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Harry Potter and the Popsicle of Doom

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” asked Hermione for the hundredth time, her voice hesitant as she peered through the dark of the small cave into the murky water.

“Hermione, we've already been through this!” replied Harry, exasperated. He understood why she was scared - he was too - but it was beginning to get tired. “This is exactly the same way I did it with Professor Dumbledore.”

“I know,” she said, “but he died after doing this! I suppose we don't really have a choice.”

Harry looked over at her as she bit on her lower-lip in the way she did whenever she was thinking about something hard. After Ron had died during their last attempt to retrieve a horcrux, Hermione had become far more cautious. He had simply become more determined to win. And now, almost a year since he had been there with Dumbledore, he had returned to the cave where the Headmaster had drank the potion that had led to his death.

It appeared that the Dark Lord had been far cleverer than Dumbledore that given him credit for. The large cavern with the potion and locket in had been a trick, and the real horcrux was hidden somewhere else in the cave.  Which was why Harry and Hermione had come back to find it and destroy it, before Voldemort's grip on the magical world became too strong to resist.

It didn't look like Hermione would be coming out of her trance anytime soon.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, “We don't have the time for this.”

She looked at him, and for a moment he thought that she might cry, before a steely look crossed her face. She had made up her mind.

“You're right.”

And before Harry could say anything else, she sat down on the ground and began to take off her shoes and socks.

“Er, Hermione…what are you doing?”

“Honestly, Harry” she huffed as she began on her second foot, yanking off the shoe with a tug, “we can hardly swim through that,” she waved her arm at the dark and dangerous-looking waters, “wearing heavy clothes.”

“What?” said Harry, surprised, “Wearing-”

Whatever Harry had been about to say, the words were taken straight out of his mouth as Hermione stood up and pulled her jeans down, resulting in her bending over, causing her firm and rather grabbable arse to point right at Harry, covered only in a surprisingly decorative pair of delicate pink knickers. As she stood up, now dressed only in a tight blue t-shirt and pink panties, a blush spread across her face.

“Well?” she asked while waving her wand at herself, no doubt casting a warming charm, “Are you going to stand there and gawk or are you coming?”

Without any further ado Hermione dived into the water with surprising grace, reminding Harry that she had probably learnt how to swim in the Muggle world. As she began to swim across the large underground pool, Harry resisted watching her from above (not that he could see much) in favour of diving in after her. He had swam through the water with his robes on before; he could do it again.

His robes were heavy as they became soaked with water, but swimming was surprisingly easy and he raced after Hermione, who apparently was taking a more leisurely pace. Once he had caught up with her it was not long before he reached the opposite shore, lifting himself out of the water onto the stone shelf with a heave. It was even darker at this end of the cave, and Harry took his wand from his robes to cast a light spell, just in time to see Hermione emerge from the water, dripping wet.

It appeared that her warming charm had not managed to keep all the cold out, for Harry could not help but notice two small points sticking out from Hermione's chest, made even more visible by the way her tight, wet clothes clung to her like a second skin. Harry looked away, not wanting to be seen staring, and tried to ignore certain stirrings in his crotch as he turned to the portion of stone wall that hid the entrance to the inner cave. When he looked back Hermione had performed a drying charm on herself, to his disappointment.

“We have to go through here,” Harry said as he pulled a small yet sharp knife from his robe. Before Hermione could object, he can swiftly made a shallow cut across his palm and pressed it to the wall, wincing from the sharp stinging pain that small cuts always make. The outline of an archway appeared in shining silver for but a moment before the rock collapsed in on itself, much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, leaving a dark and imposing archway. It was so dark that Harry could see nothing of the other side.

Taking a last deep breath of fresh air, Harry strode determinedly through the arch, his wand lighting the way to reveal a familiar and haunting underground lake. The cavern glowed a faint luminescent green, so similar to the Killing Curse that it made Harry queasy. Checking that Hermione was still close behind him (she was very close), Harry made his way around the edge of the lake until he felt an invisible chain in the air.

“This is it,” he said to Hermione, turning to look at her shadowed face, “No turning back now.”

As they had planned, both got into the invisible boat and it began to sail itself over the lake, ever so slowly. Both Harry and Hermione kept their wands out, ready to cast fiery death at any Inferius that may have stirred. Luckily for them, they reached the small island at the centre of the lake without any trouble.

Harry clambered off the decaying boat as carefully as he could, but he still caused it to rock violently, making Hermione give a small shriek and jump up in surprise, causing the boat to rock even more.

“Jump, Hermione!” shouted Harry, and just in time too: in the moment Hermione jumped from the boat, it tipped too far and the boat began to sink as it let in water. Harry caught Hermione as she fell towards him, tackling him to the ground. They landed in a jumble of limbs and Harry heard a tearing sound as he saw Hermione's previously-tight t-shirt rip along the side, all the way from the hem to underneath her left arm, as it grazed the ground. Harry's eyes were naturally drawn to the tear, his gaze wandering across the smooth bare skin and taking in the hint of a black bra.

He felt Hermione stiffen by his side just as he realised where his hand had landed: high up on her right thigh, with his thumb just brushing the curve of her bum, his fingers curled around her leg so that they were dangerously close to where her legs met. Not daring to move, Harry looked at Hermione as she raised her head, his eyes boring into hers as if he were searching for something hidden within her black pupils. She gave a small shiver, and it seemed to Harry as if she clung closer to him, her breasts pushing up against his chest as she gave a trembling, longing, whisper,


More was spoken in that one word than a thousand words could have conveyed; Harry lowered his face to hers and their lips met in a light yet lingering kiss before Hermione pushed towards him with surprising aggression, turning him on his back as she climbed on top of him, their lips still locked as the kiss increased in intensity. Harry found his hands wandering off the floor where they had fallen uselessly and up onto Hermione, one hand resting upon the small of her back while the other crept downwards to caress the back of her thigh.

It was a perfect moment: one of those moments that lasted for an eternity, but for one problem. There was a very annoying rock sticking into Harry's back. He tried to reposition himself subtly so as to not break the increasingly passionate kiss, but Hermione had him pinned, and in the end had no option but to break away, taking the chance to breathe properly again. As he sat up a bit to move away from the rock, Hermione's mind appeared to have moved on from just kissing, and with surprising speed she peeled her ripped top off over her head and throwing it away haphazardly. Harry could only stare as Hermione manoeuvred herself onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a spectacular view into her plain black bra.

Harry decided in that moment that there was no magic in the world greater than the curve of Hermione's breasts, the line of taught but gloriously soft skin as it sloped enticingly upwards and disappeared into her bra. He even thought he could see a dark shadow that might be her nipple. Fuck Dumbledore and fuck his music - this was the magic beyond any taught at Hogwarts.

This time it was he who initiated the kiss, and once more it started delicate before quickly strengthening to something far wilder. Hermione's hands were undoing the buttons on the front of his robes and Harry, deciding to do something new, kissed his way away from her mouth and along her jaw all the way to her ear, licking the hollow behind her earlobe to the sound of Hermione's breath hitching. He was doing something right.

Unfortunately for Harry, all good things come to an end. Just as he leaned back to go back to her lips, Hermione turned her head an instead all he managed to kiss was her cheek.

“Harry,” she whispered into his ear, her breath sending tingles down his spine. “We can't - can't do this now. We have to get the horcrux.”

And as much as Harry wanted to disagree, he knew she was right. Slowly, awkwardly, Hermione removed herself from him and stood up. Harry followed her example, doing his buttons up as he went. They locked eyes solemnly before Hermione broke into a grin, looking down at her ruined top.

“I don't think there's any salvaging that!”

His spirits lifted and the mood lightened, Harry smiled too and walked over to the stone stand and basin at the centre of the isle. Hermione followed, and Harry couldn't help but notice that she was standing much closer to him now. Shaking his head to get thoughts of Hermione out of his mind - which was hard considering she was now only wearing her underwear - Harry leant over the glowing green potion and brought the image of a snake to the front of his mind, before saying, or rather hissing,


A loud cracking sound resounded through the chamber and both Harry and Hermione jumped backwards in surprise. A deep rumbling followed the crack and the pedestal began to separate in two, right down the middle, and the two halves moved away from each other, causing the potion to pour down the gap formed, like water emptied from a sink. Eventually, the rumbling stopped and with it the plinth stopped moving. Revealed beneath where the stand had been was an underground passageway, slopping downwards into the darkness.

“This is it,” Harry said, a firmness in his voice that belied the events of just a few minutes before. This was the Boy-Who-Lived, not Harry. Taking Hermione's hand in his own, Harry led her forward, down into the darkness, the meagre light of his wand guiding them. The darkness of that passage was more than just a lack of light, but a more aggressive sort of darkness: magically strong too, as it was managing to weaken Harry's light spell.

It turned out that the tunnel was not a long one, and lacked any real magical protections: obviously Voldemort thought that to have got this far, you had to be him. The first sign that the end was near was the slightly pink glow that got stronger and stronger the further they walked. It was not long before Harry could see it: a chamber, about a hundred metres away, emanating pink light. Sensing his goal, Harry picked up his pace until he was almost dragging Hermione along behind him. As he burst into the chamber proper, Harry got his first real look at the source of the strange light, and knew that he was about to be one step closer to defeating Voldemort.

There, floating in the air at about chest height, rotating around in a figure of eight, was Voldemort's final horcrux: his strawberry Popsicle of Doom. It was possibly the most enchanted object in the history of wizardkind - impervious to any harm, magical or physical; it would never melt, and to top it all off it was bursting full of flavour. It glowed with an inner power, and the light filtered through the strawberry flavoured ice to make the strange pink radiance that filled the room. According to Harry's informant, it was Voldemort's most prized possession, and when he felt like celebrating a great victory, he would come down to his cave and give it a lick.

“I can't believe it,” Hermione whispered, reverence in her voice, “it's Voldemort's lollipop.”

“Yes, Hermione,” said Harry grimly, “it's Voldemort's loli, and we are here to destroy it.”

Dismay came over Hermione's face at the thought of destroying something so beautiful, but she controlled herself before Harry could see, and adopted the same serious tone.

“You're right, Harry. It has to be destroyed. But how?”

“It's resistant to all conventional forms of magic, but luckily for us, Voldemort was wildly ignorant of the deepest magic there is.”

Harry turned to Hermione as he said this, taking both of her hands in his own.

“My informant tells me that there is but one way to destroy the lollipop: it must be used for a good purpose. Since Voldemort knows no love, this will be his undoing.”

Hermione nodded in acceptance. It sounded like the kind of think Dumbledore would have said. Except maybe without the part about a lollipop.

“The only think I've yet to work out,” continued Harry, “is what we can use the Popsicle for to destroy it. I mean, there isn't a massive range of options, is there?”

They both fell into silence as they considered this. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione biting her lip as she appeared to consider something. Maybe she had an idea?

“I have an idea,” declared Hermione, clearing that conundrum up. And before telling Harry anything, before he could even ask her what her idea was, Hermione backed away from Harry a few steps and, her eyes never leaving Harry's, began to push one bra strap over her shoulder, and then the other. Harry was still confused, but confident that Hermione had a plan he too took a few steps back to lean against a wall. He wanted to enjoy the show.

For a moment, Hermione looked down at the floor, suddenly shy, but then looked back up again with a smile on her face as she moved her arms behind her back, pushing her chest out nicely. A moment later and the back of Hermione's bra was undone; she swiftly disposed herself of it and moved her hands to cover her own breasts, which didn't stop Harry from catching a glimpse of them bobbing wonderfully as she took the bra off.

After a moment of holding herself, which had the pleasant side effect of squashing the tops of her breasts upwards, Hermione let her hands fall to her side, giving Harry his first proper view of her form. She wasn't large, but not small either, and Harry thought she fit herself perfectly, the rounded sides of her breasts just curving enough to break the lines of her side. Two small, slightly upward-pointing nipples finished her off nicely, though Harry was disappointed to see that they weren't hard like they had been earlier.

“Like what you see?” Hermione asked, no doubt trying to sound confident, but the nervousness in her voice was clear. Harry just nodded in response, but it was enough for Hermione. She turned to face him sideways and looked downwards at herself as she put her thumbs into the band of her knickers, pulling them down gently until they fell to her knees. She then stepped out of them, after a few attempts, and turned her face to look at Harry, her hair framing her face artfully.

Harry let his eyes roam over Hermione's naked body greedily, taking in the gentle slope of her stomach leading downwards to the triangle of neat hair between her legs; taking in the way her side met her hips in a long curving line that emphasised her pert arse; taking in the fold where toned leg met firm buttock. She was perfect.

“So…what's the plan?” Harry asked, his voice just as shaky as Hermione's had been.

Instead of answering, Hermione just walked over to the Popsicle, her every movement mesmerising Harry, and plucked it out of the air, causing the pink light to dim slightly. It was already losing power!

After turning it over in her hands a few time, Hermione brought the Popsicle to her mouth and let her tongue give it a long, languid, lick from base to tip, her eyes widening as she tasted its incredible flavour.

“No wonder Voldemort guarded it so fiercely!” she exclaimed. “It has flavour!”

And with that she plunged the loli into her mouth, sucking upon it with all her might. Harry may have given out a groan as he saw a drop of juice melt off from the Popsicle by the side of Hermione's mouth and run down her chin, not even realising that the lollipop wasn't supposed to be able to melt.

Gazing seductively at Harry from under her eyelashes, her head pointed slightly downwards, Hermione slowly took the Popsicle from her mouth, her lips forming a perfect ring around it as it slipped out. Still looking at Harry, she let the tip of the loli glide down her neck to one of her breasts, where she moved it in a spiral around herself before letting it graze her nipple. She let out a gasp as it touched, most likely from the cold more than anything else, but both her nipples automatically tightened and hardened.

Not lingering overly long on her breasts, she placed the Popsicle in the valley between them and brought it downwards over her ribs and stomach slowly, leaving a sticky trail of melted sweetness behind. She paused briefly to circle her belly button, but was wasting no time in bringing it lower. Finally, the stick was between her legs and she rubbed it back and forth between her lips slowly, gasping in shock from the cold. After a few more rubs she lowered herself so she was kneeling on the ground.

“Help me, Harry?” she asked, and Harry needed no second request. He moved over to her and knelt in front of her, placing one hand on her hip and letting the other clutch her back, before he kissed her hard, putting all his desire and frustrations into the kiss. A slight taste of strawberry lingered on her lips. As Harry kissed her, Hermione's hand began moving again, more enthusiastically this time, and Harry let one of his hands drift upwards and stroke the side of her breast, causing her eyes to widen and a gasp of breath to be drawn in. If possible, her nipple became more pointed than before, and Harry let his thumb brush over it.

Hermione leaned into Harry as she gained a rhythm, and Harry let his hand fall down from her breast to between her legs, taking the Popsicle from her, before positioning it at her entrance. A single nod from Hermione was all it took for Harry to begin pushing, the lollipop sliding in, lubricated by its own juices, stretching Hermione as Harry continued to push, though he had to rearrange his angle more than once. Once he though he had pushed for long enough, he began to slide the stick out, a bit faster than he had pushed it in, and Hermione's hand gripped his gently as she guided him.

Harry didn't know how long they knelt there, but he remembered very clearly Hermione deciding to lean backwards to lie on her back, her knees beginning to ache; he remembered clearly Hermione's hand leaving his own as he got the idea and moving to the top of her folds to stoke herself in a circle; he remembered Hermione's hips starting to thrust gently against his hand as he used the loli on her, then more forcefully; he remembered everything, every detail imprinted upon his mind forever, from the smell of sex and sweat in the air, all tinted with strawberry, to the taste of Hermione's skin as he leant over to kiss his way up to her lips, to the feel of her tongue as it moved against his, to the increasingly loud squeaks and moans of pleasure coming from Hermione's mouth as she got closer and closer and closer and closer until:


Hermione's hips bucked one more time, she shouted one last word, her hands tried in vain to grasp the rocks of the cave floor, her legs tightened their grip around Harry and the light of the Popsicle - Voldemort's last horcrux - went out.

The Horcrux was destroyed.