To a depository of sexual magic

“Come on!” Hermione led the way. As they advanced, magenta flames sprung to life in alcoves in the walls, producing a dim light to guide their way. The corridor took them around several sharp corners, and even down a cramped spiral staircase. Several times they had to stop and make out, but finally they came to another stone door. This one melted into the ground before them, revealing a curious octagonal room.

The room’s size and shape, plus two small windows, seemed to indicate they were in one of the towers – though that was spatially impossible, from Harry’s knowledge of the school. The walls were lined with bookcases filled with dusty tomes, glass cabinets filled with all manner of ingredients, and cupboards presumably containing equipment. However, what immediately drew Harry’s eye was the king-sized four-poster bed in the middle, which appeared to have been freshly made.

“Ooh, new visitors!”

Harry looked up, surprised, to see a painting peering at them from the opposite side of the room. The first thing he noticed was that she was stark naked and fully exposed, and he ogled her in awe. She was a stunning woman, in her early twenties at a guess. Maybe part veela. Locks of gorgeous gold hair framed a flawless, symmetric face, and startling blue eyes. Whenever she moved, it seemed to be merely a transition between one erotic pose and the next, showing off her incandescent form. Beneath large, perky breasts, her abdomen curved down to a trim, muscular stomach, before flaring out to shapely hips, and a round, soft butt. Her pink pussy was bare and dripping.

“Oh,” snickered the woman. “I see you two have had a little Eros.”

“Who are you?” asked Harry. Maybe it was just the painting, but something about this room turned him on. He wasn’t even a little conscious of his nudity in front of the portrait. “What is this place?”

The blonde transitioned to a different erotic pose, pushing out her chest as she ran her hand over her scalp. “I’m Heather Ophelia Goodheart – or a memory of her. The HOG in Hogwarts.”

“The founders named the school after your… warts?” puzzled Harry.

“Goodness, no,” laughed Heather. Her voice was more beautiful, more musical, than even the mermaids’ underwater. “This institution is the Wizarding Appreciation and Re-education Trust School dedicated to me! Thus, the acronym HOGWARTS. Or at least, that’s how it started.”

Hermione was shaking her head, chortling with amusement. “No, that’s totally wrong. Hogwarts: A History clearly states the school was named after –”

“My dear, just look at me.” Hermione eyed Heather’s curves jealously. “Is it that hard to believe?”

“Did you fuck them?” asked Harry.

“The Founders?” Heather sighed nostalgically, squeezing one of her tits. “Every one of them. You two must be Gryffindors – Godric was always the most passionate. Herbert always tried the hardest, which more than made up for his other… shortcomings. Rowena was feisty, and very, very good at whatever she wanted to do. And Salazar… though somewhat intent on his own satisfaction, he was rather well-endowed. But enough about me – who are you, stud? And who’s the hot babe?”

Harry couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from Heather’s body. “I’m Harry, and this is Hermione.”

“Oh marvellous – three H’s!”

“So, this is a room dedicated to sex, right?” pressed Hermione, wrapping her arm around Harry possessively. “What’s so special about it?”

“Oh, not much,” smiled Heather, one hand sliding down her body to find her clit. “But there are layers upon layers of ancient spells imbued upon every part of this room. Only by accessing sexual magic – through lovemaking, as you have done – can a visitor gain access to the knowledge stored in this room.”

Harry looked up from kissing Hermione’s neck. “Knowledge of sexual magic?”

“Precisely.” Heather’s voice caught, as she found a particularly good spot on her button, before she continued. “The basics of sexual magic essentially boil down to this: the stronger your arousal whilst spell-casting, the stronger your spell.” Harry thought back to how his simple ‘alohamora’ had easily bypassed the charms of his (usually) more powerful teachers. “The unique study of sexual magic is therefore dedicated to increasing your pleasure with your partner, and to make the impossible possible.”

Harry turned to look his friend-turned-lover in the eye. “Hermione, I appreciate you bringing me here, but I love you. You’re perfect as you are! We don’t need this.”

Hermione kissed him affectionately. “Of course we don’t need it. But I want to give you more, Harry. Much more! We deserve so much more than the usual sex charms can give us!”

Harry gazed into the witch’s adoring brown eyes, and relented. “I want to give you more, Hermione. I want to make you know I love you more than I could ever say.”

“Aww,” cooed Heather. “You two are so cute together! The bookshelf on your right covers spells, and potion books are on the left. There are ingredients in the cabinets, though I think there might be a few ready-made potions that people have left behind in the cupboard under my portrait.”