FINAL CHAPTER!

A/N: So we finally come to the end of this heartwarming tale. Please don't cry, it'll be okay. There'll be more stories in the future, if not from me then from other fabulous writers. But seriously, for all those that made it this far, a sincere thanks, for this is certainly the craziest thing I've ever written, and I'm glad there's at least someone out there who's as crazy as I am that they enjoyed this enough to make it this far. You're all amazing.

A/N 2: Also, for those you who want this to continue into Order of the Phoenix, so do I. But this was honestly difficult to write at times, and while I have started the sequel, it will be a while, probably a long while, before I finish writing it and can start publishing it. And I will likely publish other stories, both HP and not, before I get to "The Order of Crack". But I do sincerely hope to eventually get it done. (And for everyone who's going to tell me not to continue this, because it's horrible and one was bad enough — why did you make this far? There's this little "x" button on one side of the tab at the top of your window that will close it out, so you don't have to read a story you don't like).

A/N 3: Also, does anyone like the nicknames? I've had a lot of people complain about them, so I was wondering if anyone liked them as I get back into writing the sequel. Let me know.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?" asked Hermione, as she tossed another loaf of bread into the air for the giant squid to catch.

She and Harry were relaxing by the edge of the Black Lake, playing with the giant squid, enjoying the warm summer afternoon. They had to return back to their homes the following day, and were trying to squeeze every last bit of fun out of Hogwarts that they could before they left.

"I was thinking. Neither of us really needs another thousand galleons, but I have a feeling the twins could really make good use of it in starting their joke shop they've always dreamed about. So unless you have an objection, or something better to do with it, I was thinking of giving it to them as an investment," answered Harry. "And if they succeed, like we both know they will, it'll be a steady source of income for us a few years down the road."

"Yeah! That sounds great!" exclaimed Hermione, reaching over and pulling Harry's face to hers so she could plant a kiss on his lips.

Tongues and several minutes later they broke apart, and Hermione continued. "I was wondering what to do with all that change. Though a matching Firebolt sounded kind of nice."

"I'll get you one as an early birthday present over the summer sometime," replied Harry. "But it'll be a lot easier to convince the twins to take our investment money if it's from the TriWizard Cup, and not out of pocket."

"Of course," said Hermione in agreement. "And you don't actually have to get me a Firebolt, or any broom at all. I've never been much of a flyer, I just thought maybe with something other than a school broom I could actually enjoy it and not get my vagina bruised every time I tried to ride it. And Firebolts happen to be the price of our winnings." After a pause, she added thoughtfully, "Although, I guess that would mean I would have had to steal your half of the earnings, too, now that I think about it."

"School brooms are worse than just jumping off a cliff and hoping you sprout wings and learn how to use them on the way down," replied Harry. "Though I kind of would have thought they might act like a vibrator. The Firebolt actually has a setting for that, that I think makes the staff vibrate right where you're sitting, while the rest of the broom remains as smooth as always. It also puts up a spell to keep you from falling and to put the broom on autopilot when you inevitably lose control. I've never tried it though, not having a pussy and all."

"Minor requirement," laughed Hermione, before saying seriously, "But the school brooms are more bucking than vibrations — or at least too much bucking to allow you to feel any of the vibrations. Just imagine someone whacking your penis repeatedly with a stick. That's what it was like on my pussy lips. I'm beginning to grow a suspicion that the pureblood families make first years learn how to fly on cunt-punishing brooms on purpose so girls won't want to play Quidditch, and all their inbred boys can make the teams out of a lack of competition. Since there clearly isn't anyone on the Slytherin team who got there on talent."

"Ouch," cringed Harry in sex organ sympathy. "And that does seem like something the majority of the pureblood families would do."

"Oh, yeah, of course I don't mean your family!" exclaimed Hermione, quickly pulling Harry into a hug. "Everything I've ever read about the Potters from the four dozen books or so I've read on wizarding families says they were the nicest, most helpful family of wizards to ever live."

Harry was just about to say how he knew Hermione wasn't accusing his family of trying to keep girls off Quidditch teams by battering their vaginas, when an owl suddenly came swooping down to them, landing on the blanket in front of Hermione.

"Oh good! It made it before we left!" exclaimed Hermione, excitedly grabbing the note off of the owl's leg, before handing the owl a piece of bread and sending it flying back into the sky (the owl, not the piece of bread).

As she read the note, Harry asked, "What is it? I haven't seen you this excited since you pulled me into the broom closet on our way back from breakfast this morning for a quick shag."

"I asked my parents earlier this week if you could just stay with us over the summer, since we're practically already married by now," replied Hermione. "And they said yes!" she finished with a squeal, throwing her arms around Harry's neck and tackling him to the ground, peppering his face with kisses.

"Wow! That's amazing!" exclaimed Harry as soon as Hermione finally let him go. "I can't wait! And I'll finally get to see your house for the first time."

"That's what you're excited about seeing?" teased Hermione. "Not my pretty pink pussy, just dripping for your gigantic cock?"

"Hermione!" exclaimed Harry, scandalized. "We'll be at your parents' house!"

"Mansion, really. Castle, one might even say if they were so inclined," shrugged Hermione. "And my room is more than far enough away from my parents' room that they'll never hear a thing no matter how loudly you make me scream. I certainly can't hear my parents from my room when they're being passionate and getting it on, very loudly. More than once I've been reading in the kitchen and had to escape to my room because of the noise."

"Eww," replied Harry. "But good to know. Now, it's almost supper time, shall we go find the twins and give them a pot of gold before we eat, and then afterwards maybe I can find out just how much noise you can make?"

~HP~

Twenty minutes later, they'd collected their winnings from their dorm room, and found the twins.

"Hello, my fine good fellows," greeted Harry as they walked up. "Hermione and I would like to proposition you."

"What do you have in mind?" asked twin number one.

"Harry and I happen to have happened upon a sizable cash influx recently, as you might have heard," said Hermione.

"We might have heard," replied twin number two.

"Well, as neither of us has any immediate use for it, we thought we might be interested in investing it in your joke shop business you've mentioned a time or two hundred," continued Hermione.

"A bit of a startup investment, one might call it," added Harry. "Something to get you off the ground, and in exchange, we make a little stream of profit in a few years when your business is booming."

"Splendid!"

"Exquisite!"

"Magnanimous of you!"

"Charming!" replied the twins.

"Well, here's the gold, get to joking off," laughed Harry, handing over the sack full of galleons.

"We'll make you proud."

The following day, the Hogwarts Express winded its way through the Scottish and English countrysides towards Kings Cross Station, London, England, Great Britain, Europe, Northern Hemisphere, Terra, Milky Way — as opposed to the other Kings Cross, that's somewhere else.

That morning they had said goodbye to their fellow champions, with a rather personal farewell to Fleur that had started in her room in the Beauxbatons carriage the night before. The Frenchy had promised to come visit them at Hermione's castle over the summer, so they wouldn't accidentally forget who'd brought them their special powers in the first place — and because none of them were sure they could make it two months without smashing pussies and dick. Their goodbyes with Cedric and Krum had been much more decent, of course, but both had promised to try to stop by for a visit sometime before Harry and Hermione headed back to Hogwarts in the fall.

Once on the train, Harry and Hermione had found an empty compartment near the back of the train and locked the door and blacked out all the windows, so no one would bother them on the ride back. The passed the ride much as might have been expected, fucking, and reading, and then fucking some more. Eventually, the voice echoed through the train telling them all that they would be reaching Kings Cross in fifteen minutes, and that all students going back into the muggle world needed to change into their muggle clothes.

As Harry pulled out his boxers, jeans, and t-shirt from inside his trunk, he happened to glance over at Hermione and saw her pull out a lavender bra, and consciously realized for the first time that she would wear one over the summer. He was so used to the wizarding world where no one was allowed to wear anything under their robes, that he'd completely forgotten that she would wear normal muggle clothes when she wasn't at Hogwarts.

Catching him staring at her bra that she was holding as she pulled out the rest of the muggle clothes she needed to change into, Hermione smirked, "Like what you see?"

"Always do," replied Harry cheekily, "I'd just forgotten that you wear muggle clothes over the summer since I never see you in anything but robes."

"Most of this year you haven't seen me in anything," Hermione smirked back, before saying more seriously, "But yes, I'm a girl, I wear a bra when I'm out in muggle country. For some reason, Hogwarts doesn't teach any spells for supporting your breasts without needing to wear a bra, despite the fact said spells exist for our robes. Of course, I've never ran across any clothing spell books in the library or Flourish and Blotts, so maybe it's all intellectual property. But whatever the case is, I was thinking we could work on creating a spell this summer — maybe even one that makes it look like you're wearing a bra, and can still be taken off like a bra and feels like a bra from the outside, but is purely magical and doesn't actually exist so it of course still feels like you're not wearing a bra since you aren't. No expensive purchases ever again, with all the colors and designs you could ever possibly want."

"That's definitely an out of school project I'd be interested in helping with," replied a fully dressed Harry, as he walked over and picked up the real bra from where Hermione had set it down on the seat as she pulled on her knickers and jeans.

Hermione held her arms out for him to slide the straps up them. Making sure the cups were up against her perfect breasts, Harry reached around behind her to fasten the clasp, before moving his hands back to the front to move her breasts until they were perfectly situated in the bra.

As he stepped back to enjoy his handiwork, Hermione smirked, "I might have to let you dress me every morning if you're going to pay that much attention to detail," before grabbing her tight-fitting shirt and throwing it on, so they'd be ready once the train finally came to a halt.

Once the train did halt its forward progress and open its doors, Harry and Hermione waited until everyone else had made themselves cease to be onboard before finally doing the same, carrying their magically lightened trunks and stepping through the magical barrier out into the mundane muggle masses. They found both Hermione's parents and Uncle Dursley waiting for them, standing about as far apart as they possibly could and still both be on the cramped muggle platform. Uncle Dursley could clearly tell the Grangers were the sort of muggles who'd taken a liking to their magical child, which in his book made them as bad as any actual witch or wizard.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, Harry strode over to his uncle and slapped him across the face as hard as he could, before saying, "To both our great pleasures, I will not be going home with you, and hopefully will never set foot on Privet Drive again as long as I live. I would say I might need to come by to collect some of my belongings, but they're already all in my trunk, since I basically never had any personal belongings before I found out I was a wizard. So goodbye, and good riddance."

Then he turned and strode over to where Hermione was waiting with her parents, the entire platform cheering and clapping loudly. Both of Hermione's parents hugged him tightly, Hermione's mother not shy about squeezing him firmly against her full, firm breasts.

It reminded him a lot of Fleur's girls, only Hermione's mum's were clearly ensconced in a bra instead of hanging free beneath robes. If she kept hugging him a lot over the summer, maybe he could convince Hermione to buy her mum some witches robes. Speaking of which, did anyone make witches robes that looked like a muggle t-shirt and jeans? If not, maybe that was a suggestion for the twins to expand their business into — he was sure they were creative enough to figure out a way to adapt witch robe properties to muggle t-shirts, and God knew witches and wizards needed all the help they could get dressing like muggles on the rare occasions they needed to blend in. And it would go well with Hermione's line of magical bra spells.

As if reading some of what was going through his mind, Hermione leaned over and whispered into his ear, "She goes braless at home, and loves hugging even more than the Weasel mum. Speaking of which, I usually go braless around the castle, too."

If Harry hadn't already been sure that this was going to be the best summer he'd ever had, he was certainly sure now.

He and Hermione followed her parents out to their car, an all-original Bentley 8 Litre, from well back in the day. They piled their trunks into the boot, before climbing into the back seat, Harry's arm wrapping around her shoulders and Hermione snuggling into his side.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Hermione's dad said, "Harry, I'm sure Hermione's told you a lot about our family castle, which ever since we learned that Hermione is a witch, we've believed to have most likely been passed down in the family from whichever of Hermione's ancestors was the last witch or wizard in the family before her. But before we get there and you can have a chance to explore it for yourself, would you two like to stop by Diagon Alley to pick anything up before we head there?"

Harry turned slightly and whispered into Hermione's ear.

"This is going to be the best summer ever."

~THE END~