Harry Potter NR.0 - Sex Stories

Harry Potter NR.0

... found someone that could keep up with her. "What was I thinking? Of course he thinks I'm a freak! He got about five words out before I started talking about curriculums and the Renaissance. Just like the rest. Oh, why do I even try?" Harry watched an expression that was very familiar to him fly across her face until she put on a neutral expression. It was only there for a moment, but it was there all the same. It was the expression of a friend's betrayal, of finding out that someone you trusted was just using you. Harry knew it well. He had made many 'friends' when he was younger that would inevitably sell him out and join in on Harry Hunting. And it killed him inside that he was the caused that feeling with someone else. As he went over his last statement, his brain caught up with his stupidity. "Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant was, are you a magic user?" Harry hoped she would believe him, and not run away crying the way it looked like she wanted to. She sniffled. "What are you talking about?" She asked, angrily. She was busy wiping away the beginnings of a tear, but it looked like she was willing to hear him out. "You don't know? Okay, you're just like me, then." Harry waited for Hermione to look him directly in the eyes. "Have you ever done anything unusual? Something that you thought was impossible, but it happened anyway? Something with no logical explanation?" Hermione stared at him. "I—once my mum's hair turned into bits of rope when she wouldn't let me stay ...

... up to watch Monty Python..." She looked highly embarrassed to admit this. Harry did not know who Monty Python was, but if he was worth an argument with her parents, he must be very smart. "How did you know about that?" "I felt your magic. Earlier, in the classroom, and right before you yelled at me just now for ignoring you. That's what made me look up. You got angry at me, and you must have been just on the edge of accidentally using magic on me." "And you're a witch?" she asked, still highly doubtful. "Of course not! Only girls are witches! I'm a sorcerer," he said, then mumbled, "Yes, I'm a witch. What were you thinking? "Anyway, do you think your parents could do it?" Harry asked, hoping to find someone that could tell him about it. "I think mine might have been able to. But I'm pretty much just guessing about that." "Well, why don't you ask them?" Hermione asked. "Oh. They were killed, you see. I live—or at least I'm supposed to be—with my aunt and uncle, and they don't like me asking about my parents, let alone starting a conversation about magic and sorcerers." "Supposed to be?" "Oops. Oh, well. I would have to show you anyway if I'm going to teach you about magic." "You're going to teach me?" Hermione asked hopefully. She loved learning things, and this sounded like something that not just anyone could do. "Could you show me something now?" "Why don't you have a cookie first?" Harry held out his brown paper bag. Hermione saw something in Harry's smile that said he was ...