Meeting Half Way

You know, I really have to be careful about the things I joke about.

About 24 hours ago (give or take an hour or two) I was talking to an old friend/lover in San Diego I had recently reconnected with who mentioned (to my amazement) that there exists (and in great quantity, yet!) Harry Potter slash.

Slash is, for the uninitiated who may stumble into this, a rather fascinating sub-genre of fan-fiction, stories written based on the various "universes" created by others, such as Star Trek, Babylon 5, Star Wars, and so forth. It's main difference is that it puts the various characters into explicitly sexual situations, sometimes in unlikely combinations.

So, here are these examples of (ack!) Draco Malfoy and Harry getting it on (ewww!), or Harry and Ron (at least a bit more realistic) as far as the characters were concerned. Not exactly a turn-on, though this is where the joke comes in...I make this crack how I'd like to see slash of a meeting between Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures instructor at Hogwarts, and Madame Maxime.

And then...damned if the whole damn story didn't just pop into my head. I even figured out how to keep the one motif that would make it true Harry Potter slash, since (as anyone who's read the books knows) all action takes place only in Harry's presence. How could I get two adults together involving Harry...without INVOLVING Harry? What can I say, I have trouble with jail bait situations, even in a fantasy context.

So here I am with a completed first draft in excess of 6000 words. What makes this especially annoying is that this is literally the first piece I've actually completed in over a year, since my Horotica experiment "Faker".

A disclaimer: all actors are portrayed by human beings over the age of 18 (neener...I got that one from "Queer as Folk"). This is a work of PARODY, and as such protected by that pesky first amendment thingy. All characters are the property and copyright of JK Rowling, who is in no way responsible for the perversity displayed here.

Harry awoke from the nightmare with a start. He had been having these horrific dreams, almost bordering on night terrors, since his encounter with Voldemort during the dark lord's ressurection.

He never could recall many details from the dream, just a sense of foreboding and helplessness borne of the feeling there was little he could do. Compounded with this was the mere idea of contending with the Dursley's, even if Mrs. Weasley's invitation to join that family for the latter part of the summer holiday did indeed come to pass.

Harry rubbed his arm where Wormtail had sliced it. Even though Madam Pomfrey had completely mended it with magic, Harry suspected that the foul use the wound and the blood that had sprung forth from it had somehow left a mark deeper than could be seen. Harry wondered if it would become like his scarred forehead, causing him phantom pain whenever Voldemort did something particularly heinous, or was nearby.

Wide awake now, Harry sat up in bed, pondering what to do. Ron was asleep, snoring loudly. Almost certainly anyone Harry could talk to would be in a similar state.

The darkness of the room just seemed oppressive, making him feel claustrophobic and fidgety. Grabbing his Cloak of Invisibility (an item dear not only for it's power of hiding it's wearer from sight, but also by virtue of it being his father, murdered by Lord Voldemort 13 years before), he wrapped himself in it and slipped down the stairs to the common room.

A small fire still smoldered in the fireplace there, tended to (no doubt) by the house elves. Quietly, he opened the portrait of the fat lady in pink (who was leaning to one side in curlers, snoring). He would have to disturb her later when he returned, which would be unfortunate. At least he should be able to get back to sleep himself after a walk cleared his mind.

He briefly toyed with the idea of heading for the kitchens through the secret way that Fred and George Weasley has divulged to the trio earlier that year, but decided he wasn't hungry. Besides, with his luck trying to sleep on a full stomach would bring forth even more bad dreams.

He couldn't have wandered more than a few minutes when he came across one of the windows that overlooked one of the outer yards, one adjoining Hagrid's cottage. To Harry's surprise he saw that the cottage windows appeared to be lit. "Hagrid's still trying to figure out what blast ended skrewt's are good for...other than being an obstacle during a wizarding tournament." Harry thought to himself. Suddenly hungry for some sort of companionship, Harry decided to make his way there. At the very least it was a beautiful, clear night: Even if Hagrid was actually sleeping, the fresh air could only help to clear his head.

"Of course," Harry chuckled to himself, "I guess my head's already clear, isn't it?"

The walk to the outside was mostly uneventful, with only one near run-in with Filch's cat. Even the notoriously stringent caretaker would probably show considerable leniency toward Harry considering the recent events, though he would probably insist on escorting him back to his room, and Harry wasn't ready to return to sleep.

For a moment the image of Cedric Diggory, lying still on the ground, flashed across his mind. Taking a deep breath and trying to banish the vision, Harry skirted the hallway down which the cat strode, and once again wished that he had his Marauder's Map to tell him where Filch -- or anyone else, for that matter -- was.

As it turned out there were no other problems, and soon Harry was walking toward to cottage, the full moon still high in the dark velvet sky.

Approaching the front door, Harry was alarmed to see it ajar. Understandably paranoid, Harry wished he had thought to bring his wand. He sidled up to the opening to peer inside.

It certainly didn't appear as if anything was amiss. The fire was still burning brightly, and there were candles hovering about the cottage. In fact, a very large number of candles. Standing on the table harry could see...a wine glass? This struck him as odd -- Hagrid was more of a rough hewn tankard type.

Slowly edging the door open, Harry ducked inside quickly. "Hagrid?" he called, quietly at first, then a bit louder. As he called, he noticed that there was a second wine glass on the table, with what looked like blood on the edge.

Alarmed, Harry walked to the table, standing on his toes to peer over the edge. To his surprise, it wasn't blood, but an impression of two very large lips -- lipstick? But the only person Harry could think of who would have the mouth to match those marks would be...

Suddenly, Harry could hear the sound of laughter coming from the partly opened door, along with the sound of Hagrid's voice. Feeling suddenly guilty, Harry started. Should he try and make the door before Hagrid walked in on him? No, wait, there was the back door...if he could make it to that door before they entered, thus seeing it open and close...

Even as he rushed toward the door, however, he heard the front door swing wide. "I can't Believe I was stupid enough to leave the door unbarred like that", came Hagrid's gravelly voice. "Just distracted, I guess". A low toned, but decidedly female giggle answered him.

Looking to his right, Harry noticed an open door. Perhaps there was a window he could climb through discreetly there. Without turning about, he ducked into the possible refuge.

If possible, there were even more candles burning in there, and the unmistakable smell of some sort of incense. Harry felt his face flush...what HAD he stumbled in on? It was obviously not Hagrid's bedroom, even containing as it did one of the biggest bed's he had ever seen. Easily twice as long as a king sized bed and unbelievably wide, there seemed to be no way it could fit in a cottage this size. In fact, Harry could recall seeing neither it nor this room from any of his many visits previous to this one, and now he devoutly wished he never had.

At first glance there seemed to be no windows at all, but there was a set of doors to the far side of the bed. Harry began walking to it, hoping it was either another exit, or at least a way to another room.

The sounds of muted conversation and giggles seemed to be coming toward the bedroom, so he would have to act fast. Walking around the expanse of bed, Harry opened one of the doors.

Inside there was darkness. Apparently it was a closet of some kind...or, knowing Hagrid's fondness for dangerous creatures, perhaps it was a pen. It didn't seem like such a good idea to walk into a dark room where Hagrid was involved, but it didn't look as if he would have much choice.

Ducking in, he closed the door just as the bedroom door was swept open, revealing Hagrid dressed in his best clothing and escorting none other than...Madame Maxime!

For indeed it had been HER lips that had left the lipstick on the wine glass outside. Momentarily forgetting the rather embarrassing spot he was in, Harry found himself being happy for Hagrid for apparently making peace with the headmistress of Beauxbatons.

For Hagrid had attempted to embrace Madame Maxime as someone like himself...a half giant, the offspring of a wizard and one of the mis-understood beings who often far exceeded the size of either Hagrid or Madame Maxime. The two of them were to try and work with the race of giants while Harry was away on holiday, so it was important that hey get along. But that first time in the garden, during the holiday ball, had been disastrous: Because of the fear of persecution Madame Maxime had proclaimed herself merely "big-boned", an outlandish claim that was accepted in part thanks to the very prejudice that engendered it. She was a cultured, intelligent, well-spoken woman, and everyone knew that giants were uncouth, murderous and ungainly. Madame Maxime was also beautiful, albeit large.

Now it looked as though they had both put that rejection behind them. FAR behind them.

They were gazing into each other's eyes adoringly, holding each other's hands now. Harry felt his face flush...he really had to find a way out of here. Not for the first time he wished he could disapparate, but even that ability to instantly transport him elsewhere would have been in vain. As Herminone was so found of pointing out, you couldn't apperate on the Hogwarts grounds.

To Harry's surprise, Hagrid was looking around the room as if he had never seen it before himself. "'ow, this is amazin'!"

Maxime dimpled, a surprisingly delightful thing to see. "Do you like it? It's an old spell, and not 'ard to teach..."

Hagrid's face fell. "Well, rightly speakin' I shouldn't be practicin' magic..."

"None of zat, now! You are going to need all ze 'elp you can get. I will speak to dumbly-dorr about it in ze morning. For now..."

To Harry's horror, she closed and bolted the door with a wave of her wand. Now that it was shut, he could see no obvious door handle or lock...apparently the only way that door would open would be through magic.

Now he REALLY wished he had brought his wand.

It was quite a predicament. Harry was sure he shouldn't see what he was possibly about to see. He was also highly embarrassed to come forward now, and also afraid it would damage the relationship that Hagrid was obviously developing. He was pretty clear on what would happen next -- Harry had picked up a bit on the "facts of life" while perusing various strange books his Uncle Vernon had thought he had thoroughly hidden, some with some very graphic illustrations. Harry spent hours while locked away at the Dursley's at 4 Privet Drive, experimenting with the things that all healthy boy's his age experimented with, even after starting at Hogwarts...he could only study magic for so long before being distracted by fantasies involving Cho Chang at school, or (perhaps more disturbing) the things he saw in the showers after Quidditch practice. He was pretty certain Fred and George shouldn't be doing some of the things he had witnessed through the steam.

Yet those were times when Harry was both supposed to be there AND visible. Curiosity aside, he had to find a way to escape this situation.

He would just wait until Madame Maxime put down the wand, and Harry would find some way to create a diversion, perhaps causing either of them to open the door somehow...yet that, too would break the mood, wouldn't it?

Resigning himself, Harry pondered ways he could stuff something in his ears and cover his eyes if things came to that. Relieved that, since this room was apparently the creation of Madame Maxime, this closet was probably just that (a closet), Harry began to feel about in the dark for something useful.

He couldn't help glancing up at a sudden gasp from the headmistress. Hagrid was sitting on the end of the bed, and had pulled her close to him, his great arms barely making it around her wide waist. At first, Harry couldn't see what had caused her exclamation, until they turned slightly to reveal...

Harry felt his cheeks burn as he looked away. Hagrid had his faced pressed against one of Madame Maxime's mammoth breasts, and appeared to be chewing on something through the fabric. She was now making soft cooing noises, while Hagrid was grunting into her bosom. The sound of a great weight settling onto the bed caused Harry to look again, curious in spite of himself.

Hagrid had leaned back, his legs still bent over the end of the bed. Madame Maxime was now on all fours above him, fully on the bed, her head back. Harry couldn't see what Hagrid was doing, but from the half-giantesses moans it was something pleasant. Hagrid had begun to pull up the big womans robes, revealing lacey black bloomers that clung tightly to her solid calves. Some of the louder thuds Harry had heard were the assorted footwear the couple had pulled off and tossed aside, because he could now see that her feet were already almost bare, one stocking hastily pulled only part way off before passion had overtaken them both.

Returning quickly to his search, Harry found what seemed to be an assortment of wide belts with buckles and oddly shaped large candles...nothing useful for his purposes. That, and the squeaking mattress, vocalizations and rustling on the other side of the closet door eventually led Harry to look again, youthful interest in a forbidden topic a strong inducement to over-coming his fear of discovery.

Harry was stunned to see that Madame Maxime's robes had been pulled completely off, leaving only her bloomers. For a second Harry couldn't make out Hagrid's position, but realizing that the two great appendages pointing away from Madame's head were Hagrid's feet, He realized that she had to be straddling Hagrid's head. Fascinated, Harry looked there to see what Hagrid could be doing, or (at the very least) to see if he was still able to breath.

That's when Harry got his first glimpse of an adult female's exposed vagina. Apparently, the bloomers were what one of Uncle Vernon's books called "crotchless".

Hagrid had reached up from between her legs and had spread the bloomers open, and was nibbling the insides of Madame Maxime's upper-inner thighs, both the size of a fairly well grown tree.

For her part, madame Maxime was pulling at Hagrid's belt with her teeth, worrying it like a terrier with a rat. With a triumphant grunt, she got it undone, and pulled up enough for Harry to see that she was completely topless.

Wrong or not to be there, Harry was enthralled by her mammoth breasts. The first thing about them was how SOLID they were for their size: They were round and full, with incredible well defined nipples the size of washbasin spigots. In fact, now that he saw her disrobed, Harry realized that madame Maxime truly was "big-boned" in the sense that there appeared to be almost no excess flesh as far as he could see. Her loose robes disguised the fact that, under the makeup and feminine trappings, she was a true giantess, perhaps as strong as Hagrid. Well padded, true, but it was the healthy padding of a professional weight lifter.

She leaned back forward, leaving Harry to ponder her vast, powerful shoulders. For the first time he realized that there was an odd sensation in his belly, stronger than he had ever felt before...surely he wasn't becoming excited by all of this!

Before he could think further on it, Madame Maxime was back up, forcing down Hagrid pants enough to reveal a gargantuan penis, already firm and pointing upward. As it broke free, it reminded Harry of the snake he had inadvertently freed so many years before.

Harry didn't know where to look, as Hagrid had shifted his hands to spread Madame Maxime open. Her voluminous inner lips looked almost as big as Harry's head, and her nubbin was almost as large as...well, to his surprise, it was bigger than Harry's own, not fully developed, cock. Extending his tongue further than could be possible, Hagrid began to gently flick about this protuberance with obvious gusto.

Madame Maxime started at this, and spoke to Hagrid over her right shoulder. "'agrid, dear, if you please, a little less direct at first!"

Hagrid stopped, apologizing. "Sorry 'bout dat. It's been a long time for me...I guess I got a little over-eager".

Eyes twinkling, Madame Maxime smiled in a way that should have melted every candle in the room instantaneously, saying "Not a problem, 'agrid...it is nice to be so desirable...oh!"

Hagrid was now working his tongue in a long slow lick around her inner labia, distracting her for a moment or two. Her large eyelids were now drooping, what little eye visible now rolling back into her head.

Invisibility cloak clasped tightly around him, absently smoothing the front of his robes that kept threatening to tent out, Harry watched, all thoughts of escape forgotten. All the dirty books and french postcards in the world could not have conveyed the intensity of what he was seeing.

Hagrid was tightening the circular motion of his tongue now, circling in on the large clit like a seeker sneaking up on a golden snitch, getting closer...closer...and then sucking it into his mouth, causing the woman to shudder, only this time with apparently pleasure.

Arching her back more than she should've been able to, Madame Maxime began to yell forth intelligibly (for the most part). Grinding down so firmly Harry worried for his friend's life, she started to bounce up and down on Hagrid's face until she seemed unable even to draw a breath herself.

The moment seemed to hang there, like Madame Maxime, until she hurled herself suddenly forward, taking huge, gasping breaths. Glancing down at Hagrid, he seemed none the worse for the experience...in fact, he was grinning madly, his face a bit red and his beard positively soaked.

It took a few moments for Madame Maxime to compose herself, but only just. Going from almost a look of bonelessness to sense of urgency, she began to tease the head of Hagrid's penis with her tongue.

It was almost as if she were able to speak Parseltongue and Hagrid's enormous member a snake. Seemingly weaving in time with the motion of her mouth and tongue, it began to swell even further, becoming less supple as it became engorged with his growing excitement.

Harry couldn't believe it could get any larger than it already was, but it did. Even in the perspective of the two half-giants it was huge. As she ran her mouth along the edges of the growing rod, the head seemed to bloom like a mushroom, as big as Harry's actual head...the one on top of his shoulders, not the one insistent on getting attention that Harry was suddenly painfully aware of. It seemed so...small.

Of course, it wasn't fair to compare himself to what he was seeing here. He might as well compare himself to a dragon's cock as to Hagrid's.

The object of his musing was now being slowly squeezed and stroked in Madame Maxime's hand, which barely made it's way around the base. Madame Maxime was eyeing it with a look that made Harry think of the way he would look at a particularly luscious cake or ice cream sundae. She even licked her lips in apparent anticipation of a treat.

Harry didn't think she could possibly get that monster into her mouth, but with a jaw creaking expression that looked as if she were yawning widely, the headmistress took it into her mouth almost half way to Hagrid's crotch before backing off. Hagrid's eyes bulged at the sensation of being consumed so, his hands grasping at her bum as if trying to hold himself in place...not that he could go far with Madame's bulk laying atop him like that!

With every swallow of Hagrid's penis, Madame Maxime managed to get a little bit more into her throat, occasionally pausing to make a sound like a small "gulp!". Harry supposed she was trying to take all of it down, and was trying to overcome the impulse to gag. Idly, Harry wondered if it would be possible to cast a spell to suppress that reflex.

Hagrid was offering words of encouragement as she kept working him. "Oh yea...that's it. Wow...no one's ever...oh...OH! OLYMPE!"

That last was accompanied by Madame Maxime taking the last few inches of Hagrid's manhood down her throat, her nose now buried in a full mat of pubic hair that looked remarkably like Hagrid's beard. For a moment they seemed to hold a pose, every muscle in Hagrid's body rigid. He even seemed to be holding his breath as if unwilling to risk breaking the moment.

Then she pulled off, swallowed hard...and forced herself back down. She began to repeat this, faster and faster, inducing great bellows of pleasure from hagrid. Not for the first time Harry hoped the spell that had conjured Madame Maxime boudoir included sound proofing.

Hagrid's legs had begun to pull up somewhat, and now he was thrusting into Madame Maxime with such force that it appeared he was physically lifting her from the bed. Wrapping her arms about his waist, she was holding on to Hagrid's buttocks for dear life.

Suddenly letting out a roar that made harry clap his hands to his ears (as it was they rang for days afterwards), Hagrid began to ejaculate into Madame Maxime's waiting mouth. At first still fully down her throat, Harry could see her swallowing as fast as she could. She slowly backed off the throbbing cock, gently suckling as she went to keep him going, but apparently the deluge was too much for her, and she came away from it, gasping for air, holding Hagrid's dick in one hand that was still gently squeezing the base.

Still it was pumping in her hand, sending great jets of whitish fluid into the air. Once splash hit Madame Maxime square in the breasts and face like a bucket of milk being tossed against a wall before she could get it pointed upward. Hagrid came for what seemed like another minute before the geyser like squirting finally subsided. She tried her best to lap up the juice from Hagrid, until her face was almost as wet as Hagrid's had been.

Rolling to one side, she and Hagrid lay beside one another, spent from the massive effort. Harry wasn't sure how long the love making had gone on, but it surely could've been no less than an hour.

Harry saw his chance to find Maxime's wand and make his escape. Quietly as he could, he began to come out of the closet, only to be brought up short by a sudden movement from the bed. "I'm sorry, m'love, but it takes me a bit to recover. You know I would love to..." Hagrid was apparently answering a question Madame Maxime had whispered into his ear.

Harry barely had time to jump back through the door and close it over as Madame Maxime sat up with a big smile. "But, 'agrid dear, zis is not a problem". Leaning over, she felt around in her robes. To Harry's dismay she pulled forth he very wand that was Harry's original goal. "First, I zink we are both 'over-dressed'.

She waved the wand over her head in a circular motion, and suddenly the two reclining forms were completely devoid of a single thread. Bringing the wan forward, pointing it at Hagrid's deflated, but still gigantic rod, and incanted "Engorgium!"

A a stream of purple sparks sprayed from the wand, and Hagrid's penis seemed to glow purple and swell like a balloon being filled with air from a power compressor.

After an initial expression of fear, Hagrid was delighted. "Oho, dearie! Neat trick...WHOA!"

Madame Maxime, demonstrating an athletic ability and grace that left Harry's jaw hanging open, jumped up and straddled Hagrid's waist, causing several of the candles to scuttle out of the way as if in anticipation. As lightly as a balloon on the end of a string, she settled her incredible bulk over Hagrid's refreshed erection, sitting on it with a soft moan. Hagrid's face glowed with a joy Harry hadn't seen since he had witnessed the birth of Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback dragon that Hagrid had hatched from an egg illegally obtained years earlier.

The cunny that seemed cavernous to Harry when Hagrid was licking her to orgasm earlier now was dwarfed as she slowly impaled herself upon his firmness, spreading open to accommodate the sheer size of it. The young wizard couldn't imagine how she could take it all there, even after the amazing demonstration of fellatio he had seen mere minutes before.

But take it she did, and soon she was riding the giant with all her might, Hagrid holding on to her waist, his eyes growing bigger by the moment. Almost as if it were planned, the head mistress fell backward, and Hagrid rolled forward...Now her thick legs were in the air to either side of his pelvic thrusting, her head hanging over the end of the bed, her hair hanging free from her severe bun for the first time since Harry had first seen her arrive in her flying carriage.

Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open. Harry felt drawn to the sight, as if it were compelling him to come closer. The thought entered his head, unbidden, that perhaps she was so enthralled by what was happening she wouldn't notice if he... he... snuck over and picked up her wand, now lying near the bed, apparently forgotten.

On his way to the wand, he could picture her large, flushed face, getting closer. The heat of her breath as it blew over Harry like a hot summer wind would blow up his robes, and he would draw closer to her still...until that great tongue was lolling over his body the way it had Hagrid's cock, licking him up and down until...

With a start, Harry realized he had come all over the inside of his robes. He hadn't yet left the space in which he was hidden. Suddenly feeling ashamed of what he was thinking, he drew the closet door closed. While he couldn't block out the sounds of the couple's cry's and grunts as they came together for the second time that night (and the first time simultaneously), he would at least show some measure of respect.

It took them another 15 minutes for the moment to arrive, the two of them encouraging each other with endearments, until the only word they both could say was "Yes...yes...YES!!!", and with a roar and a scream (Harry never did figure out which did which) that rattled the entire closet and its contents, they climaxed.

For a long while there was panting and much catching of breath, and then a rustle of bed sheets and the sound of kissing that for them would probably be considered "light", but for smaller sorts would probably cause serious bruising. After a time, they began to talk and chuckle with each other quietly again. Harry couldn't make anything out, until:

"'agrid, dearest, do you trust me?"

"Why o' course I trust ya! What kind of...Oh!"

More rustling, and the sound of the bed creaking. Then there were sounds that Harry couldn't decipher, all the while with Madame Maxime speaking to Hagrid in a soothing way. What on earth could they be doing now?

Then there were the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the closet in which Harry hid. In a panic the boy wrapped the cloak about himself tightly, and pushed as far toward the back as he could go. "I'm invisible," He reminded himself, "as long as I don't panic, I'll be fine!"

Then the doors of the closet were both flung open, illuminating the objects stored there for the first time.

What Harry had supposed where buckles, were indeed such...but not on any belt he had ever seen. There were odd looking harnesses hung up along the back of the closet, and a few things that looked like harnesses made out of some sort of leather. Not cow leather, for the sheer size of them belied the biggest cattle Harry could think of. Perhaps they were made of dragon hide.

Then he saw the items he had thought to be candles, and Harry almost forgot himself and yelped. Only biting down on his tongue saved him from making a mistake that would have given himself away.

They were some sort of toys, all obviously intended for uses in the bedroom, some as big as Harry himself. The realization that Madame Maxime could have used him as a sort of sex toy both horrified and intrigued Harry.

And there, before him closer than ever, was Madam Maxime, looking over her possessions with an appraising eye. First, she pulled down a particularly complex looking harness, one with an odd opening in the front. Next, she seemed to look straight at Harry...and Harry felt his heart stop as she seemed to actually see him.

As she reached forward, Harry realized that he must be siting in front of the very item she wanted. What rotten luck!

Hoping that she wouldn't notice the noise as he moved, Harry dropped down and lay as flat as could. He could smell the heavy scent of sex on Madame Maxime's arm as she reached over his prostrate form to grab an especially life like representation of a gigantic phallus. Then it happened: Her arm brushed against the front of Harry's cloak, which (to his utter chagrin) had tented yet again!

Holding his breath, Harry waited for her to say something. But she didn't seem to notice. As he sighed in relief, she removed the toy. Turning away, Harry was presented with a close look at the amazing girth of her ass, well padded over the ripple of strong muscles underneath. He almost had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching her...and found himself staining his robes for a second time that evening.

Watching the two great hams as they rocked as she walked away from him, Harry could hear her say to Hagrid "Just one moment, dear one...I believe I left an important item in my bag in ze other room."

Harry then noticed that Hagrid was apparently bound to the bed by a massive set of leather cuffs! Harry felt concern for the man, wondering if somehow Madame Maxime had less than noble motives. But now, the bedroom door was opening at her beckoning, and Harry realized he had a chance to escape!

As he edged from the now open closet door, Harry felt torn. If his friend was in trouble, he was honor bound to save him. Yet, what could he do against the large woman without his wand? And was Hagrid really in trouble after all? He wasn't making any move to try and escape, and in fact seemed very content to wait.

Making his way through the open doorway Hagrid called out. "'Urray, love! Before I change me mind! "

He certainly didn't sound like a man in trouble. Still feeling doubtful, Harry found himself back in the cabin he knew well, to find Madame Maxime sitting casually by the fire, already wearing the harness, and once again looking straight at him.

For a second Harry thought it was just another coincidence, when the giantess gestured with her finger toward him.

Harry's heart sank. He was sure that there were serious consequences for the kind of transgression he had committed tonight -- what, he couldn't be sure.

When he had drawn close enough, she whispered to him in a low voice. "Meet me tomorrow evening, by my carriage." she then leaned over and, to his surprise smiled at him in a way that made his heart flutter in an entirely different...and not altogether unpleasant...way. "Don't worry, little one. I only wish to talk to you."

Hagrid made a pleading noise from the bedroom. With a gesture, a bottle of some sort of thick fluid appeared in her hand. With a start Harry realized it was something standing in the closet he had just made an escape from. She was giving him a way out all along!

She strode back into the room, pausing to turn and give him a wink. She then adjusted the harness, and Harry could the toy hanging from the front. Gesturing with her wand, the toy suddenly seemed more like it was a part of her...and Harry suspected that, magically, it now was. With another wink, she closed the bedroom door, hiding her (and her intentions with Hagrid) from sight.

Hoping that the sound proofing worked both ways, Harry beat a hasty exit. Not caring if he was discovered or not, he ran back to the Gryffindor dormitory, where he was surprised to discover he had been gone nearly three hours.

Climbing back into his bedclothes, Harry sank into bed greatfully. He was so exhausted he didn't have time to fret over what Madame Maxime had to say to him. If she intended to scold him for his impudence, he certainly could not blame her. As it was, he was so tired he fell into a deep and (thankfully) dreamless sleep, his bad dreams from earlier in the evening long forgotten.

Harry was incredibly relieved for the lack of classes the following day. He doubted he could concentrate for a moment, what with the possible impending doom he faced. He couldn't even share his troubles with Ron and Hermione, as it would mean telling them even the smallest bit of what he saw, and he wasn't sure how either of them would react.

He also recalled, to his great shame, the fact that a part of him...certainly a lower part, but a part nonetheless...had enjoyed what he saw.

Saying that he needed some more rest from his trials at the tri-wizard tournament, Harry begged off of breakfast (it was not hard to be convincing, what considering how little sleep he had gotten the night before) and kept to his bed for most of the day. As it was, evening could not come fast enough. He wanted to get this over with. At least during the evening feast, as Dumbledore made his toast to Cedric, he saw that Hagrid was there, and appeared quite well. He didn't seem to sit once for the entire meal, however.

As the sun began to set, Harry set off to find Madame Maxime. Her vast carriage was in one of the fields near the lake, the massive flying palominos stamping and nickering amongst themselves. As he approached he could see her, sitting next to it as promised -- robed, this time...though he couldn't help remembering what lay hidden beneath all that fabric, what that silk and satin caressed.

She smiled when she saw him, which confused him as it had the night before. "'arry! So good of you to come...again."

Harry felt himself flush. She couldn't have known...could she? "M...Madame Maxime..." he stammered, "I just want to say how sorry...I mean, it was completely unintentional..."

The headmistress cut him off with a wave of her big hand. "Oh, you zink I am angry with you? My poor boy...come to Madame Maxime!"

Startled by this turn of events, Harry came closer. With the same quickness she had displayed the night before, she brought harry close to her firmly, pressing him into her breasts with a gentleness that belied her great strength. "Sweet 'arry...it is true, 'agrid would be mortified to discover zat you saw what happened last night...he is, in so many ways, a bit...sheltered?...but, as you saw he is definitely a man...and quite willing to learn." The last she said in a way that made it clear that a lot of teaching had gone on after Harry had left them.

"But..."

"'ush, don't let it worry you! You are a ...very... 'ealthy boy, and one I respect a great deal. I only wish zat you 'ad given in to temptation, when I gave you the opportunity...but alas, you are, if anything, 'onorable. Which is perhaps a large part of your charm."

Harry thought he couldn't be shocked any more than he was. How long had she known he was in that closet? Was she suggesting what he thought she was? But he was...he couldn't have...she didn't mean...

"Anyway, I 'ope to meet you again soon. Remember what Dumbly-dorr told you, and stay safe zis summer. I want ze opportunity to...teach you more. Perhaps you could visit my school, at Beauxbatons..."

With that, she let him pull back. Leaning over, he felt her kiss his forehead...and was that her tongue giving him the slightest flick? Harry was suddenly thankful that his robes were doing a better job of concealing his excitement, this time at least.

"Now off with you...and 'arry," He stopped, and turned back towards her, "Never be ashamed of how you feel. It's ze good feelings that separate us from...you know who."

Harry smiled at her, which made her dimple at him even more. It was so hard to believe that people could ever think that giants, even half giants, were anything less than human. "Good luck with the...project this summer."

"Thank you. And remember...it's our little secret."

Blushing furiously, Harry ran back toward the castle. With this new disaster averted, he still had to get everything packed for his trip home on the Hogwarts Express the next day.