Chapter 3

Harry and Ron made their way back to the train. Harry had quidditch practice scheduled for the afternoon. He was about to leave when Hermione came into the compartment. She was carrying an ibbum in both hands as if it might shatter at the slightest bump. "You'll never guess what this is," she announced breathlessly.

"It's an ibbum," Ron said casually.

Hermione looked disappointed for about a second, but then she said eagerly, "Yes, isn't it wonderful?"

"Hermione, only you would think that having thousands of school books at your fingertips is a good thing," said Ron. "Look, Harry has practice. Do you want to come along and watch, or do you want to stay here and play with your toy? Where did you get that thing, anyway?"

"It's not a toy," she said as she took a seat and opened the ibbum. She clearly intended to stay put. "And our guide from this morning let me borrow it until tomorrow."

"Well, fine then," Ron said. He and Harry left for the quidditch field.

Ron took a seat in the stands as Harry went to join the other players. After changing into their robes, the team met at the center of the quidditch field as Tom Smith had called for a team meeting. "Okay," he said, "as you can see, we have a number of people in the stands to watch us practice, including a bunch of guys from the other team. So let's keep things slow and simple during practice. There's no point in giving away our best plays."

After a few minutes of practice, Harry wasn't worried about giving away anything to the watching Americans. Clearly, the Hogwarts players should have spent more time at practice than screwing. It wasn't that they were bad. It was simply that they were used to being leaders on their own teams, and it was difficult for them to blend together.

After practice, Harry and Ron made their way back to the train. Harry showered and dressed in his usual jeans, sweatshirt and trainers. "When do we go to this dinner and dance?" he asked Ron, "I'm starving."

Ron checked his watch. "Any time, I guess," he said. "I wonder where Hermione and Jenny got to?" As if on cue there was a tap at the door, and the two girls appeared when Ron answered. Hermione was wearing a narrow skirt that extended well below her knees. Her blouse had three-quarter sleeves and the collar was turned up. Jenny was wearing capris with a sleeveless top and a kerchief knotted at her throat. "What in the world are you two dressed for?" asked Ron.

"It's a theme dance," said Hermione in a tone of exasperation she frequently used with Ron and Harry. "You'd know that if you had just read..."

"the itinerary," Ron and Harry finished with her.

"Well... yes," said Hermione. "We're supposed to be dressed like students from the fifties or sixties."

"Actually, jeans are fine," said Jenny, gesturing at the boys as if she and Hermione might as well give into the inevitable.

"Oh, I suppose so," said Hermione, "let's go, we're going to be late as it is."

They made their way through the gathering darkness toward the cafeteria. The pathways and walks were lit with a soft golden glow from lights suspended overhead in the tree branches. They entered the cafeteria a few minutes later. The place had been transformed. The tables had been replaced by a series of booths. A sign made of the magical world's version of neon tubing welcomed the Hogwarts students and the American quidditch team. At the far end of the room a band played from atop a low stage. Students were dancing to a song that their grandparents would have found familiar.

"It's lovely," said Hermione.

"Let's find a seat and eat," said Ron, leading the way into the noisy room.

They took their seats at an empty booth, and almost immediately three elves appeared at their side. One elf precariously balanced a tray overburdened with platters of food over her head. Another elf leapt on top of their table, while a third elf began to pass up the platters of burgers, hotdogs and fries. Plates, silverware, napkins and condiments flew through the air and ended up in front of Harry's group. When the elf jumped to the floor, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Jenny clapped their approval; not a drop of soda had been spilt, nor a crumb of food dropped. The elves bowed, their foreheads touching the floor, and then they scampered away.

"It's really good food," said Ron. His words were barely intelligible through a mouthful of hamburger. The group ate as they watched various couples make their way to the dance floor. As his plate of food began to dwindle, Harry began to dread the moment when the girls would begin to hint that they would like to dance. He jumped a bit when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Tom Smith was standing there, after greeting everyone he said, "Harry, have you met the American team?"

"No, not yet," Harry said.

"They're sitting all together over here," Tom said, pointing somewhere on the opposite side of the room. "Why don't you come on over?"

"Can I come too?" asked Ron, eagerly.

Tom shrugged. "Sure, would you ladies like to come also?" he asked Hermione and Jenny.

"No, thanks," said Hermione.

"I've already met them," said Jenny.

"You have?" Ron said in surprise. "When?" She just gave her brother a smile and a shrug that told him to mind his own business.

Harry and Ron followed Tom across the room to where the American team was seated. They were easy to pick out. They were all wearing the same thing: white shirts, sweaters embroidered with a golden snitch, white pants and even white socks and shoes. Evidently, they were trying to look like a group of college athletes from a bygone era. Harry noticed that there were no girls on the team. In fact these guys were pretty manly men. They all looked as if they could have come from American football teams. Tall, fit and ruggedly handsome was the general description for any of them.

Tom introduced Ron and Harry to each of the players. Each player seemed determined to deliver a hearty handshake. Harry's hand was beginning to ache from all the bone crunching clinches when he came to the last player. "This is Gary Johnson, the team captain," said Tom.

"So you're the famous seeker I've heard so much about," said Gary as he gave Harry's hand another vice-like squeeze.

"Well, I do my best," said Harry. He massaged his hand once it was freed from confinement.

"So what position do you play," asked Ron once he had been introduced to Gary. And then they were off into the world of quidditch. Harry stayed with the group for a few minutes and then he excused himself. He knew that Ron could talk quidditch as long as anyone would listen, but he, Harry, could only take so much. He wandered back to the table where Hermione was working with her borrowed ibbum.

Hermione closed the ibbum and stored it in her bag at Harry's approach. Before he could sit down, she grabbed him by the arm and with deliberate determination steered him toward the dance floor. Resistance, he decided, was futile. Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Harry did his best to move his body in time to an old Beatles tune. When the song ended, Hermione squeezed his sore hand and said, "Thank you, Harry. That wasn't too painful, was it?"

"Only a bit," said Harry, rubbing at his hand.

They took their seats at the table once more, followed shortly by Jenny who was escorted by one of the American quidditch players. Apparently, they had been dancing too, although Harry hadn't seen them on the crowded floor. The player thanked Jenny, and then left. In fact he almost ran into Ron as he made his return. "What did he want?" Ron asked, referring to the American.

"Never mind," said Jenny.

Ron glared at his sister for a second, but then his face cleared and he said, "I've been talking to those blokes, and they don't know crap about quidditch. I'm going to double that bet I made," he declared.

"Oh, Ron, no," said Hermione. But he had already turned and left. "That's another thousand galleons that he doesn't have," she said with an air of doom. "Why didn't you say something, Harry?"

Harry gave a massive shrug. "I didn't have time to say anything, he practically disapparated. Besides, you know how he is about money." Ron and Harry were best mates, but Ron could be jealous of Harry's wealth and notoriety. Harry was careful not to trigger those feelings.

"Why don't we just tell him our suspicions about Angus, Malfoy and that whole Slytherin bunch. They have to be up to something," said Hermione.

"I tried," said Jenny. "But Ron just gave me a big lecture on how betting worked. He claimed that the odds on the Americans were huge, and that there had to be some people betting on them to even things out. I'm not sure I understand it all, but apparently that's why he has to bet so much money — he won't get much return if he doesn't.

"Oh, I understand the math," said Hermione. "It's the involvement of those Slytherin assholes that I don't like. Something's up besides illegal bookmaking." She gave Harry a hard look.

Harry threw up his hands. "I agree, but how am I supposed to..." He was cut off when, once again, someone put their hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw someone familiar. It took him a second to recognize Charlie, his guide from the previous afternoon.

"Harry," she said with a bright grin, "I've been looking all over for you."

Charlie was wearing a bright orange miniskirt that stopped scandalously short of mid-thigh. Her top was of a rib-knit material with white and navy stripes. It clung provocatively around her breasts. She had on white, calf-length boots, plus hoop earrings and bracelets that matched the blue in her blouse. Not only was she dressed radically different from their previous meeting, but now her blonde hair was nearly waist length, plus she was wearing a considerable amount of makeup. It made her look older and sexier. Her face was flushed and she was wearing a silly grin. Harry suspected that she had been drinking.

"Hi," said Harry. He tried to introduce Hermione and Jenny, but Charlie was already pulling on his arm.

"Come on," she urged, "let's dance."

"Well, alright, I guess," he said, standing. It seemed to be his night to be tugged at by females. When they reached the dance floor, the band segued into a slow tempo song. The couples on the floor flowed into one another's arms, and Charlie didn't hesitate to follow their lead. She slid her arms around Harry's neck and buried her breasts against his chest.

Harry didn't mind at all. He put his hands on her waist, not far from actually grabbing her ass. His cock began to swell in his trousers; he wondered if Charlie would notice. She even smelled good from a heady mix of perfume, shampoo and a hint of alcohol. But despite the assault on his senses, Harry couldn't get Ron completely out of his mind. Could the Americans really be that good? Suddenly inspired, he leaned away from Charlie so he could look her in the eye. "You haven't seen the American team practice, by any chance?"

Charlie's eyes opened in surprise. "Quidditch? I know that's not what's on your mind." She ground her hips against his, giving his cock a massage.

Harry managed to say, "I can hold two thoughts in my head at the same time, even in the presence of such beauty."

Charlie laughed. "Well said." She looked at Harry thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Their team arrived only yesterday. They had a closed practice." She waited until the anticipation on his face began to fade into disappointment, then she said, "But some of my girlfriends wanted to see what was going on, so we snuck in under the stands and watched. You know, those guys are cute, but give me baseball or football where the guys wear those tight pants. Now those are sports worth watching," she finished, with a teasing grin.

"Really?" said Harry, brightening considerably. "Could you tell me about it, or better yet, use the pensieve feature of your ibbum to see it?"

"I guess I could do that," said Charlie. "Of course, we'd have to go to my room."

"Uh... okay," said Harry. "Is that a problem?"

Charlie laughed and shook her head, "Not at all." She and Harry left the dance. They walked only about fifty yards and they were at the entrance to a dormitory. Charlie led the way down a long hall until she stopped at a door. She placed her palm against the door and a second later there was a click; the door swung open.

Harry followed Charlie into the room. It smelled of perfume, powder and other pleasant feminine scents. There were two beds as well as dressers and wardrobes. Candles lit the room in a soft glow. Charlie turned her back to Harry and lifted her hair away from her blouse. "Help me with this zipper," she said.

"Zipper?" asked Harry, his voice climbing.

"Yeah," said Charlie, "you know... it's the gadget with the interlaced teeth..."

"I know what a zipper is," said Harry. He took hold of the tab and slowly pulled. "I'm just not sure what it has to do with looking at your memory."

Charlie shrugged out of her top and tossed over the back of a chair. She gave him a sultry smile and said, "You didn't think it was going to be free, did you?" She proceeded to pull off her boots and wiggled out of her skirt. She frowned at Harry. "It's not polite to allow a lady to undress alone. Besides, you're about to burst out of your pants as it is."

Harry looked down to see his erection tenting the front of his jeans. "Oh, right," he said. He began to pull off his clothes with shaky hands. He was suddenly nervous. This wasn't an orgy where more than willing girls were throwing themselves at him. Here he was supposed to... he was supposed to... damn, he realized that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He did have the presence of mind to use the sibioso spell on his dick while he was undressing. At least he'd have that going for him.

Harry turned and looked at Charlie. She was lying on her bed, looking very soft and very curvy in all the right places. He lay beside her and said in a husky voice, "I'm not exactly experienced at this."

"You can start by kissing me," she said softly. Harry kissed her lips tenderly, not daring too much. "More like this," said Charlie, and she crushed her mouth on his, sticking her tongue in his mouth.

Harry responded eagerly, playing with her tongue. Shortly, they were both panting and the sound of wet kisses filled the room. His hands seemed to move of their own volition; he found her full breasts and began to tweak her nipples. Charlie gurgled in pleasure in the midst of their kisses. Her hand swept through his hair, and then she raked her nails down his back. Harry's fingers trailed down Charlie's flat tummy and, to his surprise, dipped into her pussy. He rained kisses all over her heaving tits as he finger-fucked her hot cunt. "Oh Harry," she moaned, "I'd say you know exactly what to do." She pushed her pussy mound against his palm.

Harry was delighted that he could please Charlie so well. He was especially delighted when she threw a leg over his torso and rose up above him on the bed. She grasped his cock and stuffed it into her eager pussy. Harry knew that he would blow his load in just a few strokes, so he grabbed Charlie by the arms and pulled her close. He wanted the sibioso spell to work its magic. Within seconds was murmuring, "Mmmm... that feels nice." Within a minute she was grinding her pelvis against his. "Oh fuck, Harry, that's... that's amazing. How are you doing that?"

Harry didn't bother to respond. He released Charlie from his grasp, and she put her hands on his chest to push herself up. "Uhhh... uhhhh," she moaned as her eyes rolled back, and Harry felt her vaginal muscles spasm and release in orgasm.

"Oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming again," Charlie whined. She began to whip her hips up and down on Harry's steel hard erection.

Harry bit his lip, trying to hold himself back, but it was no use. He took a deep breath and then held it as the cum rushed through his dick and spurted into Charlie's receptive cunt. For her part, Charlie managed two more orgasms before Harry's spent cock began to wilt.

Charlie fell over sideways onto the bed. "That was amazing," she whispered into Harry's smooth chest. The couple caught their breath, and then Charlie rolled off the bed. "I guess you've earned this," she said with a giggle. She opened her ibbum which was lying on a nearby desk. After tapping at its keys, she held her thumb down on an oval shaped button. Her face screwed up in concentration for a few seconds then she turned back to Harry. "Okay, just hit enter and you can see what I remember about that practice. I've got to go pee." She wrapped a robe around herself and disappeared out the door.

Harry padded over to the desk and took a seat on the edge of a chair. He pushed the enter key and Charlie's memory immediately popped up on the screen. Unlike his experience using Dumbledore's penseive, where he could walk about and see what he liked, using this ibbum, Harry could only see what had fallen into Charlie's field of vision.

At first he saw a mélange of female backsides and passing scenery, then Charlie's attention turned, at least sporadically, to the quidditch field as seen from beneath the stands. Finally, he got to see American team flitting about on their brooms. They were impressively fast. Well, that was no surprise, the Americans would be expected to have excellent equipment. And they sat their brooms incredibly well, using both hands to handle the quaffle and bludger bats even while cutting through turns. Harry wondered how they were managing to do that until one of the players came nearly to a stop in front of Charlie. That was when Harry saw that the Americans were using some sort of saddle on their brooms. Now it was obvious; they were guiding and holding onto their brooms using their legs and knees. That left both their hands free. It was a huge advantage. The Hogwarts team would be forced to rely on their defense. Something they hadn't counted on, nor were they very good at.

The door opened and Charlie swept back into the room. "Well, did you learn anything?" she asked, looking over Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah, a bit," said Harry as he stood.

"I hope you're not looking for another round," she said, looking at Harry's naked state. "You were great. I may be walking funny for days." Harry chuckled. He assumed she was kidding, but he fairly glowed with the implied compliment. Hastily, he dressed.

Charlie stretched luxuriously and kissed Harry goodbye at the door. She had decided not to return to the dance. Harry took his time covering the distance back to the cafeteria. He walked along with his hands in his pockets, head down, feet shuffling through the fallen leaves. His mind swirled with thoughts of what to do about Ron mixed with the American's practice session, all overlaid with the memory of Charlie's soft body against his and the electrifying feeling of her pussy wrapped around his cock.

He came to a stop when an idea popped out of his subconscious. He examined it closely. Sometimes his imagination could add two plus two and come up with the square root of pumpkin juice. After giving the matter some thought, he saw that there were several ifs that had to fall into place, but it would be fun to see if he could pull it off.

Entering the dance, he saw that Jenny and Hermione were sitting at their table. He caught Jenny's eye and motioned her over. "Where did you disappear to?" she asked.

"Charlie let me see her memories of the American's practice," Harry said. "It's given me an idea that may help Ron." He quickly outlined his plan. "So, do you think the girls would go for it?" He was referring to the girls who were eager to show up at the orgies.

"A chance to party with those American hunks?" said Jenny with a grin. "I think they'll go for it, but what about getting back on the train? It'll be after curfew when we return."

"If you'll talk to the girls, then I'll talk to Hermione. Since she's a proctor she should be able to arrange it." said Harry.

"Good luck with that," said Jenny.

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry. They went their separate ways.

"Hi," said Harry as he slid into the booth opposite Hermione. She was once more engrossed in her borrowed ibbum.

She glanced up. "Hi, where did you and Charlie get to?" Harry told her about viewing Charlie's memories of the quidditch practice. He judiciously left out the part where he fucked her.

"So do you think they have a real chance to win?" she asked, referring to the Americans.

"I'm afraid so," said Harry, "but I have a plan."