm open to suggestions, although we really should try and limit ourselves to the sixth or seventh-years, if at all possible."

"Makes sense," replied Harry. "Got anyone in mind?"

"Well, what do you think about Mandy Brocklehurst?"

"Seventh-year Hufflepuff? Hmmm…pretty, but I don't think I've ever said three words to her."

"Oh, somebody you know, then," Hermione said. "Hmmm, well we can throw out the obviously unqualified like Lavender, or Parvati."

"Why would Parvati be unqualified?"

"We need virgins, Harry, with a capital V."

"Oh, well I guess I wouldn't know."

"Right….like you boys don't talk about these things…let's see, now, sixth-year Gryphs…no, seventh year Ravenclaws… how about Padma?"

"Don't think so," Harry replied. "She still mad at Ron and me over the Yule Ball fiasco."

"Right then, sixth-year Ravens…you don't know any besides Luna, I guess…and the Puffs…oh, Merlin, why didn't I think of her in the first place?"


"Susan Bones."

"Oh, well yeah, Susan's nice and…"

"And we have a winner," Hermione exclaimed, as she nodded towards Harry's crotch. She looked at the wall clock and said, "Five minutes…hah! I told mum that we wouldn't need to worry about Viagra."

Harry looked down and realized that he was almost fully erect again. For some reason he seemed rather embarrassed by the fact, and he responded by reaching down and pulling up his trousers.

Hermione shook her head and tsk tsk'ed herself, saying "Pigtails and titties…I should have known."

Harry reached over and spun Hermione around to face him. "Should have known what, Hermione?"

"That Susan Bones would be your type…I mean, why not, with a rack like that."

Harry scowled as he stood and put a hand on each of Hermione's naked shoulders.

"Hermione, I think Susan is very nice, but not because of her bodacious ta-ta's."

"Harry, you don't have to worry about hurting my feelings…"

"No, you listen to me, Hermione," Harry said, starting to get angry. "I am quite sure that it was your breasts and the distance between your crotch and my nose that got me hard again, and not the thought of Susan's knockers."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "You're not just humoring me?"

"Argghh…I can't believe we're discussing this…look, Hermione, if I was a tit-man why would I have had any interest in Cho….or Ginny?"

"Hmmm, maybe because Ginny might grow into her mum's?"

"Oh, now there's an erection killer, if I've ever heard one."

That comment broke the tension, and they both laughed quietly as they started to dress.

"So what does get you off, Harry?" Hermione asked off-handedly.

"What if I said bushy brown hair and a tight bum?"

Hermione jerked her head up to look at Harry and said, "You don't have to say that, you know…"

"Even if it's a truthful answer to the question?"

"Yeah, right."

Harry looked closely at Hermione and let out a deep breath. Almost imperceptivity, he reached back for his wand, and with seeker-quick reflexes fired off a body-bind spell that hit Hermione square in the chest. A silencing spell quickly followed, catching her scream before it even tried to get past the silencing charms.

"I'm sorry that you wouldn't believe me otherwise," he explained. He then raised his wand in the air and cast a wizard's oath as Hermione's eyes bulged out.

"On my magic, I swear that I find Hermione Jane Granger so incredibly sexy that she's been the subject of at least three of my wet dreams in the past two months."

A bluish glow of magical energy pulsed outward from Harry's body, strong enough to blow Hermione's bangs away from her face. He waited a few seconds, just to make sure that he'd spoken not just the truth, but a truth that his magic couldn't twist on him, then brought his wand down to release Hermione's binding and her voice.

"Harry!" she shouted, as she ran and pulled him into a bear hug. "That was the stupidest, most idiotic, most lame-brained, courageous, romantic, exhilarating thing you have ever done!" After a few sobs she added, "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

The desk phone interrupted the embrace, and when Hermione looked at the caller id she recognized the mobile number.

"Mum?" she asked after picking up the receiver. "Erm, yeah, we're fine…be right out…bye." She then hung up and told Harry, "That was Mum."

"So I gathered," he replied dryly.

"We should go," said Hermione, as she threw her t-shirt back on and wiped the tears from her cheek. "Need to mind the time." She quickly tidied the office with a spell and retrieved her notepad. As she walked towards the door, Harry reached down and picked up the transfigured stapler. "Hey," he said, as he tossed it towards her, "you left your penis."

Hermione caught it, gave it a look, and smiled. "It's your penis, not mine," she replied with a smile. "Oh, and Harry..."


"His name is Mr. Phoenix."