All those girls focused on him: Lavender, Parvatti, Hanna, Susan, Hermione. . .
Gabby stroked and swirled her tongue.
The pressure in his balls built with his impending release.
The muscles in his stomach tightened and he braced himself on the table in front of him. He couldn't keep himself from glancing around.
Parvatti's wide, lust-filled eyes. . .
Lavender licking her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with the food in front of her.
The pressure built--Gabrielle licked and sucked.
Hermione's nose flared and Harry imagined that part of her remembered Gabby's presence and, so, was aware of the smell of sex drifting up from under the table. Perhaps Gabby had bumped into Hermione's legs while she was down there and that was all it took to bring the memory up.
Gabrielle's smooth, wet tongue glided along the underside of his throbbing erection.
Three seats down from Hermione, that third year girl looked as though she was undressing him with her eyes. Harry noticed her trying to be inconspicuous as her right hand moved unobtrusively beneath the table and he realized with a jolt that she was discretely rubbing herself.
Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes. It took all his strength and willpower to remain silent as he exploded into Gabby's mouth. Pleasure radiated out from his groin so intense that even his hands and feet tingled. Involuntarily, his hips gently thrust forward a bit with each pulse of his cock. His mind was blissfully blank.
The orgasm seemed to go on forever. He heard something, but his brain failed to process it--it sounded as nothing more than a buzzing in his ears.
Pulse, pulse, pulse, the orgasm continued. Despite his closed eyes, he knew that every one of those girls that had been watching him before, were now seeing him come without knowing it. Or perhaps they could tell and it was arousing them as well. Maybe that third-year came when he did. The thought gave his erupting prick an extra powerful throb.
Finally, the pleasure receded a bit and the contractions at the base of his cock slowed. He risked opening his eyes. As the orgasm faded, he realized the buzzing sound that his brain had registered was Hermione trying to get his attention.
"Harry. Harry!" she said quietly but insistently. She was eyeing him with concern. "I think you really should go to the hospital wing."
Under the table, Gabby finished sucking the last of his come out and slurped off his cock.
"I'm all right," he said, his voice now a bit steadier, though perhaps gruffer than normal. His breathing was slowing now. "Just didn't sleep very well last night."
Amazingly, this seemed to mollify her.
Gabrielle slipped out from between his legs and popped back up into the seat she'd vacated earlier as though she'd just sneaked down to pick up a dropped napkin or errant spoon. Harry took a bite of food to make Hermione happy and glanced over at the little vixen sitting next to him.
She was using her finger to scrape a bit of his come that had escaped back into her mouth. Her eyes were glassy. His shifted his attention over to Hermione, wondering if she still noticed Gabby, but she had clearly forgotten the girl. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
He glanced over at Lavender and Parvatti; they were whispering conspiratorially with each other, then Lavender looked over at him and giggled.
He looked back over at the third-year girl. She was worrying her bottom lip and her head was down in an attempt to hide the fact that her face was very red; Harry could see her eyes darting around and when they found that he was looking in her direction, they stopped, widened for a moment and quickly shifted down to rest on her plate.
She appeared to try to make herself grow smaller. He found himself smirking as he realized that she most likely did have that orgasm. The thought made his pulse quicken and he briefly wondered if perhaps she would like the idea of a repeat performance. . . .Or more.
After lunch was over, the four of them trekked up the stairs toward the third floor and Defense Against the Dark Arts. As they reached the first floor landing, however, a voice from below stopped them.
"Monsieur Potter," Mrs. Delacour called out. "Per'aps I could 'ave a moment of your time?"
Ron and Hermione seemed reluctant to let him go off alone with her but he convinced them it would be all right. In truth, though, he hadn't given this meeting any thought, despite the fact that he should have realized it's inevitability.
He found himself suddenly nervous and as he walked back down the stairs and he felt his palms begin to sweat. Assuming this conversation was likely to be very awkward, he motioned Gabby's mother into an unused ground floor classroom for a bit of privacy.
How would she take the news that her daughter was bound to him, he wondered. Surely that would mean she would realize what it was they had been doing. How would she take the knowledge of the kind of bond he shared with her little girl?
How could she be anything but fiercely angry with him--as only a mother can be--the moment she discovered that her daughter would likely follow him around in the nude for the rest of her life?
He suddenly wondered if privacy was what he wanted. Unfortunately, the door was now closing behind him and he knew that any attempt to postpone this conversation now would be impossible. He mentally prepared himself for anything.
"Monsieur Potter," she said again, "I was 'oping you could tell me where my daughter is." He heard no accusation in her voice, merely a quiet acceptance and near certainty that she had come to the right person.
Gabrielle took his hand in hers in comfort and support but out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was nervous too.
Harry tried to reply, but the best he could manage was to squeak out, "Your daughter?"
"Oui, Monsieur Potter," she said. "She and I were scheduled to return to France zis morning but I awoke to find zat she was not in 'er room or anywhere in our guest quarters. And I 'ave reason to believe she would seek you out."
Instead of answering the question, he found himself surprised by her last statement.
"You do?"
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