HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic [Chapter 92: Step Two! ] (Patreon)

She reddens and smacks me on the shoulder again. "Forget it!"

"The Thirty-Seven Steps to Female Ecstasy," I say, pausing meaningfully to enjoy her further reddening, "are just one of the many secrets of Sinanju. I most certainly did not make that up." Harry's jaw drops, while Hermione's opens and closes. 

"Of course I read about it in fiction, so somebody else did."

Harry bursts out laughing and Hermione full-on punches me in the shoulder. "And you told Lavender, Parvati, and Neville you were going to show me!" she shrieks.

"Bloody hell, William, I was about to ask you to teach me," Harry says with a laugh, earning him a smack, too.

"You have to admit, it's a good back story. Although, the guys that use it have some sort of Veela-like aura to help them. Here, Hermione, give me your left wrist, I'll start Step One."

"No!" she yelps, yanking her hand away.

"Come now, darling, it's fictional, it probably won't work. Besides, I only remember Step One and Two, and they only involve your left wrist and the small of your back, respectively. I'm pretty sure the good stuff isn't until Step Ten or so."

I hold my hand out and with a blush she places her left wrist in it, palm facing down. "Fine, but no funny stuff."

With a grin I rotate it so it's palm up, then find her pulse. "This is Step One," I say, as I take two fingers and begin tapping in time with her pulse. When her pulse begins to quicken almost immediately, I quickly drop her wrist. Holy shit! "Uh, maybe this is not such a good idea."

"What happened?" Harry asks excitedly.

"Er..." Hermione says, still blushing.

"Her pulse started to pick up, which is what Step One is supposed to do," I say, also blushing. "Here, Harry, you try."

"No!" Hermione squeaks. "I mean, that's okay, I think I've had enough fictional seduction methods for the day."

"Says the Wily Seductress herself," I say with a grin. "Well, you heard the lady, Harry, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"That's not what I—"

"By the way..." I cut in, then I begin lightly drawing figure eights on the small of her back. "This is Step Two."

Hermione jumps forward with a squeal and runs away.

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The last few days before Christmas are extremely busy for me, since I have to finish the second present for Daphne and I'm now working on a little present for Astoria, too. 

I also spend an inordinate amount of time in the Room of Requirement trying to find more resources on active runes and warding. 

Unfortunately since Professor Babbling is more interested in languages and meanings and Professor Vector is more interested in numerology, there isn't much mentor expertise to be tapped. 

Apparently Hogwarts brings in temporary instructors for upper-level students who are interested in more advanced practical experience.

I make a breakthrough (well, a breakthrough for me) on basic, hand-held rune stones with two days left, so I end up refinishing all of them with my magic, which leaves my stomach in a painful knot almost all the time except during the after-breakfast dance lessons with Harry, Hermione, and Luna. 

Neville comes to observe and give pointers as well, his Gran having forced him to learn during the summer. Ron steadfastly refuses, maintaining that he will be dancing as little as possible anyway.

We all wear the shoes that we'll be wearing to the Ball for realism, and of course I end up apologizing profusely on many occasions. Luna is not used to formal dancing, either, so she is anxious to keep up with Neville. 

I don't see any deficiencies, of course, since she floats around the dance floor like a ghost. It does work out wonderfully having another female partner, since it makes practice much more bearable, and allows Hermione to get a closer look at us.

Plus, I think most of her toes would be broken if she couldn't distribute the pain.

After some last minute improvements to some of my earlier carvings, I take the rest of the evening to carefully wrap everything and write short notes to the main recipients. 

Then Harry told me that I simply write the recipient of my gift on the package like a letter, leave it under the tree, and then the House Elves distribute them overnight. I briefly consider delivering them by hand instead, but I decide against it. 

At least I'll get to see my fellow Gryffindors open theirs. It might be difficult to visit the Slytherin dungeon again, and since I've been holed up since the incident with Daphne, I haven't seen her yet. 

Plus, as well-off Slytherins, I'm a bit embarrassed by the simplicity of my gifts to them. If I just send them with the House Elves, they don't have to pretend to like them in front of me. 

I would have liked to see Luna's reaction, but I know she doesn't have many friends in Ravenclaw, so I wanted her to wake up to three extra presents.

It takes me back to my childhood in some ways since it takes me a long while to fall asleep. The anticipation is of a different sort, though. 

Instead of excitement over what I'm going to get, I feel some combination of excitement and dread at what my friends will think of my gifts. 

That sparks a slew of thoughts of previous holidays, of old memories. The memories lead to pleasant dreams of another life.

Before I know it, someone is shaking me awake. "—on, wake up! Sleeping in on Christmas morning," the girl asks in a painfully chipper tone, "who does that?"

"Mm, little longer, baby, come back to bed," I say groggily, pulling her down and snuggling tight. Her squeak goes largely unnoticed by my sleep-addled brain, in no small part to the delicious smell of her hair in my face and her back pressed tightly against my chest.