Crack'd Mirror
Crack'd Mirror
Chapter Nine
Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books and Scholastic publishing, and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author's Notes: This story is a broad parody with over the top humor (most of this humor is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (Out Of Character actions). To reiterate; this is a parody with a great amount of sex jokes and sex scenes.
Polygamous Relationships ahead; multiple and bisexual partners (femmeslash). If this concept bothers you; don't read.
I'm going to do this until someone points it out: the Ron bashing has been stripped of its commission and is now a Master Sergeant.
Inspired by classic Star Trek "Mirror Mirror"
Harry's anger over Hermione's brainwashing could be felt by all three witches gathered in the room. Although she was frightened, Hermione, in her programmed state, felt Harry's rage justified her classification that he was evil. While Luna was scared as well, she was also concerned that Harry was going to kill someone (which was what he wanted to do). However Ginny had a much different reaction to Harry's anger than the other two witches; the odd red-head was not frightened by Harry's anger in the slightest. Instead she wanted him to turn some of that rage upon her. She had a burning, sexual desire for Harry to kick her in the belly and spit in her hair.
"I know a simple 'Finite' won't work, but maybe we can jog her memory somehow?" offered Luna, hoping to stem the young wizard's anger.
"How would you suggest we do that?" asked Harry, eager to get one of his favorite harem girls (in both realities) back to normal. Not only did he value her on a physical aspect (it wasn't just her fantastic body, she was the only woman – human woman, that is – that could "deep-throat" him and that, in itself, was invaluable) but she was wicked smart and wasn't afraid to stand up to him, characteristics that Harry admired. But now, in this mental state caused by Dumbledore's meddling, Hermione was of no use to Harry. Not only was Hermione a prude, but clearly she wasn't thinking right – spouting drivel about proper behavior and whatnot. Which meant two of the things that he liked most about Hermione were now gone and he wanted them back.
"Perhaps if we introduce, or rather reintroduce her to things that she's familiar with, the effects of the brainwashing will be reversed," Luna stated. "Much like a mudkild von der wok does when he wakes up from his summer long hibernation."
"That's a good idea," Harry said – truth be told, he had no idea what a something von whatever was, nor did he care. Acting upon Luna's suggestion, he hooked his fingers around the clasp of his trousers, intent on "reintroducing" Hermione to something she had become very familiar with. "Luna, get her out of those ridiculous clothes so we can 'heal' her."
"YOU FOUL LECHEROUS BEAST!" screamed Hermione, offended at such an implication.
"Harry, I don't think that would be wise," Luna said in her unique dreamy fashion. "I fear that such a shock may do more damage than good. In her current state, Hermione is vehemently opposed to any kind of sex. If you were to do what I think you're going to do-"
"Bonk her," Harry interjected.
"That's what I thought," the blonde said with an introspective nod of her head. "I believe that bonking her will only cause her to react adversely. There's a very good chance that her conditioning will get worse.
"Rather, I think we should start small; take her to places that she's familiar with," offered Luna. "Like her parents' home."
"So you're hoping that seeing things from her childhood will help her break her conditioning," summarized Harry.
"I believe it's a start," the blonde amended. "First, we'll take her to her home, and if she's still under Dumbledore's conditioning, we can go to Hogwarts, even though that could be dangerous for us."
To heal his Hermione, Harry was willing to go back to Hogwarts. That, and he was looking for an excuse to run across Dumbledore just so that he could show the old man how much he "appreciated" what he did to Hermione.
"Fine, take me to my parents' home," Hermione boldly stated. "There'll you'll see the evidence that I am a good and innocent girl! Judging by the time, I can assure you that my parents are at work and not at home – I only wished they would be there just so you could see that I'm a good, proper, and innocent person like my Mother and Father."
Harry quickly threw on a black pullover and slipped on his boots before tapping one of the bed's pillows with his wand, incanting; "Portus."
As the magic worked on the pillow, Ginny, still bound to a chair, asked with pleading eyes, "Can I go with you to my precious Mistress' house?"
Harry told her that he didn't think it would be wise for the red-haired witch to join them on their trip. This response was not given so much with spoken words, but with more of a pushing her chair over so Ginny crashed to the ground, face first, with a loud thud. Basically, Harry didn't believe even talking to Ginny was worth his effort. Needless to say, the action of smashing onto the ground face first caused the red-head to have an earth shattering orgasm.
"Luna, you hold Hermione's hand and I'll hold yours," Harry said to the blonde witch. A second later, the three disappeared with a pop.
Left alone and tied to a chair on the floor, a quivering Ginny breathed out; "I love you, Master. Please, heal my loving Mistress."
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Meanwhile, in the library of number twelve Grimmauld Place, Arthur and Tonks slowly began to awaken. Their eyes fell upon each other and their faces instantly heated up. Each smiled warmly at the other, trying to find words for the thoughts and feelings they both were experiencing. Their bodies still tingled from their love making – or at least that's what they believed. The actual reason for their tingling sensations was the aftereffect of Harry's Stunning Charm. Well, Arthur's tingling stemmed from that, Tonks' came from the Stunning Charm combined with the wicked shag that Harry had given her.
When Harry had adjusted their memories, he had to incorporate the fact that Tonks had just been shagged. And since Arthur had been standing next to the young Auror when he stunned the pair, Harry used the older wizard to help cover his tracks. He altered Tonks' memory of their most recent shag by removing himself from her memory and inserted Arthur as a replacement. Harry took the time to position their bodies in such a way that they would wake up naked in each others' arms. Both Arthur and Tonks now believed that they shagged each other in a bout of blind passion.
"Hi," Tonks said lamely, finally breaking the awkward silence.
"Um, hello," Arthur returned, just as feeble.
For several moments, the two fell back into their uneasy silence. They both knew that what they had done was wrong: Arthur was a married man. But, at the risk of sounding clichéd, it felt so good for them. Arthur didn't like to admit it, but Molly had grown distant in a physical sense (that was a kindness on Arthur's part – the woman was never much into physical shows of affection; her preferred sexual position was to lie motionless on the bed like a dead fish). He felt ashamed to be so petty; after all, Molly was the mother of his children. But he still had needs, and Tonks was so young, so vibrant, so willing – not like Molly at all. Meanwhile Tonks was thinking of herself as a home-wrecker for having slept with Arthur.
They tried to move away from each other a few times, but the feeling of warmth and affection made them resist. However, this close connection caused Arthur's loins to stir. He finally broke away from Tonks and sat up. She, too, sat up and the two took their places on the opposite ends of the couch they had woken up on. Despite not touching her any longer, Arthur's arousal was still present. He so wanted to touch her again, to feel her wrapped around him.
As to not further betray his wife, Arthur desperately tried to divert his attention away from the young and very naked witch..
"I, ah, have to go to the Burrow," Arthur said. "Ron needs a talking to."
"Oh, really, about what?" asked Tonks, hoping to divert attention away from their indiscretions as well.
"He apparently has a harem," informed the older wizard.
"A harem, huh?" commented Tonks, in an awkward attempt to continue the casual conversation. "He's a lucky bloke."
"Yes, he is," agreed Arthur. He recalled his secret desire of having a harem when he had heard of his son's group of witches. Then, as if a divine light shone upon him, Arthur came to realize something: Tonks, with her metamorphmagus abilities, was a one woman harem. Gulping nervously, Arthur gazed upon the witch he believed he had just shagged and let his mind wander over the infinite possibilities that she promised. Why, one day she could be a copy of Hermione, complete with kinky brown hair and a buxom figure that men have worshiped since the dawn of time. And the next day, Tonks could conceivably change her appearance to that of Viola Parkinson, a lithe woman whose jet-black hair stood out in alluring contrast to her pale, milky flesh. Next, the Auror could look like Panchali Patil, an exotic beauty that had haunted Arthur's dreams for years.
As Arthur continued to ponder over the possibilities of having a metamorphmagus girlfriend, the arousal that he had hoped to dissuade a few moments before returned like a rampaging dragon. His slightly larger than average manhood stood tall, proudly pointing straight up at the ceiling.
"Blimey, you ready to go at it again?" Tonks said, impressed that a man of Arthur's age was so virile.
"Oh, sorry," Arthur said ashamedly. He snatched one of the couches pillows and placed it on his lap, shielding his erection from sight.
"I… I um should be going," Tonks said, and began to stand.
"Yes, you're probably right," he said.
Then their eyes met and Tonks saw the affection, admiration, and open desire in his eyes. When she had shagged Harry the day before, Tonks had experienced physical pleasure unlike she had ever dreamed of. But now, gazing into Arthur's blue eyes, she saw something that Harry nor any other man had ever shown her before: love. It touched her, deep down inside. It made her feel whole. More than that; it made her randy.
Tonks licked her lips hungrily before pouncing on the wizard who was old enough to be her father.
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Across the street from the Granger residence, three oddly paired men hid under a strong Disillusionment Charm. Even though they were unseen, they were far from unheard.
"THE FLYING DEATH DOES NOT LIKE BEING INVISIBLE, BROTHERS!" the massive masked man bellowed.
"So you've told us fifteen times now," Lucius said less than wittily.
"Actually, that makes sixteen," Thorfinn said, clearly not amused by the situation.
"It does?"
"Yes, he said it once when you went to relieve yourself," informed Thorfinn.
"THE FLYING DEATH THINKS IT IS BENEATH HIM TO SNEAK UP ON HIS OPPONENT UNANNOUNCED LIKE SOME LOWLY PURSE SNATCHER! OOH YEAH!" the man shouted and flexed his arms over his head even though no one could see him. "THE FLYING DEATH WOULD RATHER FIGHT HIS OPPONENT FACE TO FACE, MANO A MANO, IN A FAIR FIGHT! OOH YEAH! WITHOUT PETTY TRICKS AND LOW BLOWS SUCH AS SNEAKING UP ON SOMEONE LIKE WE'RE DOING HERE, BROTHERS!"
"How can you of all people say that?" Lucius practically screeched like an ill-tempered hag. "You destroyed my house in a failed sneak attack against Wormtail! How can you claim that sneaking up on someone is beneath you when you have done exactly that with Wormtail?"
"BECAUSE TINY SILVER FISTED RAT MAN HAS MET THE FLYING DEATH ON A FAIR FIELD AND HAS PROVEN HIS WORTH! THE FLYING DEATH HAS ELEVATED HIS ATTACK BECAUSE TINY SILVER FISTED RAT MAN IS WORTHY OF SUCH A CHALLENGE!" the Flying Death paused to take in a deep breath before continuing – of course he was flexing theatrically at the time. "THE FLYING DEATH HAS NOT YET MET THIS FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY AND TO SNEAK UP ON HIM IS BENEATH THE FLYING DEATH! IF FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY PROVES HIMSELF A WORTHY OPPONENT, THEN THE FLYING DEATH SHALL ESCALATE HIS TACTICS, AS HE DID WITH TINY SILVER FISTED RAT MAN! WHOOOOO-O-O!"
"Wait, I just saw some movement inside the Muggles' home," interrupted Thorfinn.
Lucius snatched up his omnioculars and peered through the magical device. He pointed it directly at the Muggle home and began adjusting one of the many knobs located on the omnioculars. Soon, the walls of the house faded away until Lucius could see directly into the building.
"He's in there," Lucius said, his eyes narrowed on the young raven-haired wizard flanked by two witches.
"VERY WELL, I SHALL RETURN TO SNAKE-FACE MAN AND TELL HIM HIS OPPONENT IS HERE!" shouted The Flying Death as he retrieved the emergency Portkey the Dark Lord had given him. This portkey was designed to be simple enough so even the Flying Death could work it: a short length of rope that would activate when tugged on both ends. But, before the muscular man could remove the rope from around his arm and activate it, Lucius launched his plan of revenge against the muscle-bound fiend who had destroyed his once regal home.
"And I thought the Flying Death wasn't afraid of a challenge," he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for the brute to hear him.
"WHAT WAS THAT? DID YOU JUST QUESTION THE FLYING DEATH'S COURAGE, BROTHER?"
"Oh, damn, you weren't meant to hear that," Lucius said with false shame and regret.
"THE FLYING DEATH FEARS NO ONE!" he shouted while attempting to flex every single muscle as hard as he could. If he had not been invisible, the two Death Eaters would've seen veins bulging all over his arms and neck, looking as if they might pop like overfilled balloons at any moment.
"I know that you're brave," offered Lucius with a show of nervousness. "I just thought it was odd, seeing how courageous and noble you are, that you're going to return to the Dark Lord for help in dealing with one opponent. But then again, seeing how powerful Potter has become, I believe you're right; it'll be prudent of you to seek aid for dealing with him."
The Flying Death looked at the house across the street, weighing his options.
"I think you're wise not to challenge Potter to a one-on-one fight," Lucius continued, knowing his words were egging the brute on. "By erring on the side of caution, you're protecting yourself from great bodily harm. Potter is clearly too much of a challenge for you to face alone."
"REMOVE THIS SILLY INVISIBLE SPELL SO THAT MY OPPONENT, FOUR EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY, CAN SEE THE GLORY THAT IS THE FLYING DEATH!" he yelled at the two Death Eaters. Lucius' mask hid his triumphant smile as he canceled out the Disillusionment Charm on the Flying Death.
The large man let out an animalistic growl before shouting; "PREPARE YOURSELF, FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY! FOR THE FLYING DEATH IS ABOUT TO RAIN PAIN AND SUFFERING UPON YOU! WHOOOO-O-O-O!
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The instant Harry and his two witches arrived in the living room of the Granger home, Hermione stated; "There, you see? No depravity here. No pornography, no books on how to take over the world, and definitely no sex toys. You will find that good, wholesome people live here. Not people like you sex-crazed evil degenerates!"
"But sex is fun!" countered Luna. "It's a great exercise, and it releases your body's natural endorphins. It's a win-win situation all around."
"You're wrong. Sex is foul and debasing," Hermione retorted. The colors aided her in her argument with the blonde Scarlet Woman by suggesting such statements as 'It's messy and mortifying' and 'Fornication reinforces a patriarchal society that strives to repress women.'
"Ladies, we didn't come here to debate morality," Harry spoke.
"Or lack there of," interrupted Hermione.
"We're here to help Hermione remember who she truly is," continued Harry.
"That's very interesting, because I've brought you here to show you that I'm like my parents, moral and wholesome," countered Hermione. She attempted to cross her arms over her chest, but the massive dress Mrs. Weasley had conjured made this task impossible – the enormous amounts of fabric and pleats hindered they witch from even holding her own hands in front of her, much less crossing her arms. After several seconds of fidgeting with her arms, the brunette settled with placing her hands on her hips. "They certainly do not go around having sex whenever they feel like, unlike some foul people I know! My parents know, like I do, you don't have sex unless you want to have a baby."
"So you're telling me that since your folks had one child that they only had sex once in their lives?" Harry asked, dubiously.
"Don't be silly! Even I know that sometimes a woman doesn't get pregnant on the first attempt," she snapped. "They probably had sex two or three times. Four tops. And I'm sure they felt rotten if they had to do it even that much."
"Oh come on, you never walked in on them when you were a kid?" he asked. "Never saw them playing a game of 'hide the sausage' while they thought you were asleep or out of the house?"
With Hermione's attention focused on Harry, Luna slinked off in hopes of finding something to trigger the brunette's memory. Luna was growing quite frustrated with the whole ordeal to be honest. It had been too damn long since she had Hermione's skilled tongue in her bottom. And thanks to this brainwashing predicament, it could be even longer until Hermione tongued Luna's hole.
"You can't tell me that you never once walked into their bedroom late at night because of a nightmare or you wanted a glass of water to find you mum and dad frolicking under the sheets?" continued Harry. "Or against the wall, which is loads of fun, not to even mention against windows."
"My parents are not like you," Hermione said evenly, despite the colors in her head urging her to yell curses such as 'evil' and 'foul.' "They aren't wild animals who cave into their base carnal desires. They know that it's improper and wrong to have sex for pleasure. Once my Mother got pregnant with me, they stopped the foul act of sex right then and there and have not done it since, I can assure you."
"Oh, really? Then how do you explain this?" asked Luna, standing in front of the study, a few feet down the hall. "I just found your parents' sex room!"
"My parents do not have a sex room, you Scarlet Woman!" shouted Hermione as she stomped over to the blonde.
"Tell me, Luna, have you ever even seen a sex room?" asked Harry as he, too, walked to join the other witch.
"No, but I'm guessing it'd look something like this," Luna answered, pointing to the room.
Upon reaching the blonde and looking into the room which she indicated, Hermione scolded; "You ninny, this isn't a sex room! It should be obvious to any sane person that my parents are dentists by the items in this room!"
Harry peered into the study and saw that it had been turned into a museum to dentistry. Numerous tools lined the walls from very old looking pliers to more modern drills and everything in-between. The showpiece was an old dentist's chair located in the middle of the room. It had been clearly lovingly restored and the highly polished brass plaque on the back of the headrest read "McGuffin Industries 1929."
"My Father collects and refurbishes antique dentistry tools and equipment," explained Hermione, hotly. "My Father doesn't need to befoul himself with sex because he has a wholesome pastime like this."
"Sex is not befouling!" returned Luna, equally upset. Hermione had a sharp tongue (and Luna wanted it up her bottom, not flinging harsh words at her). "Sex is a downright hoot when done properly! And believe me; Harry can do it very, very properly! You weren't too shabby at it either, before Dumbledore brainwashed you!"
A loud shout like a battle cry from outside drew Harry's attention. "Did anyone else hear that?"
With a thundering crash, the front door exploded. Splinters and chunks of the destroyed door rocketed through the living room like bullets. Harry rapidly pulled out his wand and quickly cast a Shield Charm, effectively blocking the fragments of the door from hitting him or his witches.
A mountain of a man, wearing a wrestler's mask, charged through the ruined doorway, bellowing; "FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY, IT IS TIME TO FACE YOUR DOOM AT THE HANDS OF THE FLYING DEATH!"
Harry didn't even blink an eye before firing off curses and hexes at the muscular mystery man (some were Stun Hexes while a few were curses of his own design intended to sever toes, thereby hobbling the target, and one that would permanently turn the target's eyes into sludge). However, the man's speed belied his massive size. He was a blur of motion and Harry couldn't get a bead on him. He bounced from wall to wall as if they were springboards.
Luna took hold of Hermione and dragged her into the study. Even if Moody had not taken her wand, the blonde realized that she was no match for this muscle-bound attacker. So she decided to take herself and Hermione out of the fray. Besides, Harry was a skilled dueler – notwithstanding that none of his hexes had hit their target yet. Luna was confident that Harry would get the best of the mystery man in no time, or at least she hoped he would.
Bright bolts of magic from Harry's wand whizzed by the masked man, missing him by fractions of an inch as he bounced from wall to wall like some sort of acrobat, an acrobat who's spent the last ten years abusing horse-steroids. Knowing that he was the target, Harry began to jump out of the mystery man's path, but it was too late.
"OH YEA-A-A-AH!" the man shouted, jumping, feet first, at Harry. The Flying Death's heels collided with Harry's right shoulder painfully. A noise that sounded like air escaping a sealed mason jar, only much, much louder, emanated from Harry's shoulder. Like a shock of electricity, the pain from the blow raced up Harry's shoulder, neck and into his head. A blinding flash of white light erupted behind his eyes.
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"Lucius, are you mad?" Thorfinn demanded as he witnessed the muscle-bound brute smash his way into the Muggle home across the street. "Why did you antagonize the Flying Death like that? The Dark Lord wanted to attack Potter en masse with both of his duplicates."
"It was a regrettable mistake," said Lucius, attempting to hide the happy tone in his voice from his fellow Death Eater. If half of what Severus had said about Potter having "near omnipotent" powers was true, the savage beast who had destroyed Lucius' wonderful home would be dead in less than a second. Lucius resisted the urge to cheer when the Flying Death smashed through the Muggle's front door. The fool's death was imminent!
"We should apparate to the two other teams and lead them back here immediately," Thorfinn ordered over the sound of battle coming from the Mudblood's house. "You go to our Master while I fetch his cowboy counterpart."
Lucius was trying to formulate a way to slow Thorfinn down. The more time the Flying Death had alone with a super powered Potter, the more likely it would be that the muscle-bound thug would die.
A cry of "HARRY, LOOK OUT!" came from the house.
"Wait a moment, this isn't right," Lucius said in honest disbelief. If Potter did have near cosmic power, he should've smote Flying Death instantly – even if the brute had surprised him.
Lucius' suspicions were heightened even more when he heard a man's scream of pain that clearly did not come from the Flying Death. Obviously it had been Potter that had cried out in pain. Lucius knotted his brow together as the sounds of battled increased.
Clearly, Severus was incorrect about Potter. If the boy had indeed done the impossible and completed his Epic Phan Phixshun, he would've dispatched the brutish Flying Death by now. But the sounds of furniture smashing and shouts of pain emanating from the Mudblood's home told Lucius that Potter had not smote Flying Death. In fact, judging by the sounds, Lucius assumed that the Flying Death was whomping Potter. So, obviously Severus was wrong – Potter did not have cosmic powers. Perhaps that old Muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore, had realized that Severus was a spy and had fed the Potions Master misinformation about Potter for some unknown reason.
Whatever the reason Dumbledore might have had was irrelevant for the time being; Lucius saw a two-fold opportunity. Not only could he kill his Master's teenaged enemy and receive praise from the Dark Lord, but he could make sure that the Flying Death perished in the battle and be blameless.
"Wait a moment, Thorfinn," Lucius said. "I have a plan."
"Make it quick, Malfoy," urged the other Death Eater.
"As you can tell, the Flying Death is doing surprisingly well," began the blond wizard.
"Well then, Potter's just toying with him," offered Thorfinn. "Any moment now, Potter's going to turn the Flying Death into a pile of crap."
"True, but we can use this to our advantage. While Potter's attention is on the Flying Death, we can sneak up behind the boy," Lucius explained. Although he believed that Potter was not super-powerful, there was no time to convince Thorfinn. "Can you imagine how pleased our Master would be with us if we dispatched Potter?"
With the thoughts of praise and rewards flying through his head, Thorfinn spoke; "You're right! I can see it: we sneak up and cast Killing Curses at Potter while he's distracted!"
"Exactly," cheered Lucius as he and Thorfinn stood. As the two Death Eaters marched to the Mudblood's home, Lucius snickered to himself, knowing that one of his Killing Curses was going to "regretfully" miss Potter and end the Flying Death's miserable existence.
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Luna's panicked scream of "HARRY, LOOK OUT!" pulled the young wizard out of his pain-induced stupor. His eyes opened to find the massive man standing over him. The brute was swinging his fist towards Harry's head like two sledgehammers. With stars still sparkling in his eyes from the blow to his shoulder, Harry rolled just in time – the masked man's fists slammed into the ground and Harry could feel the shockwave of the impact from the strike reverberate through the floor.
Harry gritted his teeth as pain akin to a raging fire raged through his arm. As he hopped up off of the ground, he quickly took in his right arm. It dangled uncontrollably from his shoulder, clearly torn out of its socket. A simple healing charm could fix it up right away. Unfortunately, the blow that dislocated Harry's shoulder also caused the wizard to lose his wand.
"THE FLYING DEATH WILL POUND FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY INTO A STICKY PASTE!" the massive man shouted and began to swing his fist at Harry.
The injured wizard ducked. The blow from the man who called himself the Flying Death barely missed the top of Harry's head. He could feel his hair part as the Flying Death's large fist rocketed by.
Knowing that he had no time to search for his wand while this maniac tried to mash his skull, Harry dashed for the kitchen to find another weapon. However, Harry knew that even with a knife, he'd be no match for the Flying Death with his right arm out of commission. He needed to be able to use it. As he approached the doorway to the kitchen, Harry decided to try and fix his arm the old fashion way.
Just as he reached the doorway, Harry spun and threw himself backwards, slamming his injured shoulder hard against the doorjamb. A scream escaped Harry's lungs and stars once again erupted in his vision as the joint was painfully forced back into its socket. His vision suddenly started to darken. His arm, chest and most of his belly screamed out as the pain from his shoulder burned through his limb and torso. In order to remain conscious, the young wizard bit into his tongue hard enough to draw blood. The sharp, localized pain helped focus his mind from the fire that raged through the right side of his body.
His arm was not yet functioning fully; it still hurt like hell and moving it caused even more pain. But it would have to do until he dealt with the Flying Death and retrieved his wand.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Harry quickly surveyed the kitchen. On the wall adjoining the hall, Harry spotted the knife rack which contained a very nasty looking carving knife right next to a large meat cleaver.
Just as Harry reached for the blades the entire wall exploded; the Flying Death rammed his body through it, sending chucks of the wall, counters, and the knives that Harry had been reaching for all across the kitchen. Before these fragments and blades even had a chance to hit the floor, the Flying Death swung his fists madly at Harry.
Outside the kitchen, Luna was desperately trying to find Harry's discarded wand. The blonde was on all fours, crawling over the debris in the now-ruined room, sifting though the wreckage, hoping to come across the wand.
Rolling in a ball, Harry tumbled out of the kitchen and back into the hall, his right arm still screaming in pain. He saw Luna crawling around and barked "Get back in the study!" He didn't want his witches to get caught up in this fight.
"WHOOO-O-O-O! THE FLYING DEATH HAS FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY ON THE RUN!" the masked man shouted, bounding into the hallway after his prey.
Harry stood and spun to face his attacker.
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Lucius and Thorfinn scurried through the front garden of the Granger house and dashed into the building. Potter had his back turned to them and his attention on the Flying Death. As a unit, the two Death Eaters leveled their wands at the boy's back. Subtly, Lucius adjusted his aim so that his Killing Curse would just miss Potter and hit the thug who had ruined his palatial home.
Two shouts of "AVADA KEDAVRA!" filled the house.
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The Flying Death's legs flexed and Harry knew the monstrous man was about to throw himself at him as he did before. Like a shot, Harry dropped down and to the side. As the Flying Death soared over Harry, two bright green bolts of magic, clearly Killing Curses, flew passed the masked man's head, missing him by inches.
Glancing quickly at the ruined entrance to the home, Harry saw two Death Eaters brandishing their wands and the Flying Death landing in front of them. Harry cursed his luck; now he had to deal with two Death Eaters and a steroid monster; all without his wand.
"STAND BACK BROTHERS," the Flying Death shouted to Malfoy and Thorfinn over his shoulder. The large man stood directly in front of the two Death Eaters and cried out; "THE FLYING DEATH WORKS ALONE! THIS IS ONE BATTLE THAT WILL NOT BE A TAG-TEAM MATCH!"
Harry smirked. With a little effort, he could turn the Flying Death's position to his advantage.
The black haired wizard leapt at his foe and his left fist shot out, directly at the Flying Death's large Adam's apple. Judging by the brute's size and build, Harry knew that this punch wouldn't do much damage. Even though he wouldn't hurt the Flying Death, Harry knew his target would recoil, and he was going to use that to help get rid of at least one of the Death Eaters.
Just as predicted, the Flying Death let out a bark-like choke, reeled backwards slightly, and involuntarily brought his hands up to defend his neck. Then Harry moved onto the next part of his plan. With all of the power he could muster, Harry kicked the point of his opponent's chin. The blow caused the Flying Death's head to snap back. Next, Harry spun as fast as he could, sweeping his foot inches over the floor, directly at the Flying Death's ankle. Harry grunted as his foot crashed into his foe's Achilles tendon. This caused the muscular man to rise up his foot and reeled back even further. Now all Harry needed to do was push the masked man and gravity would do the rest of the work for him.
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While the Flying Death stood in front of him, Lucius considered hitting the brute with a Killing Curse and be done with it. However, he knew that he would have a difficult time explaining his actions. Hitting the Dark Lord's counterpart in a pitched battle is one thing, but to kill him when he was standing right in front of him was another. Once the savage reengaged Potter, Lucius had every intention of killing the giant lummox.
However, before Lucius got the chance to enact his simple and devious plan, Potter struck. From what little Lucius could see around the Flying Death's broad body, Potter moved like lightning. In the blink of an eye, Potter had hit the Flying Death three times and then pushed him. Lucius was so amazed at Potter's speed that he hadn't noticed that the Flying Death was tipping backwards, towards the blond Death Eater himself.
With a resounding crash, the Flying Death fell on top of Lucius. At that moment, Lucius knew with absolute certainty that his Master's muscle-bound counterpart weighed no less than four times more than a normal man. Lucius knew this because all of the Flying Death's fifty stone of muscle and bone landed right on top of him with the force of a herd of stampeding hippogriffs.
When Lucius' head hit the floor, his neck twisted roughly and a loud pop and crack sounded. As the icy grip of death seize Lucius, his last thought was that of regret. He suddenly realized his one lament in life was that he didn't spend enough quality time with the two most important people in his life. 'I wish I could've gotten another go at the twins, Sandra and Laurel, one last time.' He then became very cold and everything went dark.
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While the other Death Eater looked at his fallen compatriot crushed under the enormous weight of the Flying Death in shock, Harry moved. With his left hand, he chopped the inside of the Death Eater's elbow of his wand arm, causing him to flinch involuntarily. Harry used this action of the flinch to his advantage. He grabbed the Death Eater's hand and wand with his right hand, and even though it caused him pain, Harry brought the Death Eater's wand to his face rapidly. Voldemort's minion let out a blood curdling scream as the tip of his own wand tore into and buried itself in his eye.
With his forefinger and thumb still wrapped around the Death Eater's wand, Harry shouted "Expelliarmus!"
This simple spell, when used normally, would knock an opponent's wand from his hand. But Harry knew from experience, that even simple spells can be lethal when used in the right manner. Since the tip of the wand was touching the back of the Death Eater's eye socket, the Disarming Spell knocked several sizable chunks of bone out and up, sending it though his brain – effectively shredding his brain.
As the second Death Eater fell to the floor, Harry held onto the wand and instantly began conjuring heavy chains and bound the Flying Death to the ground before the brute could recover.
"THE FLYING DEATH IS NOT SO EASILY DEFEATED!" the man boasted loudly as the corpse beneath him expelled its bowels. The Flying Death strained against the thick, heavy chains that bound him and cursed, "YOU, FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY, WILL SCREAM AND BEG FOR MERCY! OOH, YEAH! YOUR PAIN AND SUFFERING WILL BE LEGENDARY! WHOOOO-O-O-O!"
Harry waved the wand once more; this time conjuring a lead cannon ball in midair, directly over the Flying Death's head. Harry turned his back as the fifty pound ball fell.
"OW!" the Flying Death exclaimed before blacking out.
"Are you two okay?" Harry asked Luna and Hermione.
"I'm fine," Luna said meekly. "I found your wand, finally."
"Thanks," he said and took his wand from the blonde, discarding the dead Death Eater's.
As he waved his wand over his injured shoulder, silently casting various healing charms, Hermione scolded; "Do you see what your evil ways has wrought? Look around you! My parents' home is destroyed! Your foul depravity and actions led these fiends here and you destroyed everything! Why, judging by you disposition, I wouldn't be surprised if you got some kind of perverse sexual thrill-"
Having had enough, Harry pointed his wand at Hermione and launched a Stun Charm at the brainwashed brunette. Thankfully, the voluminous dress that she was wearing had cushioned her fall and Hermione was not injured.
"Was that necessary?" Luna asked.
"Yes; it's also necessary that you take Hermione up to one of the bedrooms, lock the door and don't come out until I come and get you," Harry ordered and began waving his wand in intricate patterns, magically repairing the damage to the house. He knew that the ruckus the battle cause may have alerted the neighbors. And if these neighbors looked out their windows and saw a gapping hole in the front of the Granger home, they would undoubtedly call the police. Once the damage was repaired, Harry cast a Featherweight Charm on Hermione so that Luna could carry the unconscious witch up the stairs.
"What are you planning on doing?" the blonde asked, picking up the other witch by the shoulders.
"I'm going to ask the Flying Death a few questions," he replied with a smile that warned Luna of his intentions. "Questions that he may be opposed to answering without some 'encouragement' from me."
"Oh," said Luna meekly. She really didn't want to think about what Harry was going to do.
While Luna took Hermione up the stairs, Harry checked on the Flying Death and the two Death Eaters. As he assumed, both of the Death Eaters were dead and the Flying Death was merely unconscious. Harry waved his wand over the massive man and levitated him into the Granger's study. Once there, he set the Flying Death on the antique dentist chair and redoubled the chains. To be on the safe side, Harry added several body binding hexes, rendering him utterly immobile.
If everything was going to happen the way Harry thought it would, the Flying Death would be screaming in a short matter of time. Knowing that Luna was not accustomed to screams, Harry placed a Silencing Charm on the walls of the study for the blonde's comfort. Then, he woke up his prisoner.
"YOU WILL SUFFER!" the Flying Death immediately shouted. It was clear that the brute tried to struggle and break free, but the various charms and chains prevented any movement besides his jaw and mouth.
"Give it a rest why don't you?" asked Harry, browsing through the tools displayed on the wall of the study. The pair of old pliers caught his eye. As he took them down, he said to the Flying Death, "I'm going to ask you some questions. About who you are, what your plans are, where's your base of operations, and so forth. And you'll answer each and every one of them."
"THE FLYING DEATH WILL NOT GIVE FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY THE SATISFACTION!"
"Oh, I think you'll change your tune once I tug one of your teeth out of your skull," said Harry, standing over the Flying Death, displaying the pliers.
The Flying Death eyed the tool and snarled, "FOUR-EYED MESSY HAIRED BOY DOESN'T HAVE THE-"
What ever insult he had in mind was cut off when Harry tapped his wand on the Flying Death's jaw and invisible hands pried his mouth open.
"Now, I'm going to do a test run and yank out one of your teeth for two reasons," Harry said, leaning over the bound man. "The first is to show that I do, in fact, have what it takes. The second is so that I can practice. You see it is tricky pulling teeth with an old pair of pliers; if I use too much force in my grip I'll shatter the tooth. But if I don't have enough strength in my hold, the pliers will slip off the tooth."
Carefully, Harry put the pliers in the Flying Death's mouth and a moment later, the brute let out a scream as his left primary molar was crushed.
"See, I told you if I applied too much force I'd shatter the tooth," Harry said over his prisoner's scream with a mock show of regret. "Oh well, it looks like I'll just have to do another practice run."
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Meanwhile, at the Wizengamot, the new Minister for Magic, Percy Weasley, was giving his acceptance speech to the gathered members of the Ministry and numerous reporters. His address was rousing to say the least. The speech, peppered with bold statements including "We shall purge the evil that plagues this great nation!" and "Times ahead will be harsh, but we are a brave and noble people and we will persevere!" had many Wizengamot members on their feet, cheering and exclaiming Minister Weasley's courage. Many were bowled over and empowered by the fact that Weasley did not hesitate or stutter when he bravely spoke Voldemort's name aloud, unlike his predecessor.
Besides being a fantastic speech that gave people hope, two things were unique about it; the first being that Percy had no notes or prepared script from which he read. He spoke openly from his heart. The second unique thing wasn't connected to the speech, it was however hidden in the podium from which Percy stood and was giving him a discreet blow-job while he spoke. You see, Mandy had been so turned on by the startling revelation of Percy's appointment, that she couldn't help herself. As he marched to the Wizengamot, Mandy kept attempting to kiss and fondle the new Minister. The power of Percy's new position acted as a powerful aphrodisiac for the witch and she couldn't help herself. Mandy was so randy that she even snuck into the hollow of the podium and promptly began fellating Percy when he started his speech.
Normally, when a man is receiving head, he finds it a touch difficult not grunting or groaning – especially near the end. But Percy drew upon Mandy's ministrations and the passion he felt from her mouth and tongue and added this empowerment to his speech. He turned what normally would've been a handicap (grunting doesn't help much when speaking to the public – unless the public is made up of trolls) and used it to his advantage. With the help of Mandy's talents, Percy channeled his passion and confidence into his speech.
When he came, Percy threw up his arms high over his head and shouted "VOLDEMORT WILL NOT SUCCEED! WE SHALL TRIUMPH OVER HIS EVIL!" The happy shouts and exuberant cheers from the crowd reverberated off of the walls as he unloaded himself into Mandy's mouth.
The members of the Wizengamot who had nominated Weasley, all of whom were Death Eaters in secret or their supporters, smiled to themselves, confident that Weasley was in their pocket. These Death Eaters each knew that Weasley's display of a new found ability to play the public would aid the Dark Lord when the proper time came.
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As quietly as he could, Ron crept out of his room. Well, as quietly as someone with two wands shoved firmly up their urethra can get – tiny, weak whimpers escaped his throat with each painful step. Ron had tried to remove the pieces of wood from his abused body, but the wands were jammed deeply and securely. Naked and still covered in various forms of filth, the besieged red-head slowly closed his door behind him, silently praying to TPTB that the door not squeak and awaken the five hideous witches that had appointed themselves his harem for some ungodly reason.
The five witches had used and abused Ron in many foul ways until they had all exhausted themselves again, and Ron seized this opportunity to make his escape. Of course Ron was no fool (obviously Ron was an idiot to believe he wasn't a fool), he couldn't just make a mad dash for the front door and run to safety; at least not while he was naked, covered with filth and waste, and with two wands sticking out of his bits. He had no intention of alerting anyone to his shame by running out of the Burrow in his current state. So Ron decided to sneak up into the attic. He was planning on scouring through the many storage trunks to find some old discarded clothes, then carefully finding a way to remove the two very painful wands and finally making his escape.
The trapdoor to the attic creaked slightly when Ron opened it, but the only sound he heard was the rattling snores of the ghoul that lived in the space above his room. Breathing a sigh of relief, the young wizard crawled into the attic.
As he searched through trunk after trunk (all of which seemed to be filled with baby clothes and therefore unsuitable), Ron once again contemplated what he had done to deserve such punishment. He had clearly somehow offended TPTB judging by the pains he had suffered. He quickly discounted his ill mannered nature, laziness, and seductions of Hermione and Luna because he believed those qualities and actions to be his strong points, and would have been commended, not punished.
While Ron rummaged through the tenth box, the ghoul rose from his slumber. What Ron had not and could not have known was the smell of his fear, Millicent's vaginal discharge, Violet's urine, and Marigold's fecal matter –all of which still clung to his head and body – had combined. And this blended aroma was very much like the scent that female ghouls give off during mating season, and this foul mix had roused the ghoul in more ways than one.
The only warning Ron got was a loud, animalistic grunt before he was introduced into a whole new world of pain and discomfort. If someone had the misfortune of witnessing what occurred in the attic that day, they could've assumed that the ghoul was assaulting Ron. Of course, to have come to this conclusion, this person would have to be terribly naive and would've convinced themselves that the ghoul was using his pelvis to savagely beat Ron's naked backside. A small whimpering voice in the back of Ron's head pointed out that the Ghoul, while now banging Ron, normally could bang the pipes for hours at a time. The savage pounding action caused the two wands to inflict even more pain in Ron's stunted willy. He began to sob uncontrollably as the Ghoul continued to ravage the redhead.
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The Flying Death was full of useful information. In fact he was a veritable fountain. He had supplied Harry with the location of Voldemort's new base, why Voldemort was out for Harry (apparently, Voldemort was under the impression that Harry was immensely powerful – which Harry believed could be used to his advantage), the Portkey Rope that was designed to take him back to Voldemort's base, and an interesting little tidbit regarding the Summoning Sapphire. During the course of his interrogation, Harry was forced to pull one tooth after another until the Flying Death was left with only three teeth.
"That was very helpful, thank you," Harry said patronizingly to the Flying Death, who was whimpering in pain. "However, since I like the idea that Voldemort thinks I'm super powerful, I can't just let you run free. I mean, you'd just tell him that I wasn't extremely powerful. And I can't have that."
Harry waved his wand at the Flying Death's neck and once again he was a fountain – this time spraying the room with his blood rather than spewing information.
As the Flying Death died, Harry strolled to the two Death Eater corpses. He removed their masks and transfigured their bodies into bits of parchment before lighting them on fire (it was one of the more effective ways of dealing with corpses that Harry knew). With masks in hand, Harry walked into the now gore covered study. He cast a Sticking charm on each of the Death Eater masks before attacking them to the Flying Death's chest. Then Harry retrieved the Portkey which had been tied around the dead man's bicep, and placed a Sticking Charm on it as well. After wrapping the Flying Death's hands around either end of the Portkey, Harry waved his wand and forced the dead body's arms to move, tugging on the rope and activating the Portkey. The young wizard smiled to himself, hoping that Voldemort would like his subtle message.
Once the Flying Death's body disappeared, Harry magically cleansed the study, erasing any trace of foul play. Finally, he marched up the stairs and found his two witches.
"We're leaving," he said briskly and made a Portkey. The three arrived back in the master bedroom of number four Privet Drive.
"Is she all right? Is my Mistress herself again?" Ginny asked desperately, still tied to the chair and lying on the floor. The red-head wanted them to say yes. More than that, she wanted her Mistress to wake up and beat her silly with her lovely crop.
"This isn't good," Luna whimpered. "Now we have the Order of the Phoenix and Death Eaters after us. How are we going to heal Hermione?"
"This is how," Harry said. He conjured a chair and placed the unconscious brunette on it. Then he magically bound her to it. Finally, he cast Rennervate, waking her up.
Hermione's head snapped up and began hurling insults once again, as if she had not been stunned at all.
"You foul degenerate! Scum. You're nothing more than a villainous monster who only thinks of sex and physical pleasure!"
"I've had enough of this shite," snapped Harry angrily. He waved his wand and magically shrunk the legs of the chair so that Hermione's face was level with his waist. As Harry unlatched his trousers, the colors in Hermione's head began to scream.
'FOUL!' 'DEGENERATE!' 'HE'S AN EVIL MAN!' and so forth.
Listening to these shouts, Hermione steeled herself. Regardless of this evil version of Harry's best efforts, she would not succumb. She would prevail, with the aid of the colors that Dumbledore instilled in her, over Harry's impending assault. He could do his worst to her, but Hermione would remain a pure, chaste, good girl!
She held onto this belief for a whole second after Harry pulled his organ free from his trousers. The brunette witch stared at his meat with wide, wonder filled eyes.
'No, turn away,' the colors implored.
'Be a good girl and don't look,' they begged.
'But… but that's a huge cock,' Hermione argued internally. The young witch seemed confused. She wanted to do as the colors told her, but that huge cock dangling in front of her eyes was a work of fine art. To turn away from such a beautiful masterpiece would be an offence to TPTB and the fine work They put into said huge cock.
'Don't give in,' the colors prayed.
'Be a good girl,' they repeated.
And Hermione listened. Despite the fact that it was a huge cock, Hermione redoubled her efforts and turned away from that beautiful hunk of trouser basilisk.
However, Harry had a plan and this plan did not include Hermione looking away. So, with his left hand, Harry took hold of Hermione's head and turned it so that it faced his bits.
"Harry, do you think this is wise?" asked Luna nervously.
"We can't waste time gallivanting around the country in hopes of curing her, not with two groups chasing after us," he answered.
'Close your eyes!' the colors shouted in Hermione's head. Before acquiescing to their commands, Hermione took a half second to take in that huge cock once more. Not to do so seemed wrong on several levels.
While still holding her head firmly in place, Harry placed his other hand around the base of his organ. He wielded the limp member like a whip and slapped it across Hermione's face, hitting her right cheek and dragging it across her nose and lips.
Her eyes fluttered, threatening to open involuntarily. The scent of his organ filled her nose like some exotic spice. The warmth of his rod make her closed lips tingle.
But still the colors persisted. 'He's a foul monster!' they said. 'Don't give him the gratification!'
'But that's a really big cock rubbing against my face,' Hermione told the colors. To her, the size, warmth and scent of the organ allowed this point of contention.
'Don't be a Scarlet Woman!' they scolded.
Obeying the colors and the proper behavior they preached, Hermione squeezed her eyes and mouth shut even more.
Harry slapped her once again, this time striking the left cheek and dragging it across her face. This process caused blood to flow into Harry's sizable organ. And as his willy throbbed and burned on her face, one of the colors announced:
'Wow! That is a big cock.'
'Don't you start,' another color yelled at the first.
'I'm just saying that it's a really big cock, is all,' the first defended. 'I'm not saying Hermione should be a Scarlet Woman and part her lips slightly so she can feel that big cock on the front of her teeth and gums am I?'
And that's exactly what Hermione did. The mere suggestion combined with the hot, meaty goodness dragging across her face was the excuse she needed. She parted her lips and the beefy organ pushed against her lips and gums, filling her mouth with that exotic spice.
'Look what you did,' a color snapped at its compatriot. 'Now she'll stick out the tip of her tongue to taste it!'
'You shouldn't have said that,' another color said, regrettably, because, as with the other joking suggestion, Hermione eagerly leapt at the chance.
The veins of his shaft grazed across the tip of Hermione's tongue. The taste of him rocketed through her mouth, down her throat and into her belly, making it clench up like a fist.
'No, Hermione, that's not like you,' a color pleaded. 'That's a bad and naughty girl who has sex for nasty pleasure instead of its sole and proper purpose of making babies!'
Remembering what she thought were her values, Hermione withdrew her tongue and sealed her mouth shut once again. But the brief taste of his manhood lingered and the naughty places in her mind and bits yearned for more.
From her position on the floor, Ginny heard the repeated slapping of flesh. She didn't know what her black-haired Master was slapping her loving Mistress with. Whatever it was, it sounded much thicker and heavier than her Mistress' exquisite crop nor did it have the same glorious firmness of it. Regardless of the fact that it wasn't her Mistress' crop, Ginny wanted to see what her cruel Master was beating her Mistress with. Perhaps, if Ginny was lucky, after her Master was finished with his punishment, her Mistress could wield the mystery tool and whip the masochistic witch like a bad dog.
Luna couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight before her. Harry's willy was growing harder and larger by the second. On the third slap, it was now hard enough to nudge Hermione's nose to the side as it passed. The fourth slap had produced a small amount of precum, leaving a tasty tail of clear liquid just under the brunette's nose, above her lip.
It was hanging there; a lasting reminder of his musky aroma, just under Hermione's nose! Her tongue danced behind her teeth, daring to dash out of her mouth to sample the warm liquid on her lip.
'This is wrong!' a color screamed. 'Harry's actions are vile and evil!'
Hermione struggled to obey the voices in her head, but the liquid of Harry's love was filling her nose with his beautiful scent! Tiny beads of sweat broke out all over the witch's face as Harry's organ slapped against her cheek for the fifth time.
With the pressure in his loins building up, Harry whacked his hardening manhood across Hermione's face once again. He needed his witch back – not only for the sex, but in her current state, Hermione was addled and her marvelous intellect was distracted by the utter nonsense that Dumbledore had implanted. He hoped that the sensation of his willy smacking her face would force Hermione's true self to reappear, not this preachy prude. And to be honest, slapping his cock across her face was a thrill, so not only was it necessary, it was entertaining to the wizard as well.
The sounds of the tool whipping her Mistress made Ginny wonder at to the identity of what tool her Master could be wielding. When he first began his loving punishment, the tool sounded limp, similar to how Ginny imagined a sock stuffed with pudding would sound. But now, the mystery item was hitting her Mistress' face with a dull, almost meaty, thud. Ginny strained her neck, trying to get a glimpse at her Master's tool (not knowing that it was, in fact, his tool).
Harry continued to whack the brainwashed witch over and over again until his organ became hard as steel. It was at this point that Hermione's resolve faltered. On the next pass, she opened her mouth wide.
'NO! DON'T DO IT, HERMIONE!' the colors screamed.
'THAT'S THE ACT OF A SCARLET WOMAN!'
'FIGHT IT! DON'T LET HARRY'S FOUL DEEDS CORRUPT YOU!'
'Oh, shut the fuck up,' Hermione told the colors as she tried to wriggle free from Harry's grasp. 'That's one big cock and it's just simply wrong not to do this!'
Harry looked down and saw Hermione, her eyes close but her mouth open, attempting to pull free. Eager to see if his plan had worked, he let her loose. With her head now freed, Hermione move forward and swallowed Harry's impressive organ whole. She shoved it into her mouth and pushed it down her throat until the wizard's pubic hair tickled her nose and his scrotum pressed against her chin.
"Oh, fuck me! That feels so-o-o good!" exclaimed Harry as his witch's throat worked on him, contracting and massaging his organ.
The colors screamed in protest. But somehow, their cries did not reach Hermione, not like they had before. Now, the colors sounded like voices drifting from another room; they were muted and distorted. When Hermione pulled back for air, all she heard was a whimper from the colors before they died out completely.
"Hi, Harry, did you miss me?" she asked before throwing herself back on his rod.
"More than words, baby," he said and ran his fingers through her bushy hair while she gobbled up his manhood.
"I missed you, too," added Luna, on the verge of tears. The blonde was overjoyed at the thought of having Hermione, and more importantly – Hermione's tongue, back.
Pulling back once more, Hermione said to Luna, "Get your bottom clean. Once I'm done with Harry, I'm going to show you how much I missed you."
Unlike Ron who had no recollection what had occurred when he was running around in a makeshift loin cloth referring to himself as "Ron the Magnificent," Hermione's superior brain retained everything that had been done to her. She remembered clearly that both Dumbledore and Molly Weasley had attempted to change her, to make her into a different person simply because they could. Dumbledore, with his so-called infinite wisdom and patience, brainwashed her, adjusting her thoughts and feelings just because he thought the young witch may have been corrupted. The old bastard hadn't even taken the time to ask Hermione a single question; he just charged ahead and took control of her mind simply because he could. And the fact that Molly used Dumbledore's tactics to instill a ridiculous set of inane morals enraged Hermione even further. That woman had no right to interfere with Hermione whatsoever!
However, Hermione had a more pressing issue to deal with prior to Dumbledore and Molly; that being Harry's heavy manhood bobbing in front of her face, dripping with her spit. Once she dealt with Harry, she'd decide what to do with Dumbledore and Molly. Then Hermione saw Luna applying "Harry's Bum Mint Foaming Gel" to her own bottom in anticipation of the brunette's tongue. 'Okay, I'll deal with the old man and the frigid cunt after I suck off Harry and tongue Luna,' Hermione amended internally. But then Hermione's eyes drifted to Ginny and she recalled how the red-head had begged Hermione to beat her. A naughty part of Hermione so wanted to fulfill Ginny's wish – not only because she was a Weasley and therefore deserved to be beaten, but the sense of power that it gave Hermione thrilled her and made her heart pound with excitement. And of course, since she was thinking of the Weasleys, her mind wandered to Ron and his new harem. That frigid cunt's shrill voice had told everybody in Grimmauld Place about Ron's new blessing. Truly, the cosmos was an unfair and cruel place. How could that dickless ponce have a harem when Harry, a sex-god in mortal form, didn't have one? Hermione realized that she had to correct this great injustice, it was imperative. Therefore, her plans for Dumbledore and Molly would have to wait until these other, more important, issues were handled.
Focusing her attention back to the wonderful organ in front of her face, Hermione's tongue darted out and lapped up a thick string of her own spit that was threatening to fall off of Harry's tip. "Do you know who else I missed," she said after swallowing her spit, looking up at Harry.
"Was it me?" asked Ginny, hopefully still tied to the chain on the floor.
"Why the hell would anyone miss you, you worthless skank?" returned Hermione without even bothering to look in Ginny's general direction. "I rather have festering boils develop between my toes before I'd miss you."
"A-ah," a shuttering breath escaped Ginny's lips. With tears of happiness flowing freely down her cheeks, the red-head muttered in a joyful sob as she passed out from the strength of her orgasm, "Th-thank you, Mistress."
"Get me out of this ridiculous outfit, Harry, I want to say 'hello' to my girls," requested Hermione.
More than happy to oblige, Harry pulled out his wand and waved it over Hermione, removing both her outfit and the invisible ropes that had bound her to the chair.
Now completely naked, Hermione cuddled her breasts like the precious things they were, and spoke affectionately, cooing to them, "Hullo babies, did you miss Mummy?"
She hoisted up her left tit and kissed her nipple before repeating the action with her right. While still holding her right boob, Hermione let the left drop and took hold of Harry's summer sausage. She guided Harry forward and touched his crown to her right nipple. Playfully, she rolled the spongy head over her hard nipple, dragging it over the nub and areola. After a few moments, Hermione switched hands and lifted up her left tit; so that she could continue this play on her other nipple.
"This is fun and all, but I prefer your mouth," said Harry.
"My, aren't we impatient," she said with a sultry smirk.
With a very wet "GRRK" sound, Hermione impaled her mouth, throat and face on his willy once more. The "GRRK" sound was followed by even more wet sounds like "THHK" "RGGT" and "WHOOMP" as Hermione pushed back and forth, shoving and pulling his organ in and out and up and down.
He filled her up and Hermione basked in it. She could feel every bit of him as she forced his willy down her throat again and again. His taste and warmth made her sex flood and ache. The witch groaned and moaned on him, knowing the vibrations did wonders for him.
The brunette continued to what is sometimes referred to as "throat-shag" Harry for quite awhile. When Harry finally did reach the heights of ecstasy, Hermione's face was rather messy; various liquids such as her and Harry's sweat, her saliva and his ejaculate dripped in great globs off of her nose, lips, chin, and cheeks.
Still panting, Hermione said, "Luna, get your bottom over here right now. It's high time we gave Harry that show!"
What Hermione hadn't noticed until she finished her command – because she had been so focused on Harry's manhood – was that Luna was already on the bed on all fours, cleaned out, with her bottom wiggling up in the air, waiting impatiently for Hermione's talented tongue.
To Be Continued