"Well, it works. So would you mind restoring me to a size where that menacing cat of yours wouldn't give a second thought to making me lunch?!" Ron asked incredulously. "All in good time Ronald. You know, they used to have giant statures of cats that people would worship." She glanced back from the sleeping Crookshanks, eyeing Ron, as she pulled him toward her breast. "I'd say you're proportionate." "Blimey Hermione, what're ya d-MMmm! Hmmff!-" Hermione, who had removed her bra in anticipation, was now pressing his head against her nipple. "Having trouble breathing Ronald? Would your shouting have us caught and scrubbing silverware the next 6 months? Or would you learn to listen to me and appreciate my," she released the pressure on her index finger as Ron gasped for air, "finer qualities?"
"Ah I'm- I'm sorry Jean," Ron invoked her shorter middle name, still short on breath. "I'm, so sorry. I, I thought... for just a moment there that you- you'd..." Her face softened. "Oh Ronald," she said stroking him, "I could never hurt you. I may teach you a lesson now and again-" "You call that a lesson?" Ron asked exasperated, to which she laughed, and he broke and followed suit. He regained his composure. "You did something to me Hermione. Seeing you like- like this," he looked up as if staring at the 8th wonder of the world. "You're amazing Hermione." "Thank you Ron. Is there anything else regarding my person you're, curious about?" "Well I, probably shouldn't say." "C'mon Ron! What is it? Don't be shy. I promise I'll accommodate you as best I can." "Well, I have often wondered... what it's like when you use the toilet." "The toilet?" Hermione repeated stunned. "Yeah." Ron wriggled nervously in her hand. "E-ever since our first year we've spent a lot of time in the girls restroom for one reason or another. And... it's crossed my mind now and again, what it's like for you witches to- go."
"Well." Hermione pulled back, her eyes unfocused for a moment. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm. I want to satisfy your curiosity now so you don't do something silly like ask Ginny. Did- did you wanna see me wee?" "Well..." Ron thought for a moment, then looked up sheepishly, "whatever you can muster." "Alright. I'll give you a front row seat. We'll reconvene to the girl's room and you can rest in my cleavage on the way. When we get there-" she fidgetted in her bag for something, "I have some adherent somewhere - would you like me to stick you on the inside wall of the bowl?" "That'd be fantastic Hermione!" He said beaming. "I'll see everything coming out of you!" Her eyes rolled up. "Heaven help you Ronald; you're a curious one." "I know. I'll bet your poop matches the beautiful brown of your eyes." "That's not a compliment is it?" She said wide-eyed. "Oh it is," he affirmed, his eyes fixed adoringly on the giantess before him. "Thank you so much Hermione." "You're welcome Ron." She answered as she placed him between her breasts, donned her shirt, and began leaving the Gryffindor common room. "You know this may not smell very well?" "Course! I want you to gun it Grainger, I mean farts and all!" "Well thanks for your permission Ron..." As they bantered down the West Tower, their voices faded from where they'd stood by the fireplace.
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