Soon

Harry watched attentively through half-closed eyes as Hermione unbuttoned her khaki pants. She watched as Hermione’s pants slid over her hips, pulling her panties down a few inches, exposing a thatch of chestnut brown pubic hair. She watched as Hermione casually slid the panties back higher up on her hips.

Harry pulled off her own pants quickly, noticing that Ginny was watching her. Harry lay on her stomach, eyes half closed but tilted directly at the rise and fall of the other girls’s tits.

“Sarry, would you like me to continue with the lotion? The backs of your legs are positively alabaster.” Moments later, she felt Hermione’s wet fingers slide up and down the back of her legs.

Arry was wet, hot and bothered, and she hoped the other girls didn’t notice. Except that she did of course hope the girls noticed.

She heard Ginny clear her throat. “Uhm, Sarry, I hope this isn’t too personal, but your panties are thin, and I noticed that you’re totally shaved.”

“Yeah, I did it on a lark, and it just feels good.” She felt Hermione‘s fingers slide up and down between her legs, up her thighs, and then back down to her calves. Oh, God, she thought. Don’t stop.

“I’m just wondering because I‘ve thought about giving it a try.”

“Then I guess you should do it. It’ll grow back if you don’t like it.”

“I always hesitated because of Harry.”

“Because of Harry?” What did I have to do with that? “What did he have to do with that?”

“Well he always said I didn’t need to shave.”

“That seems hard to believe.” Impossible to believe, actually. They’d never had that conversation. They’d never talked about sex at all. He’d touched her pussy exactly one time, and that was from the back, and pubic hair had never been a topic of conversation.

“I asked him several times if he thought I should shave and he always shrugged and said “no reason to.”

Harry wracked his brains. _Oh. “_I think he might have meant that you didn’t need to shave your legs. Were you completely explicit about what you wanted to shave?”

“Hate to interrupt,” Hermione began, “but Ginny’s deluded if she thinks Harry has any interest in her little slit, shaved or unshaved. She’d be alone with Harry and bring up all sorts of sexual topics to get Harry on track, without much success. They’d be at the barn, and she’d point out that the cows get their nipples squeezed every day, and Harry would just turn red and stutter. Or they’d see two dogs humping in a field, and Ginny would say something about how a girl’s got needs or wonder aloud about how long dogs would need to date before they agreed that fucking would be a lovely way to spend an afternoon. And Harry would give off his silly grin like he was a 9 year old. So, yeah, when G discussed shaving, I agree, the boy was probably thinking that you didn’t need to shave your damn legs, which you obviously shouldn’t. Your leg hair is so light that it’s invisible. To even talk about it, well, you’re such a cunt.“

“Hermione,” Ginny interrupted, “you know I don’t like it when you curse. It makes you sound like such a twat.” They laughed.

“Hermione has a theory that Harry’s gay. It all boils down to his barely doing anything sexual with me, and I’d have fucked him at Christmas supper in the Great Hall with Dumbledore watching.”

“Exactly!” Hermione interrupted. “The one time I tried to fuck him, he acted completely thick.”

_When had Hermione ever expressed the slightest interest? This was going very badly. “Uhm, I thought he’d been dating Ginny For a long time. Why would he think you’d want to date him?”

“I wasn’t interested in dating per se, if you catch my drift. We were on our big epic saga This past year. G and Harry were on a break from dating, and Ron had abandoned me, and I was feeling sexually ravenous. I decided it was ethically acceptable, and even preferable if it sharpened our senses and improved the likelihood that our mission would have success.”

“I’ve heard this ethics discussion at some length,” Ginny interrupted. “I’ve put it behind me, but she’s going to have to ply me with some immorality juice before I think it was some sort of virtuous effort.”

“What did you do?” Harry asked, completely fuzzy about what she was talking about. She didn’t recall any sexual tension on their trip, except some weirdness between her and Ron.

“After Ron left, I realized I might be spending the rest of my life, however short, in a tent with another 18 year old. We had nothing much to do, little in the way of entertainment aside from listening to the radio waiting for news about friends who’d died because we were loose, and we loved each other. Plus, he was 18 and likely on erection auto pilot. Anyway, I couldn’t get him to notice me, even after I started walking around half naked.

“That’s the thing about Hermione,” said Ginny. “She’s my favorite nerd slut. She’s wide open about how she’d fuck my boyfriend, and cheat on my brother, and think I’d be fine about it.”

“You are fine about it, love, which makes you special.”

“Special, as in weirdly masochistic or something.”

“Special as in knowing that all sorts of bad guys had complete hard-ons at the possibility of torturing us to ****, and the odds of us getting to safety were low, and really, if we’d ever gotten it on, it would have cemented our polyamorous intensity.”

“Chica, I don’t think it’s polyamory unless there’s some sort of broad agreement among the participants. From what you’ve told me, the weeks in the tent was one long descent into your failed sluttishness and Harry’s ascent into either sainthood or homosexuality.”

Sheesh, thought Sarry/Harry, girls sure talk a lot of shit. I thought they liked me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione answered casually, as if this was familiar and non-controversial ground. “We were focused warriors.”

“So, Warrior Princess, when you were walking around braless, jiggling in a tshirt or with a button down shirt completely unbuttoned, or snuggling into a cot with him at night, saying you were cold, while wearing only a wife beater and panties, you were being a warrior?”

“That would be the polyamorous part.”

“That would polyamorous, spelled S-L-U-T.”

“Ginny, you’re mean.”

“Says the girl who happily reported to me every time she got laid. And, every time she told me she’d say the same thing: ‘Mmmm, you’ll be happy to know I just got myself some big Weasley dick.’ Lovely, Hermione. Very graphic and thoughtful, though I should say that if we were in a crowd, she’d sometimes whisper ‘some’ or ‘some big.’ Just what the youngest Weasley wants to hear. I nearly tried to pull strings so she could go live with her kicked out of Gryffindor and live with all the sluts in Hufflemuff.

What, Ron and Hermione had been fucking? Nobody had told him!

“I’m a little confused,” Harry began, starting to feel attacked and irritated, “if both of you we’re waiting for Harry to make a move, why didn’t you just make it really clear or just grab him? It does seem like you were being a little thick yourselves.”

“Well,” said Hermione, “both of us talk a big game, but deep down, we’re both a bit submissive, so the guy has to be led into making the first move. It’s complicated. Don’t tell anyone, but when push comes to shove, and if there’s attraction, I think neither of us would ever say no.”

Again, this seemed like familiar territory, and Ginny just shrugged. “Not that I’d really know—I mostly let no one near. Dean was always this perfect gentleman, and with a Harry, I’d routinely fail or get a quick kiss, as if he were scared to get caught, while Hermione gave me this graphic picture so that I got to imagine Ron getting all red in the face, huffing and puffing, while he ploughed her into the bed springs. Nice, Ms. Innocent.”

“Well,” sniffed Hermione, “I am innocent, in a way, just not the completely pure sort of innocent. Anyway, I love Harry, but the boy doesn’t like girls,” Hermione began. “It wasn’t just the two of us. Harry could have fucked any student or teacher on campus, boy or girl, so maybe he’s asexual. I once overheard the owner of The Three Broomsticks say that he had a standing reward of 10 quid to any Barmaid who blew the Harry, double for a fuck. They’d do whatever they could, give him an eyeful every time they bent to give him a dinner plate, press themselves against him in a crowd, but he never looked up from his butter beer. Truly, the prettiest prostitute on Diagon Alley would have done him for free, no question, and with a big smile. I love Harry to ****, but I tell you, the next time we see him, I bet he’ll sheepishly tell us of some sexual adventures that completely changed his point of view, and now he’s a changed man.

Harry/Sarry smiled, momentarily, at the thought that she was indeed a changed man, but then settled into feeling misunderstood. So, as Harry, he was gay because he respected Ginny’s hesitation? Because he hadn’t hit on his best friend’s girlfriend? Because he hadn’t taken advantage of his celebrity by fucking strangers, and whores? And Ron had been shagging Hermione for 2 years? What? The 2 boys had been blowing each other for almost as long, but that was out of blue balls and the fine English boarding school tradition of schoolboy pederasty. Harry’s mind clogged. Oh... hmmm. He and Ron had sort of agreed not to fuck their girlfriends until they both were going to do it, so maybe Ron had been trying to cock block him from his sister. Sheesh.

“This is a lot of information,” Harry began. The stories about himself made her mad, and when she got mad, she got sexual.

Harry sat up and looked over at Ginny. “Let me take a look, and I’ll give you my opinion.”

“Opinion on whether Harry’s gay?”

“No, I’d like to render an opinion on your pubic hair.”