Harry Potter and the world of Reversed Sexual libido (SI as Harry)

Harry woke up earlier than usual, the dark still heavy in the sky, the clock barely showing 4:00 a.m. He moved quickly, throwing on his clothes and rousing Neville from his bed with a few rough shakes. "Up, Nev," he muttered, his voice low but insistent. "We're starting early."

Neville groaned, rubbing his eyes as Harry left to wake Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati. Soon, the sleepy group gathered outside in the predawn chill, shivering slightly as they made their way to the edge of the Black Lake. The air was cold and damp, the water black and still under the faint light of the waning moon. Harry looked at the tired faces of his friends and laid out the plan.

"I'm not swimming today," he said, his voice steady. "I've figured out how to regulate my temperature without it. But I'll be meditating, and one of you needs to keep an eye on me. I'm setting up a barrier so I don't lose focus, but you'll be inside it, in case something happens. We'll take turns."

They nodded, their breaths coming out in white puffs as they watched him settle down. Harry crossed his legs and closed his eyes, focusing inward. His magic spread around him, forming a thin barrier that cut off the chill of the air. The familiar sensation of warmth enveloped him as he sank deeper, reaching into his magic's core. He began setting aside a portion of it—dedicated solely to tracking his own magical activity, an inner sentry that would alert him if Voldemort's influence tried to sneak in again.

Once the spell was in place, Harry shifted his focus. He didn't want to stop with just manipulating air; he wanted to create something solid. His thoughts centered on forming a simple rock, conjuring a physical mass from the magic he controlled. The effort felt like stretching his magic to its limits, pushing it into a form that was beyond what he'd attempted before.

He was just getting the sensation of weight, the feeling of matter coalescing in front of him, when a tap on his shoulder broke his concentration. Harry's eyes snapped open, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he met Neville's wide-eyed stare. "I said an hour, Neville," he muttered, his tone exasperated.

Neville didn't respond, just pointed in front of Harry, his mouth hanging open. Harry followed his gaze and froze. In front of him stood a massive stone, easily thirteen feet high, its sides cut with perfect precision into a giant cube. For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or swear. The absurdity of it, a giant block that looked like it had been taken straight out of a video game, made him blurt out, "Holy shit."

Neville shook his head, eyes still glued to the stone. "What the hell were you thinking? Why'd you make a huge rock like that?"

"I wasn't trying to make it that big," Harry said defensively, pushing himself to his feet. "I just wanted a rock, not…this."

Neville crossed his arms, glancing over at the others. Hermione was glaring at him, her arms folded as she watched him with a mixture of exasperation and concern. Parvati and Lavender were staring wide-eyed at the stone, having lost focus on their own meditation.

"Well," Neville said, "we can't just leave it here. Someone's going to notice."

Harry sighed, looking at the colossal stone and then at his friends. "Fine," he said, turning to Neville. "You take a shot at getting rid of it. I created it; you see if you can break it down."

Neville gave him a look. "Why am I cleaning up your mess, Harry?"

"Consider it a challenge," Harry replied with a smirk. "If I could create it, you should be able to get rid of it."

Neville grumbled but sat down to meditate, forming his barrier as he worked to regulate the temperature inside. It took him a few tries, and the air around them grew colder as he settled into the magic, the chill heightening Harry's senses. Neville's magic surged, and the stone's surface began to splinter and crack as if struck by an unseen force, breaking apart slowly, like a wall crumbling under the weight of time.

Parvati and Lavender had completely stopped meditating, watching the spectacle with wide eyes. Harry stood nearby, thinking that maybe he could speed up the process. Without fully meditating, he reached for his magic, attempting to guide it purely by will. The first try didn't do much, but on the second attempt, he felt a surge—like opening a floodgate. His magic rushed forward, and with a sudden burst, he lifted the giant rock off the ground, flinging it into the lake with a massive splash.

Panting from the effort, Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead. The exertion had drained him, his limbs heavy and his skin damp. Neville shot him a look of disbelief mixed with irritation. "Why did you even bother asking me to take care of it if you were just going to throw it into the lake yourself?" he said, frustration evident in his voice.

Harry chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just trying to help," he said, flashing a sheepish grin.

Neville rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he went back to his meditation. Hermione and Parvati resumed theirs, with Parvati taking up the role of watching over Hermione this time. Lavender, however, slid closer to Harry, her voice a low, sultry whisper as she leaned in.

"That was pretty hot," she murmured, the edge of her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

Harry smirked, thinking back to Neville's comment about Lavender wanting to get to know him better. "Hard work," he said casually, "takes a bit of effort."

Lavender edged closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Think I could learn how to do something like that?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity and something else entirely.

He met her gaze, eyes glinting. "With enough practice, I bet you could. But what would you do with that kind of magic, Lavender?" 

She grinned, glancing at the others to make sure they were all still occupied. "I'd probably use it to snoop around, pick up on some juicy gossip," she admitted, giggling when Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he scoffed. "You get a power like that and waste it on gossip?"

Lavender shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. "Hey, you never know what secrets you might uncover."

Harry grinned. "I'd do something better. Maybe create a haunting figure—scare the pants off people in the middle of the night."

Lavender swatted his arm with a laugh. "You're wicked."

"Maybe," he said, voice dropping lower. "But at least I know what I'd do with the power."

Then, he shifted slightly closer to her, his tone more serious. "Listen, I've been thinking about what happened before," he began, his gaze softening. "I know I was a prick, pushed you away because I was scared I was just…a toy to you."

Lavender's expression softened. "At first, you weren't wrong," she confessed. "I was looking at you like that. But then I realized there's more to you, Harry." Her voice was sincere, the playful edge gone.

He sighed, his hand trailing lightly along her thigh. "I was afraid that's all I'd be to you. But I'm…working on it."

Lavender's lips curved into a teasing smirk as her gaze flicked around to make sure no one was paying attention. "Well," she breathed, parting her legs slightly, "maybe we can work on something else." Harry's eyes flicked down, and a smirk of his own spread as he realized she had come out here without panties.

Without hesitating, he spat on his hand, letting it drip between his fingers as he slid his slickened hand between her legs. She bit back a moan as his fingers found her center, his touch firm, rubbing slow circles over her clit. Her head tipped back, and she rocked her hips against his hand, the thrill of their risky situation adding to the heat between them.

"Been waiting for this?" he whispered against her ear, his fingers moving faster as she gasped softly, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts.

She nodded, her voice trembling as she answered, "It's…different when you do it."

Harry's other hand reached up, unbuttoning her shirt halfway, exposing her chest. He leaned in, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling, his tongue swirling over the hard peak as she whimpered. "I wasn't sure about this before," he murmured, his fingers pressing deeper inside her, "but now…it's growing on me."

Lavender's hand slipped into his trousers, gripping his length, stroking him slowly as her other hand grabbed his shoulder for support. "It's an…acquired taste," she gasped, her hips bucking as he curled his fingers just right.

They continued, their movements becoming more desperate, more fevered, until they were both gasping, clinging to each other as they reached their peaks. Lavender shuddered around his fingers, her body tightening as her release surged through her, and Harry groaned as his own climax followed, spilling against her palm.

Quickly, they adjusted their clothes, straightening themselves before anyone could notice. Harry buttoned Lavender's shirt back up, planting a quick kiss on her neck before they separated, both of them breathing heavily

. The others had finished meditating, oblivious to the exchange. They all headed to the lake for a quick swim before making their way inside for breakfast.

After eating, the day went by uneventfully until Transfiguration. As they settled in, Harry felt a faint tickle at the back of his mind—his spell sensing a disturbance. He kept his face neutral as McGonagall handed out rocks for them to turn into feathers. Harry did it in an instant, earning Gryffindor twenty points.

When McGonagall passed by his desk, he looked up. "Professor, mind if I rest my eyes for a bit?" 

She gave a brief nod, and Harry slumped back, closing his eyes and sinking into his mind. He checked the recording spell, and sure enough, there it was—Voldemort's magic had poked at it, like a curious finger prodding a lock. 

Harry grinned, his mind already working on setting a trap. He designed it so that the spell would appear to break as soon as Voldemort touched it again, but it would still run quietly in the background. If Voldemort came back, Harry would be ready for him. 

After that, the day carried on normally, with Ron joining them at lunch, fresh out of the infirmary. They cheered for his recovery, and Harry groaned, joking that now that everyone was back together, he had detention keeping him from their experiments. His friends tried to reassure him, but Harry just waved them off. "Do the experiments without me," he said. "Fill me in later."

After finishing his detention, Harry was on his way back to Gryffindor Tower when he spotted Quirrell, heading out of the castle wearing his turban. Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he shrugged it off. He couldn't deal with *Quirrellmort* right now.

As he continued down the hallway, his eyes caught sight of an open door leading to an unused classroom. Inside stood the Mirror of Erised, its surface glinting in the dim light. Harry stepped in, curious about what his deepest desire would look like in this twisted world.

When he stood in front of the mirror, he saw none other than Black Widow herself, kneeling with her mouth open, lined up perfectly with a hole in the glass. The sight made Harry smirk, but he quickly shook his head, chuckling at the absurdity. "Yeah, not sticking my dick in something magical," he muttered to himself. 

He turned on his heel, heading back to the Tower, still chuckling at the thought of Quirrell trying to use the mirror and getting his cock chopped off.

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