Harry and Hermione moved in, wands at the ready. They had gotten cleaned up after having sex and then journeyed to the final spot on the map to investigate Dementor sightings in Enfield. They had surveyed much of the area, mainly ignoring this last venue. It was a space in between two of the old and abandoned warehouses. In his mind, Harry wished that they had come to the spot first instead of waiting till the end. Now they were both tired, and every now and then, he felt his wand’s tip dipping ever so slightly. Each time, when he blinked, it appeared that it had just been a trick of the light. At least that’s what he told himself. It was hardly a good idea going after Dementors at the best of times.
Neither of the two magic users voiced such concerns, though Hermione felt guilty about not keeping her libido in check. Like Harry, she was feeling a bit worn out. Harry’s length was the biggest she knew, and they had gotten very hot and heavy as they fucked on the corner of a street during the previous investigation. That said, she was confident in both of their skills; after all, she only had to close her eyes to remember the brilliant sight of Harry defending her, Sirius, and himself from the horde of Dementors during their third year.