Content Harry Potter Crossovers
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The Final Battle.

Number 12 Grimmauld place was a far different house than it had been. While it still had all the security and privacy charms in place, it was no longer the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore had been rather put out when I kicked them out.

Not that he put up much of a fight over that, he could see the writing on the wall. With Voldemort gone, his Death Eaters (with the upgraded tattoo) turned to dust, there wasn't really a need for such a secure base of operations. Once they were gone, I had the Fidelius charm removed, and began renovating the place.

Now, it was like a home. The upstairs living room was cosy and comfortable. I'd enlarded the windows so that they covered nearly the entire wall so that, though now covered, they let in massive amounts of light during the day. The enormous blazing fire filled the room with both light and warmth. The ancient, leather sofa was stretched out in front, inviting me to sit down and relax.

I gave in without a fight, and sank into the soft leather. Soft music filtered through the room, not coming from any particular source. With an ice-cold cider in my hand, a quiet home and no relatives screaming for my help or homicidal maniacs screaming for my head, I was finally beginning to come to terms with the fact that the universe might have lost interest in messing up my life.

I was almost dozing off when the fire flashed green. Though it had taken me a while, I was now able to keep from flinching and reaching for my wand when that happened. The security on The Burrow's floo connection was nothing compared to this one.

Hermione stepped through, brushing soot off her sweater. My face broke into a large smile. "'Mione! Welcome!"

She started suddenly, obviously not expecting that I would be in the room, but she smiled just as broadly. "Good evening, Harry. I just thought..."

I raised an eyebrow. "What? That you'd come over and keep me company on a cold winter night?"

"It's not winter."

"Whatever. It's cold out."

She lost her smile. "I just thought that you should have some company. The twins are worried about you. You've spent a lot of time away from the shop."

I shrugged. "With Ron and Susan working there, they hardly need me. Anyway, it was getting exceedingly uncomfortable." At Hermione's blank, questioning expression, I elaborated. "It's difficult to make conversation when the other participants are tongue-tied."

She frowned, then winced as she made the connection. "I didn't need that."

I gave her a small shrug. "Need, want, whatever. Come on over here and sit down. Do you want a drink?"

She shook her head, but came over and sat on my left. Looking around the room, she nodded in appreciation. "I like what you've done with the place."

I followed her gaze around the room. "I suppose. Once I started, it was hard to know when to stop."

Hermione pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands in her lap, trying hard not to laugh. "I remember the first change you made."

I frowned lightly for a second, before grinning myself.

It had not been a good day.

So far, I had yelled and been yelled at by Remus, Mrs Weasley, Dumbledore and, oddly, Dobby. Getting the former trio out of Sirius' house had been the bone of contention there, the latter had been deeply offended that I hadn't immediately told him that I had a massive house that was completely filthy from top to bottom.

Despite the amusing expressions on all the non-muggle-raised people in the room at the unique situation of a house elf yelling at a wizard, it was still a struggle to get them all to leave. Remus, while expressly allowed to stay, flat out refused. As much as I would have liked him to live with me, he had his own place, and he wasn't willing to impose.

But what really set my mood off was the effects of Tonks' entrance. She somehow tripped over the stand for walking sticks, which had been cunningly placed behind the front door. She sprawled straight into Sirius' mother's portrait, tearing down the curtains on the front.

"BLOOD TRAITOR! HOW DARE YOU ENTER THIS HOME!"

I winced at the magnified voice. "Damn it, haven't you managed to get rid of her yet?" I shouted down to Remus, who was helping Tonks to her feet.

He set his jaw and ignored me, making sure Tonks was uninjured. Hermione, behind me simply said, "No, he haven't. Sirius was here for months, and he was as good as, if not better than Prof-, Remus at that sort of thing. If he hadn't managed to take the painting down in all that time, what makes you think Remus could have?"

"GET OUT! GET OUT!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, for... Get out of the way!" I snapped, stamping down the stairs.

Both Tonks and Remus were suddenly nervous. "Um, Harry? What are you doing?" he asked as I stormed up to the portrait.

Hermione, who had seen me in such a mood before, simply remained silent.

"BEGONE, FOUL MUDBLOOD!" the portrait screeched.

I reached over and snatched up a walking stick that one of Dumbledore's acquaintances had left behind. Glaring at the portrait, I simply said, "No. You're the one who's leaving."

Mrs. Black almost looked gleeful. "DO YOUR WORST, BOY!"

With a shrug, I slowly drew my wand, leaving Voldemort's in my sleave, and transfigured the walking stick into a wicked looking axe.

"Um, Harry?" Tonks tentatively said. "Sirius already tried to attack her with an axe. The head broke off and nearly killed him."

I ignored her. I took a massive wind up and swung the axe as hard as I could.

Into the wall next to the portrait.

The massive hole I made was quite satisfying. I tugged the axe out and swung again, working my way down the wall. Once there was a hole down below the bottom of the portrait, I chopped my way across the wall below, then up the other side and finally, across the top.

Screeching insults all the while, the portrait dropped down still attached to the wall behind. In its place was a massive hole in the plaster, showing the interior of the wall cavity. I grabbed the frame and gave it a twist and a shove, pushing it over so that it landed face up on the floor. I stomped onto the ugly bitch's face, grinding her ugly chun under my heel.

"There! That's how you get rid of the bloody bitch!" I shouted to my suddenly rather bashful audience.

I took another sip of my cider. "The bonfire in the back yard was very satisfying, as I recall."

Hermione chuckled softly, and leaned onto my shoulder. I gently placed my left arm around her, and she sighed, sounding content.

We sat in silence for a few moments before the fire flashed green again. This time, Blaise stepped out, dressed in a tight black dress, which showed off the petite witch's wonderful legs to perfection.

I didn't move, but Hermione's head lifted off my shoulder. I nodded in greeting. "Hello, Blaise. Welcome."

Blaise blinked as she took in the scene. "Uh, hi. Hello, Hermione."

"Blaise."

Well this was awkward. "Blaise, please, take a seat," I said. "Would you like a drink?"

She shook her head, and half turned to go back into the fire. "Sorry, I didn't realise you had company."

"We were just reminiscing. You're welcome to join us," I said, much to Hermione's disappointment, if the sudden jab in the ribs she gave me was any indication.

Blaise must have caught it too. She gave a sudden grin and sat in one of the single armchairs. "Well then, all right. What were you talking about?"

I smiled again at the thought. "Oh, just about when I removed a portrait of Sirius' mother from downstairs."

Her smile went slightly wooden. "Ok. Sounds like fun," she said, not sounding at all convinced.

"You'd have had to be there," I said, a large smile on my face.

Blaise's eyes flickered between Hermione and I, and her smile turned sly. "Hermione, did Harry ever tell you about what happened between us on his bed in the summer before our last year?"

My eyes flickered open as the hinges on the door to my room creaked softly. I tightened my grip on my wand under my pillow, and gently pushed my mind out. I couldn't see a thing in the pitch darkness, but I had practiced this sub-discipline of Legilimency enough that I could recognise people by the shape of their minds.

I relaxed slowly as I recognised Blaise. In the few days since she had joined us for her summer holiday, Zab's attitude towards us had changed. While we were permitted to spend time together, we were discretely chaperoned at all times, much to both our displeasure. Though Blaise was much more vocal about it than I.

"Harry?" Blaise whispered softly.

"I'm awake," I answered, in a normal tone.

"Shh!"

I chuckled quietly to myself. "Why? No one can hear us."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, then caught myself. Duh, we were in the dark. I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "Yes. I put silencing charms on my room a while ago," I said without offering any other explanation. I'd erected them when I was first practising remote casting. To begin with, shouting spells was the main way for me to force enough power down the link to cast them remotely.

The bed shifted, the mattress settling under Blaise's weight. "I've really missed you."

I took a deep breath and concentrated. Remote magic was fine, but wandless was in a different league. I'd only managed to do one thing deliberately. Above our heads, a fist sized sphere of soft, gentle light slowly faded into existence above us. I let out my breath explosively, and looked at my midnight visitor.

Blaise's raven hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, though a few tendrils hung down from her temples, framing her pretty face quite nicely. But it was her nightdress that caught both my attention and my breath. Though it was severe, white cotton, even under the gentle light of my magic, it was quite obvious she was wearing nothing underneath.

She gave me a wicked grin at my reaction, and got on her hands and knees, crawling over me with one hand on either side of my body. The neckline hung down low enough that my wide-open eyes were drawn straight down with no measurable brain activity on my part. To my disappointment, I had positioned the light without any forethought. It was above us, and Blaise's body was shrouded in shadow enough that I couldn't see anything but a vague outline.

A very nice outline though.

She pushed her face so that it was only a few centimetres from mine. "Like what you see, Gryffindor?" she asked huskily, nodding her head with a questioning expression.

I swallowed with my suddenly dry throat, as conscious as I had ever been of my heart. I could feel it thumping against my ribcage very fast. I nodded slowly myself. "Oh, hell yes."

She gave a soft growl of pleasure that sent a muscle spasm down my spine. From her crawling, she slowly crouched, straddling my waist. Though she was as light as a feather, she chose just the wrong place to sit. Or perhaps the right place.

Her eyes widened momentarily with realisation, before her lips twisted into a very satisfied smile. "You do indeed." She gently wiggled her hips, pushing down on me.

I groaned softly, almost whimpering. I let myself fall back, my shaking arms not able to hold me up any longer.

Her face appeared over my own, looking down. The loose locks of hair hung down lightly tickling my cheeks and neck. I reached up and touched her cheek, then ran my fingers down the side of her neck. In the shadows, I couldn't make out the fine detail, but her skin was warm and smooth, and very enticing. "You're beautiful."

Though her expression showed her amusement, she snorted and said, "Yeah, I bet all you boys say that when you're in this position."

I smiled back. "Any boy would, so long as they were in this exact position."

Her mischievous eyes danced, and she slowly lowered her head and body, lying on me and depositing her lips onto my own.

The kiss was breathtaking, and my heart rate increased, something I wasn't sure was possible without medical attention. I was suddenly very aware of her body. The slightly rough material covered her incredibly soft form. How hot she felt, how good she smelled. Suddenly, I wanted her naked and next to me so very, very much.

From the change in Hermione's breathing, I was guessing she wasn't too pleased with the story. Blaise's expression indicated that she was quite happy with the way things were progressing.

"Why don't we finish the story?" I suggested.

My hands were gently trailing down Blaise's back, then down her side. Just as the texture beneath subtly changed from cloth/skin/rib to cloth/skin/breast, the lights in the room blazed into life, and we both flinched. Blaise even went so far as to cover her chest with her arms as she rolled off me, even though she was still wearing that damned nightdress. I found myself on my elbows, blinking in the sudden light.

Zab was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a questioning look on his face.

I swallowed again, and cleared my throat. "Um..."

I glanced over at Blaise, who was looking at her Great-grandfather with her lower lip between her teeth. Wisely, she stayed silent.

"Um, we..." I began, not sure what to say.

Zab's eyebrows rose slightly higher at my incompetent attempts to explain away our actions. He gave a slow blink as he shifted his attention to Blaise. "Bed. Now."

She was off my bed in a flash, and scuttled past Zab without meeting his eyes. He hardly moved, he simply tilted his head slightly to watch her disappear.

Another slow blink, and he focused back on me. "My study. Six o'clock."

I swallowed yet again, and nodded.

The lights winked out, leaving me blinking as the afterimages danced in front of my eyes. The door creaked closed, and shut firmly. A gentle blue glow indicated that Zab was not taking any chances. My door wasn't locked, but he'd know if anyone crossed through it for the rest of the night.

Not that it was necessary. I'm quite sure neither Blaise nor I were brave enough to tempt Zab's temper again.

The next day, I trudged out to Zab's stables. Not just the ordinary equine stables of the muggle world, but full-fledged magical stables. Back when it was legal, Pegasus breeding had taken place here. Wyverns had been housed here. Hell, even the odd Griffin had been tamed and trained to carry a rider.

Now, only a trio of hippogriffs were housed there. Poor specimens, when compared to a wild one like Buckbeak, since it looked as though their diet wasn't exactly spot on.

The stench of the knee-deep sludge hit me like a sackful of sand. I gagged, almost throwing up immediately. Shovel all the dung out of the traps, Zab had instructed. No magic, just a shovel that you'll find hanging on the back of the stable doors.

Breathing through my mouth, I looked behind the door. Two shovels were hanging there. I grabbed one and made my way over to the traps. The horribly coloured slurry beneath the mesh covers was the most hideous thing I'd ever seen. The animals' diet was definitely wrong. Using the shovel blade, I levered the cover off, then grabbed the wheelbarrow and dragged it over to the pit.

I knelt down next to the traps and sank the blade of the shovel into the muck, and lifted out a chunk.

The muck slid off the blade as though it was greased. I got maybe half a cupful into the wheelbarrow.

Slumping down in defeat, I sullenly examined the blade closely, while holding my breath of course. A telltale glimmer of magic told the story. Zab had charmed the blade.

Bastard.

I checked the other shovel too. Same thing.

Double Bastard.

I trudged back over, when the disgusting thought hit me. I could probably scoop the stuff out faster by using my hands.

Like that was ever going to happen.

I just shook my head, and began shovelling. After a while, I discovered one thing that was going for me. The wheelbarrow was charmed to hold a hundred times as much as a normal one. I wouldn't have to wheel it to the pit outside more than once.

It felt like a week, but was probably only an hour later when Blaise joined me. In the early morning heat, she was dressed in a singlet, shorts and a filthy expression. She wordlessly snatched the second broom from behind the door and stamped up to me.

"This is all your fault, Potter!"

After shovelling the smelliest shit in the world for an eternity, I was in no mood to be gracious. "Funny, I thought you were smarter than that."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she put her hands on her hips, stretching the material of her singlet across her chest.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

"Stop looking at my tits, Potter!" she snapped. "If you'd put a privacy charm on your room, we wouldn't be here!"

"I did," I forced out from between clenched teeth. I hadn't, but given our actions last year, I'm sure that even if I had, Zab would have known what was going on.

"Bollocks!" she retorted. "Now I have to shovel this shit with you."

"Cool. I really didn't want to have to do this myself."

"I should let you anyway."

I shrugged, knowing that if Zab had assigned the task, she wouldn't dare to avoid it. "Whatever. Trust a Slytherin to pass the blame."

I shouldn't have said it, and I certainly didn't mean it. But it was only with a great deal of discipline that she stopped herself from braining me with the shovel.

We spat insults back and forth for the rest of the morning while working. She let off a rather impressive stream of expletives on discovering that the shovel blade had been charmed.

Once we were halfway done, it became obvious that we couldn't use the charmed shovels to scoop up the crap while kneeling on the lip of the pit. We argued venomously about who was going to get into the pit first, but in the end, we both ended up knee deep in warm, slimy, (not to mention, slightly acidic) smelly shit.

There wasn't a great deal of room in the pit for the two of us, and all sorts of jostling and scuffling began taking place.

Again and again, we shovelled tiny amounts out of the trap. At one point, one of the animals in the pens gave a sort of liquid fart, and a litre or so of disgusting, lumpy crap splashed into the trap.

Blaise swallowed, but looked very pale. "I'm going to be sick," she said faintly.

"Feel free," I said. "It could only make the place a little bit cleaner. On average, anyway."

She tried to smile, but couldn't control her stomach, and she vomited.

I stripped off my t-shirt, turned it inside out and held it out to her. It was sticky with sweat around the neck, but compared with anything else in the place, it was sterile. She gratefully wiped her mouth. "Thanks," she said quietly.

I nodded. "No problem. Come on, we're nearly done."

She tossed my shirt across the room, nodded, and started shovelling again.

As huge as the pit felt to my shoulder muscles, in fact it was pretty constricting, since we both were bumping and rubbing each other while working. I caught Blaise looking at my torso from out of the corner of my eye more than once, and I'm sure she caught me looking at her. With a pale, sweat-stained singlet clinging to her petite frame and no bra, it was only for a purely technical reason you could say she wasn't topless either.

That one moment of camaraderie didn't last long. We bickered and bitched at each other for most of the rest of the day, finishing our punishment late in the afternoon. As we separated to go to different bathrooms, we sent each other parting insults. I did notice Zab, however, looking mighty amused.

Yes, he was a student of adolescent behaviour. He knew just how to make sure that two people who were attracted to each other avoid the other for days.

Bastard.

Hermione giggled and snuggled deeper under my arm. "I could get to like your teacher, Harry. He sounds like a wonderful student of human nature."

Blaise snorted, and uncrossed her toned legs. Suddenly, the calculating expression I loved appeared, and she stood, took a couple of steps towards us, and sat down next to me on my right. Hermione stiffened, clutching me slightly tighter across the stomach. Blaise smirked slightly, and buried herself under my right arm, in a remarkably familiar move.

My head stayed right where it was, but my eyes darted from side to side. The expected explosion didn't occur. However, both girls were staking a claim on my body I wasn't quite sure I was ready to deal with.

Hermione spoke, almost hissing, "Harry, why don't you tell her about what happened on our last night at Hogwarts?"

I rolled my eyes. I just knew where this was going.

I wandered around the hallways with Hermione as she performed her final Head Girl duties, hunting down all the students out after curfew getting in one last snog session before heading home the next day. I was quite surprised at the sheer number of students we encountered. Most in a variety of compromising positions.

"You know, a lot of them are Slytherins."

Hermione nodded. "Professor Snape is in the hospital wing. His habit of keeping students working right up until the final period of term backfired on him this year."

"An exploding potion?"

Hermione nodded, trying to keep a smile off her face. "He's in the hospital wing, and Professor Vector was asked to keep an eye on the Slytherins tonight. But no Slytherin worth his salt would have difficulty in running circles around her."

"Too trusting?"

Hermione nodded. "Most of them figure that because the school year is over, they can't be punished with points, and since the train leaves early tomorrow morning, they can't be given detention. But the Headmaster told us to give them detentions for next year, which means that a great many Slytherins will be explaining to Professor Snape in a couple of months why they were out and about."

I winced. "Oh, nasty. So, Snape didn't resign?"

She frowned. "No. Why would he?"

I sniffed. Though it didn't surprise me that he hadn't quit, it did surprise me that Hermione didn't remember what I'd told her. "Remember? Snape said that if I could cast remote magic, he'd quit."

She almost pouted. "That's right!"

I couldn't resist that look. "Not that it affects us any more. We're both out of here tomorrow."

Her deep brown eyes flickered up and down my frame. "In that case..."

I blinked. "Are you serious?"

She stepped forward and ran a finger down my cheek. "Absolutely."

I couldn't keep a smile from forming, despite being shocked. "But what about all the rules you'll be breaking?"

She almost smirked. "What rules?"

I frowned slightly. "You've just been assigning detentions for next year to pairs of students caught in compromising positions."

She lightly scratched the side of my neck. "You are not a student."

"Curfew?"

"Not applicable to me."

Damn, she looked sultry. "Well then, shall we find a cupboard, or did you have a more romantic spot in mind?"

She smiled, quite pleased with my compliance, and firmly took my hand. It didn't take a genius to work out where we were going, and I was looking forward to seeing the Room of Requirement change to suit Hermione's needs.

It didn't disappoint.

The fire in the fireplace was not exactly roaring, but there were a lot of glowing coals, which gave the room a dim, yet romantic setting. A wonderfully comfortable couch sat in front, while behind that, tantalizingly, sat an enormous four-poster bed.

"Not exactly a prime studying roo-," I began, before Hermione covered my lips with her own.

Without thinking, my hands began trailing lightly up and down her back. Even through her uniform, I could feel how soft her skin was. If it felt as good to her as her hands on my back felt to me, I was surprised she wasn't groaning into my mouth.

We broke our kiss, and I looked deeply into her wonderful brown eyes, now lidded with desire. Gently, we sat on the couch and resumed our exploration of each other. Slowly, our clothes began falling off.

As Hermione's bra fell to the floor, I was having some trouble breathing. She had a wonderful chest, which I just had to give an intimate examination. Three of my senses decided that her nipples were perfect; in sight, touch and taste.

Though I couldn't tell you exactly when, we ended up on the bed. The smooth, warm sensation of her skin on my own drowned out any voice in my head urging caution. As inexperienced as we were at this sort of thing, it felt perfectly natural, despite my racing heart.

Despite the nonchalant expression on Blaise's face, I could tell she was just as unhappy as Hermione had been during her recital of our adventure. Both girls each had a cheek on my chest, and were glaring at each other.

I sighed, figuring that to avoid a homicide, Hermione really should finish the story.

Hermione straddled my stomach, running her fingertips down my chest. Her expression indicated that she liked what she felt. Her hair above me was a mess, well, more of a mess than usual. She looked wild, decadent, and that simply inspired a passion in me I had no idea existed.

"'Mione? Harry?"

I nearly screamed with frustration, deja vu flooding my mind.

Hermione on the other hand squeaked in surprise, covered herself, and all but dove under the covers. In the darkness, I could just make out the silhouette of Ron at the door, peering into the room, holding onto a sheet of parchment that looked eerily familiar.

Afterwards, Ron claimed not to have seen anything; that the room was too dark to make out details. Hermione grasped that explanation with a determination to believe that I'd never seen outside of a religious nut. However, my burgeoning Legilimency skills easily told me that he wasn't being entirely truthful.

Blaise looked rather satisfied with how the adventure ended, tightening her grip of my waist and humming with contentment. "So, the third member of the Golden Trio got a gander at more than he wanted to?"

Hermione's retort was cut off by me. "Enough, both of you, please!" I tightened by hug on both of them. "Look, I told you two years ago, I need both of you. If picking one of you to be my girlfriend means the other will no longer be a friend, then I'm sorry, I'm not going to choose either of you."

Both turned their faces up to look at me, indecipherable expressions on each. I sighed deeply. This wasn't going well.

"Look. If I can't have both of you in my life, I'm not going to be happy. You'll have to deal with that yourselves."

The pair turned to face each other, still under my arms.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, a tiny smirk on her lips.

Hermione frowned slightly.

Blaise raised both eyebrows, a questioning expression on her face.

Hermione bit her lip, and shook her head slightly.

Blaise nodded slightly, her eyes boring into 'Mione's.

A look of determination appeared on Hermione, and she nodded too.

Both turned to look up at me, an identical smirk on their lips.

My confusion lasted for an instant, disappearing once both girls leaned in and kissed both sides of my neck. At least three feminine hands burrowed under my clothes at various points.

The last conscious thought on my mind was to whisper the locking security charm, preventing anyone else coming in through the fire. I sure as hell wasn't going to be interrupted this time.

The End.

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