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Seventh Year Itch
By : mamaleena
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Views: 2433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. - Chapter List
“This is ridiculous,” Harry groaned, shivering in his flimsy denim jacket, glaring at Ron, his best friend bright-eyed and eager as they moved toward the throng of teenagers.
“C’mon Harry,” Ron said, grinning widely, “it’s a tradition.”
Harry raised his eyebrows suspiciously, but Hermione who was skipping along next to him nodded. “He’s right,” she turned to Ron and made a face, “for once. It is a tradition.”
“You have to admit, it’s weird,” Harry whined, shoving his hands in his pockets, his cheeks burning at the prospects of what the trio was about to participate in.
The tradition his two friends were so enthralled with taking part in was the Seventh Year Itch, an underground Hogwarts tradition saying that all Seventh Year virgins were to be given a portkey that would transport them to a different part on England where they then had six hours to lose their virginity.
Harry was particularly nervous about this whole experience. Ron, being the horniest, most sexually repressed person he knew, was of course, extremely eager to do it, all of it, anywhere, anytime.
He didn’t really understand why Hermione was so excited. For the last seventeen years of his life, Harry had been under the impression that girls wanted their first time to be “special.”
“Hermione,” Harry said, squinting up at the sky as they got in line for their tickets, “remember to ask him to use a condom. You to Ron.”
Ron spun around. “A what?”
Hermione nodded and wrote the word Ron’s hand with a pen used to pin up her hair which fell around her shoulders in a curtain, then smiled at Harry. “Anything else?”
Harry stared at her, his beautiful, smart, naive friend, and reached for her shirt, undoing the top three buttons, exposing the tops of her young breasts. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, pulling his hands back, and Ron looked away. Hermione blushed and thanked him, taking the envelope holding her portkey and left the boys to swirl away to another place. Ron was turning suddenly pale, looking at Harry in a pleading way. “I dunno, man,” Harry shrugged, hating how incestuous all this interaction felt, “if I knew how to get girls into bed by now I wouldn’t be here.”
“Anything, please,” Ron whispered, as the line inched up.
“Uh,” Harry thought hard, trying to recall the plot of every sleazy late night movie he‘d ever watched. “Tell the girl you’re, um, a sailor and you ship out tomorrow.”
Ron nodded slowly, absorbing it, taking his portkey. “Yeah, that might work.”
Left alone, Harry shivered again, and took his portkey. He opened the envelope, sliding the smooth surface of what appeared to be a pocket watch over his calloused palm and felt that familiar, no less disturbing tipping feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut, his feet lifting off the ground, the earth slipping away, then abruptly hitting his feet again.
Slowly he opened his eyes and his mouth fell open.
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