Crack'd Mirror
by cloneserpents
Chapter Twelve
Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing, et al, and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made or asked for.
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.
Major Ron and general Weasley bashing ahead.
Inspired by classic Star Trek "Mirror Mirror"
Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, in Remus Lupin's shoddy cottage, a Quick-Quotes Quill continued to scribble furiously. The charmed quill had already written hundreds of pages in a massive, leather-bound tome Remus had conjured. And there were hundreds more yet to be written.
"And lo, the Divine said upon me, 'Go forth, My son, and spread the Word of My Love.'" Remus quoted as if someone had told him exactly what to say. "'And My Children shall know of Me so that they may suckle at the Mammilla of My Love.'
"Staring up at Her divine, round gloriousness, this humble servant listened and joyously obeyed…"
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In the still of the morning, Pansy crept out of the smallest bedroom, leaving the slumbering Dursleys behind. Daphne was rubbish at conjuring proper ropes; Pansy had slipped out of the bounds just moments before. Of course despite the shoddily cast restraints, the Slytherin Princess had been struggling against the ropes for hours and had the bright red welts on her wrists to prove it. Ignoring the stinging pain caused by the rope burns, Pansy silently walked through the hall and down the stairs. She needed to find her wand to create a Portkey and return to the Dark Lord, tell him where Potter was, and most importantly receive her prize for her loyal service of Potter as her personal sex-slave.
She crept into the living room. Thankfully everyone was asleep (no doubt exhausted from a sex-romp that Pansy avidly wished she had been a part of). Pansy snuck by her traitorous house-mates who did not want to do their proper duty and deliver Potter to the Dark Lord. If they had helped in her mission, Pansy would've shared Potter with them; perhaps she would've generous enough to allow them to touch his magnificent member every other day or so. But Greengrass and Davis were fools! Once she turned Potter over to the Dark Lord, Pansy would mock the two witches with her very hung sex-toy. She would waggle his giant, meaty cock at them, taunting them with what they could never again touch. Dismissing her former compatriots, both naked and draped over the couch, Pansy paused by three bodies lying on top of each other like a stack. The witch on the bottom was Granger, the odd Lovegood girl was in the middle, and perplexingly, another Granger was on the top! Pansy was curious as to why there were two versions of the mudblood (and more than slightly envious of Lovegood whose face was pillowed between the two mudbloods and their truly wondrous titties), but pushed it out of her mind. She had more important things to do. The Slytherin was determined to find her wand, make a Portkey, and escape. She did however become distracted when she saw Potter naked and lying on his back. His lovely organ was limp. Pansy felt that such a beautiful thing needed to be erect. It was an affront to TPTB who created such a glorious organ to have it soft. As Pansy looked at the beautiful flaccid length of meat, she thought it was silently begging for her attention. After licking her lips, Pansy pushed this urge to the back of her mind as well. Once she received her just reward from the Dark Lord, she would have plenty of opportunities to lavish Potter's cock with wet kisses (from both sets of her currently needy lips).
She saw it! A few inches of the handle of her wand was jutting out of the blood-traitor Weasley's quim. The little bint was still holding Pansy's wand in her sex, just as Potter had commanded her to the day before. Slowly and gently, Pansy bent down over the sleeping Weasley and took hold of her wand.
Just as the Slytherin began to pull it out of Weasley, Ginny-Pig's head snapped up, woken by the motion of the wand. The red-head glared at Pansy with hatred burning in her eyes. As far as Ginny-Pig was concerned, only two people were allowed to remove the wand from her cunny: her Master and Mistress. Therefore Ginny-Pig saw Pansy as a threat – the black-haired witch was attempting to pull the wand out of her without her Master's or Mistress' permission. If Pansy succeeded, then Ginny-Pig would be punished with a severe beating and, more importantly, not rewarded with a severe beating and allowed to clean the toilet with her tongue once her Mistress had relieved herself. In order to receive her glorious, filthy reward, Ginny-Pig could not allow Pansy to pull the wand free. So, with the hope of licking the toilet clean swelling in her heart, the red-head clamped down on the foreign object.
And clamp down she did.
The exercise Ginny-Pig had performed the day before had done wonders for her vaginal muscles. Her sex was now like the proverbial steel vise. It held onto the smooth wand firmly as if it had a strong Sticking Charm on it.
Pansy stared wide eyed at Ginny-Pig as she tugged futilely at her wand. "Let go, you stupid little twat!" she hissed under her breath. She tried to get a better grip on the wand's handle with her other hand, but the small amount sticking out of the ginger's vagina denied her grasp.
A low grumbling escaped Ginny-Pig's throat.
"Did you just growl at me?" the black-haired witch asked in shock. In desperation, Pansy yanked at her wand. The wand did no budge. Ginny-Pig let out another growl. "What are you; an attack dog?"
SNAP!
"Oh, shite!" Pansy moaned. She held up the tiny nub of her wand to her face. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her wand had broken clean in two. Blinking the tears from her eyes, Pansy grasped onto the hope that there was still a chance she could salvage her wand. All she needed to do was reach into the blood-traitor's cunt, pull it out and attach the two pieces with spell-o-tape. It wouldn't work perfectly, but it should be enough for her to create a Portkey.
As if she knew what Pansy had in plan, Ginny-Pig gritted her teeth and squeezed harder.
SNAP!
"No, no, no," Pansy sputtered. Somehow, Ginny-Pig had managed to snap the wand inside her vagina. Even if she could get the pieces out of the red-head, it was doubtful if Pansy could get the wand to work properly. Ginny-Pig bared her teeth and growled again.
SNAP!
"You fucking whore!"
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
"STOP IT!" shouted Pansy. With each snap, Pansy's chances of salvaging her wand diminished. All the spell-o-tape in the world couldn't get a wand broken in seven pieces to work properly.
Then, just to prove to Pansy that she couldn't take her prize of a beating and toilet cleaning from her, Ginny-Pig squeezed her eyes shut and strained harder than she ever did in her entire life.
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
"What do we have here?" asked Harry.
Pansy spun around to find Potter standing in his naked glory behind her. The black-hair witched froze, stunned by the beauty of Harry's meat dangling between his legs. Following her Mistress' standing command, Ginny squeezed her eyes closed in order not to see her Master and his glory.
"You were trying to escape again, weren't you?" he asked rhetorically.
"Sorry," Pansy squeaked.
He sighed in disappointment. Waving his wand, Pansy's hair coiled and slithered as if each strand was a snake. Her hair moved and slithered, forming itself into a tight ponytail. Harry took hold of the newly formed ponytail with his free hand and tapped his wand to the Slytherin's head. With a soft pop, Pansy's hair was magically released from her scalp.
"MY HAIR!" she screeched. Her hands flew to her head. Her fingers and palms ran over her smooth, bald scalp. There wasn't one single strand left. Great globs rained from her eyes. Not only had her precious wand been destroyed, but now she was bald. It was all too much for Pansy. She sobbed; "MY HAIR! MY BEAUTIFUL HAIR!"
Leaving the crying bald witch, Harry stood in front of Ginny-Pig. He dangled Pansy's hair, still formed into a tight ponytail, in front of the ginger's face and said; "You did a good job stopping Pansy. As your reward, you are to eat her hair."
Ginny-Pig's heart leapt as she blindly reached for her prize. When she grasped the silky hair in her hands, she instantly brought it to her mouth and began munching on it. She jerked and pulled a thick bunch of long strands free from the ponytail. Working the muscles in her mouth and throat, Ginny-Pig began to swallow the strand. This act blocked her windpipe and denied her air. But this was a trivial matter for Ginny-Pig – her Master had rewarded her and, by Merlin, she was going to relish it! Once the long strand of hair had cleared her throat and rested in her belly, Ginny-Pig took two deep breaths before pulling out another clump of hair from the ponytail and repeated the arduous process of swallowing it down.
"NO!" screamed Pansy as she watched Ginny-Pig eat her hair.
"Oh goodness, looking at your bald head has gotten me rather hot," Harry commented. He turned to Pansy, showing her his growing organ. "Then again, a stiff breeze can get me randy so that isn't saying much."
She looked between the ginger eating her hair enthusiastically and the great pink python rising. She felt so low that she latched onto the hope and promise that hardening manhood offered. Sniffling, the Slytherin scampered on all fours over to Potter and swallowed his plump crown. While still crying over her lost hair, Pansy began to pleasure Potter.
As she sucked, licked and bobbed on his cock, Harry tapped his wand to Pansy's neck. A black silk chocker with a mother-of-pearl broach materialized around her neck. "This will insure you won't escape. It's keyed into both this house and Hermione – my Prime witch, not the brain damaged one. If you leave the house without my explicit permission or if you wander more than five feet away from my Prime witch when outside the walls of this house, this aptly named choker will choke you until you die."
Pansy gulped, not only swallowing her fear but a bit of Harry's pre-cum.
"That's enough," he said, pulling himself out of Pansy's mouth. He spun her around so that she was facing Ginny-Pig who was still passionately eating the Slytherin's hair and slammed his cock into her sex.
For the next twenty-nine minutes, Pansy forgot about her ruined wand and her shaved head. Even though she was watching the red-head enjoying her follicle meal, Pansy's mind was filled with the joys of Harry's large and skilled organ driving her to the heights of ecstasy time and time again. However, she was reminded of her new-shorn state when Harry pulled out and ejaculated on her bald scalp. He used the head of his organ to smear the sticky discharge over her smooth hairless head as she cried pitifully.
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"Oh, Dolores, that was amazing!" breathed Molly. The two Rubenesque witches lay on the kitchen floor, naked and glistening in their shared afterglow.
"What was amazing, my love? What I did to you with my fingers, tongue, and ear? Or what I did to you with the ladle, floo powder, and my toes?"
"Everything! Although I never knew floo powder could be used in such a way," giggled Molly as her flush renewed, causing her voluminous flesh to brighten and burn. "After I make you a hearty breakfast, I'll return the favor and make you scream my name over and over until your voice goes hoarse!"
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Luna was one very happy witch. Currently, she was lying on top of Hermione Jean while Hermione lay on top of the blonde meaning; Luna's face was encapsulated by the two brunette's spectacular breasts. They were like four big, soft, warm pillows. Luna felt as if she were home. As far as Luna was concerned, she could stay in this highly comfortable position all day long. Alas, as all good things, this too had to end.
"Hermione, Luna, wake up," Harry commanded. "We've got an errand to run."
"Can't we do it later?" Luna's request was muffled for her mouth was obscured by Hermione's left tit. The vibrations from Luna's voice as well as her lips brushing and teeth gently scraping her flesh sent a shiver up Hermione's spine.
"No, no, we've things to do," Harry said firmly.
"But I'm rather comfortable," Luna said, making no effort to remove her mouth from Hermione's left breast. As before, another pleasant shiver raced through Hermione. The blonde wanted to suckle on Hermione's glorious breast like a babe at her mother's teat.
"How about this; once we get back, I'll bum shag you, then Hermione will lick your anus clean while your face is pressed between Hermione Jean's boobs the entire time," offered Harry.
As the blonde wriggled out from between the two brunettes, she commented; "You really know how to sweeten a deal, Harry."
Even though Hermione enjoyed Luna talking through her tit, she had to admit that the blonde was correct. The thought of licking Harry's warm, sticky mess out of Luna's "no-no" hole was exciting.
"Do I have to go, too?" asked Hermione Jean. "I'm still very, very sore and I don't think I can walk properly just yet."
"No, you can stay," he replied. "We just have to go to Olivander's and get Hermione and Luna some wands since the Order has theirs."
"Won't that be a problem Harry? The Order is obviously looking for us and Ollivander is sure to alert them to our arrival," Hermione pointed out.
"That's exactly why we're taking Ginny-Pig as distraction," he said. "Now get dressed."
Hermione and Luna headed up to the master bedroom while Harry approached Tracy and Daphne. "Our new friend is sore. See what you can do to ease any discomfort she might be feeling."
"How would we do that, Master?" asked Tracy.
"I'm certain a nice tongue massage will do the trick," he said.
The two Slytherins smiled before leaping on Hermione Jean, both shouting "Tongue massage!"
As two of his harem witches slurped loudly and one began to moan behind him, Harry looked at Ginny-Pig, who was taking a kip after her unconventional meal. She was curled up in a ball across the room next to Pansy who still cried over her lost hair. He marched to Ginny-Pig, intent on hoisting her up by a fistful of hair because that's what he felt like doing, when he suddenly tripped over something.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed after crashing to the floor. He turned his head back and saw mousy-Ginny cowering in the corner.
"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to trip you, harry," she said in a barely audible whisper.
"That's odd, I didn't see you there," he said, getting back up.
"that happens a lot to me," she spoke. The meek witch spoke so softly, Harry had to strain his ears just to hear her. "people tend to forget i'm around. i don't mind it though; i've gotten used to it, harry."
"That's good for you," he said, not really caring about any social issues mousy-Ginny might have. "But from now on, you don't get to call me Harry. Only my harem girls that I really like can call me by name. For you, it's Master."
"yes, master, i understand," she said and seemed to slip further into the shadows despite there being no shadows to slip into.
"Can I call you by name, Master?" Daphne looked up from her morning snack with her face wet from Hermione Jean's juices.
"Hmm," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "No, you and the other one licking Hermione Jean have to call me Master. I like you, but if I let you call me 'Harry' then any new members that will join my harem will ask and it'll get bothersome. It's better to just nip it in the bud before it gets to be a nuisance. Besides, I like being called Master."
"Yes, Master," Daphne said, perfectly happy with using the title.
"Thank you. Master," Tracy said before merrily returning with Daphne to lick and suck on various, sensitive parts of Hermione Jean.
Now that they had been dealt with, Harry returned to the task at hand. He marched over to Ginny-Pig, grabbed a fistful of her coppery hair, and roughly picked her off the ground. His muscular arm held the witch up, letting her feet dangle a few inches off the floor. The pain caused Ginny-Pig's sex to flow freely and rapidly.
"Thank you, Master!" she cried out as tears of pain and joy streamed down her face as other warm fluids poured down the insides of her thighs. For her, there was no better way to wake up. Except perhaps if her Master roughly picked her up by her hair like he was doing now while her lovingly cruel Mistress punched her fists deep into both of Ginny-Pig's holes (or, if she was truly lucky – both fists into one hole!).
"Whore, I have a job for you," he said. "You're to be a distraction while I take your Mistress and Luna shopping."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."
Harry released his grip and Ginny-Pig fell to the floor with a painful crash and a scream of ecstasy. Brushing his hands, Harry shouted up the stairs. "Are you two done dressing yet?"
"Merlin, you're impatient," Hermione commented as she and Luna came down the stairs. The blonde was dressed in a set of gossamer blue robes that did little to conceal her slender frame and naked flesh while Hermione wore an outfit that openly scoffed at the traditional definition of "clothes." Three patches of yellow leather that left the edges of her wide areolas exposed and barely covered her well-trimmed bush were held in precarious place by two lengths of crimson ribbons in a "V" shape over both shoulders and meeting at her crotch. She wore thigh-high stiletto boots that matched the small patches covering her nipples and sex. Hermione spun to show off the ribbons wedged between her round buttocks. Acres of beautiful taut flesh were proudly shown off.
"Fantastic, let's get going," he said, giving Hermione's naked bum a strong slap of approval. Harry waved a wand over Ginny-Pig, conjuring a simple black robe to hide her nakedness while Luna and Hermione donned traveling robes.
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As Harry, Hermione, Luna and Ginny-Pig left via Portkey, the mysterious figure continued to watch Number Four from across the street. If anybody had been passing by, they would have heard a soft whisper; "I need to be there. It's my right by birth. My destiny!"
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Looking in the mirror, Draco eyed the heavy black bags under his eyes. He had not slept a wink in two days. He was still plagued by the actions he had performed with Lola and the Dark Lord. Then to compound the insult to his fragile psyche, the night previously, he saw his mother duck under the covers to orally stimulate Tommy, the lowly clown. The blond wizard shuttered in disgust as images flooded his mind.
A gentle rapping on his door drew the young wizard out of his musings. He opened the door and the scowl vanished from his face.
"My Lady, what brings you here?" he said, bowing to show Lady Voldemort the respect she deserved.
"I have two requests of you, my young friend," she replied and strolled into Draco's room. Each step was light and elegant. Each step also caused her to sway her hips from side to side which caught Draco's attention and made his heart skip a beat. While his eyes were fixed on her (seemingly) firm bottom, he said; "Your wish is my command, Milady."
"That is good," she said, smiling. "I need to know as much about Harry Potter as possible."
"Yes, Milady," he gulped, mesmerized by her alabaster skin.
"Can you find out where the Muggles he lives with reside?"
"I think I can, but why, Ma'am? Surely the Order of the Phoenix would've captured him if he had returned there."
"One can never be too thorough, Draco. Besides, if I were hiding from two groups, I'd go to the one place they'd never look." There was a twinkle in her red eyes that enchanted Draco.
"I'll ask Professor Snape where Potter lives."
"Thank you, my friend."
"What is the other thing you need of me, Milady?" he asked.
In response, Lady Voldemort let her robes drop to the floor, revealing her supple, white flesh which glowed radiantly in the morning light to the young wizard. "I need your cock."
The object in question stood up in Draco's pants, ready and willing to fulfill Lady Voldemort's desires.
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Albus Dumbledore was the lowest he felt since he lost James and Lily Potter. Not only had the evil version of Harry kidnapped poor Hermione Granger, Luna, Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley, but the fiend was able to sneak into Hogwarts and murder Alastor Moody right under his nose!
He needed something, anything to chase away the heaviness in his soul. Reaching into his desk drawer, Dumbledore pulled out his virility potion and took a sip directly from the bottle. As his manhood rose, Dumbledore shuffled out of his office and made his way to the greenhouse. He needed to drown his sorrows in Pomona's bountiful, spongy flesh.
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The bell attached to the door of Ollivander's Wand Shop jingled, announcing a new customer. The odd little man with strange, moon-like eyes trotted from his workshop up to the front of the store to greet his customer. However, before he could round the corner, he heard a young woman's voice command; "Go distract the nice man like I told you to, Ginny-Pig."
Much to Ollivander's surprise, he saw Ginevra Weasley (oak, eight and a half inches, good for domestic charms) scurry around the corner on all fours like a wild animal.
Before Ollivander could even utter a word of greeting or surprise, the young witch jumped on him, tackling him to the floor. Like a coppery-hair whirlwind, the Weasley girl began to tug and tear at Ollivander's trousers.
"My girl; what in Merlin's name are you doing?" he demanded while Ginny-Pig pulled down his trousers and under-things. Without saying a word, Ginny-Pig popped the old wizard's wrinkly, flaccid organ into her mouth. Ollivander had not had the pleasure of a witch's company in some time, and it had been even longer since he had a witch do to him what Ginny-Pig was doing right now. So it was completely understandable that once Ginny-Pig began sucking, Ollivander's eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh, I see. Very good, carry on."
While Ginny-Pig sucked off the old wizard, Hermione and Luna began searching through the thousands of wands to find proper replacements.
"Harry, what's that thing Hermione Jean said she and her version of Harry were looking for?" asked Luna as she tested and discarded several wands.
"She called them Horcruxes," Hermione offered as she, too, tried out one wand after the other.
"Back in my universe, the King studied Horcruxes as a way of obtaining immortality, but never created one: the price was too high. Basically it's a way of cheating death and attaining a form of immortality by anchoring your soul to the mortal plane," he replied, watching his harem witches move about. "Basically, through a ritual involving a murder, the person is able to place a fragment of his soul into an object thereby anchoring his spirit to this mortal plane."
"Do you have a Horcrux, Harry?" asked Luna. The wand she held shot out a stream of brilliant sparkles. "Oo-oh, I found one!"
"Good God, no! I don't have a Horcrux," he replied with a scoff. "In order to properly create a Horcrux, the person has to first remove themselves from the natural life-cycle – that being birth, life, procreation, and death."
"How does one remove themselves from the life cycle?" asked Hermione.
"Easy, for a witch they magically remove their ovaries so that they can't procreate and make new life," he informed. "For a bloke, they have to castrate themselves. Immortality or not, I'm not cutting off my own testicles."
"Ow," Luna muttered and cringed at the thought.
"Is that why Voldemort's voice is so high?" pondered Hermione.
"I like – and use – my boys too much to lop them off," Harry said.
Just then, Ginny-Pig scurried out from the stacks of wand-boxes and genuflected before Hermione. "It is done, Mistress. Ollivander came and is now sleeping like a baby. He'll never know that you were here."
"Oh, I just saw a flaw in our plan. Won't he know that Ginny-Pig was here?" asked Luna. "And then won't Ollivander tell the Order that she was here and then, conceivably, won't they come to the conclusion that Ginny-Pig sucked him off so that we could replace Hermione's and my missing wands?"
"No, there's no flaw. I'll just go back there and Obliviate him," the black-haired wizard said casually.
"Then why'd we have Ginny-Pig distract him at all?" the blonde asked, curious as to Harry's thought-process. "Why didn't we just Obliviate Ollivander from the start?"
"What else are we going to do with the ginger whore?" he returned. Ginny-Pig shivered with desire at her Master's words: not only had he loved her enough to call her a foul name, but the depths of his affection allowed him to use her in such a delightfully cruel fashion.
"Ah, I see your point," Luna said to the black-hair wizard in understanding.
As Harry went off to deal with Ollivander, Hermione turned her attention to her little red-haired toy. "Did you swallow Ollivander's cum?"
"No, Mistress, I spat it out onto the floor."
Like a shot, Hermione's hand flew, slamming into Ginny-Pig's face. The red-haired witch's orgasm struck before she hit the ground.
"You worthless whore!" shouted Hermione. "How dare you pleasure someone then not swallow?"
"I-I-mmm- so-sorry, M-Mistress," sputtered Ginny-Pig as she rode her ecstasy.
Hermione pulled another wand from a box, this one finally shooting out sparks. With a wicked twinkle in her eyes, Hermione whipped her new wand down. A bright, orange rope of magic extended from the tip of the wand and lashed Ginny-Pig's arse with a loud crack, tearing her robe open to reveal the whip mark on her naked flesh. The submissive witch yelped in pain and pleasure. Hermione flogged her pet with the magic whip again and again until Ginny-Pig's robes were in tatters and dozens of angry red welts covered her backside. The red-head's labia was just as red as her bottom, but that was due entirely to the multiple orgasms she had just experienced.
"Get back there and lick Ollivander's cold spunk off the ground!" spat Hermione. As Ginny-Pig crawled toward the back of the shop, the brunette gave her naked rump a hard, swift kick. Ginny-Pig fell to the ground and thrashed as her juices flowed from her cunny.
"Are you that upset that she didn't swallow?" asked Luna as Ginny-Pig continued to writhe.
"No, I just wanted to hit her. If she had swallowed, I probably would've said something along the lines of 'how dare you swallow an old man's discharge, you foul, disgusting cunt' and then beat her arse like I just did," the brunette replied as her large nipples hardened, creating peaks in the leather that barely covered her areolas. "In fact, I'll probably do just that when she's finished licking up Ollivander's cum."
A moment later, Harry returned to the front of the shop. "You ladies ready to head back to our temporary headquarters?"
"Can we stop by a potion supply store first?" Hermione requested. "There are some potions I'd like to brew."
"How about we just nick what you need from Hogwarts," offered Harry. "And while we're there, perhaps we can stop by and kill Dumbledore."
"O-oh, let's head back to the Dursleys' first. There's something there that will help you find Dumbledore!" announced Hermione.
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His physical desires momentarily satisfied and quenched, the ghoul plopped onto his back and began snoring.
As virtually gallons of hot ghoul-cum poured out of his gaping arse, Ron wondered what he had done to deserve this. It seemed as if the universe had a personal vendetta against him. He had done nothing wrong. He was a good, kind person. Yet he suffered as no one had suffered before. He still couldn't get the sight of his mother and the toad woman in the throes of sexual ecstasy out of his mind.
"Oi, girls, the ghoul's done wif 'im," announced Marigold.
"Yeah, it's our turn again!" cheered Bergamot as the five hideous witches charged at the assaulted red-head.
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Lady Voldemort took another drag on her long, thin cigarette. Thin wisps of smoke snaked around her lips, teeth, and tip of her tongue as the smoke trails rose to the ceiling. Her pale body glowed with sweat, making her skin look like polished porcelain.
"I do like young men. They have such vitality," she commented throatily and took another drag.
Draco beamed with pride. He had cummed twice in a row and, unlike the time he had deflowered his fellow Slytherins, he had done so without the aid of potions. He had performed two consecutive times with his natural, teenage virility. Once more, the experience with the exotically beautiful Lady Voldemort had chased away the horrid memories of his mother with Tommy the Clown and Lola. The evil witch's heavy, pink tipped breasts bouncing and her hot sex gripping his organ had acted like a healing elixir for his troubled soul.
"Pardon, Milady, but can I ask why you want to know where Potter's Muggle relatives live? Even if he is there, the Blood Protection will save him from any harm," he asked, resisting the urge to snuggle against her sweaty bosom because that would seem desperate, clingy, and unbecoming of a Slytherin Prince.
"The best spot to hide is a place where no one will look for you. I have a strong feeling that Potter has returned to his relatives' home simply because no one would bother looking for him there. I plan to take out this world's version of Potter just as I did to my own. My version of Potter, Harriet was her name, had the exact same protections. I observed her house and the wards around it for days. I discovered that the Blood Protection only protects against magical attacks, not mundane."
With the burning cigarette held loosely in her off hand, Lady Voldemort slinked out of the bed and sashayed to her discarded robes. She bent over, showing off her recently twice-shagged cunny to Draco and pulled a long, curved dagger from the pocket. Presenting the dagger, she continued. "Knowing that the Blood Protection wouldn't work on this lovely tool here, I snuck into the Muggle home in the middle of the night, crept up to little Harriet's room, and pushed the blade between her ribs as she slept. Sometimes, the simple, direct approach is so much better than the overly elaborate plans."
The sight of Lady Voldemort's luscious body and the thought of righteous revenge against the fiend who murdered his father caused Draco's loins to stir once more. With her rich red eyes locked on Draco's growing manhood, Lady Voldemort purred; "That's why I like young men," before straddling the boy's ankles, "you can make up any shortcomings in experience or technique with a quick recovery." She leaned forward and snaked her tongue around his engorged head, quickly coating it with her hot saliva. She took another drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke on his spit covered crown. A smile stretched her ruby lips as Draco's cock twitched in impatience. "This time, Draco, I want you to cum on my titties. I love the feeling of hot spunk splashing on my skin. It's the one experience I can't get enough of."
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After returning to the Dursley home and retrieving the Marauders' Map from this universe's Harry's discarded school trunk, evil-Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny-Pig used a Portkey to travel to the Shrieking Shack. They snuck through the hidden tunnel under the Whomping Willow and crept across the field toward the castle.
At the main doors, Harry spoke; "Okay, Luna, head to the potion's lab and strip the place bare. Use the whore here," he said, thumbing Ginny-Pig, "as your pack mule."
"You don't have to bother with featherweight charms either," added Hermione. "The pig's legs are so thick from carrying around her fat arse that she could hold up the Astronomy Tower."
Ginny-Pig felt her own hot moisture flow down the insides of her thighs.
"And while you and the useless pack mule are robbing the lab, Hermione and I will track down the old man," concluded Harry.
As Luna and Hermione's personal toy left for the dungeons, Hermione pulled out the Marauders' Map. Tapping her new wand to the parchment, she stated, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
After scanning the magical map for a moment, the brunette announced, "He's in the Greenhouse with Professor Sprout."
"I wonder what he's doing in the Greenhouse?" he asked.
"I've noticed that Professor Dumbledore spent a good amount of time there," she answered innocently.
"Let's go kill us a manipulative, old bastard," he said cheerily.
"If we're lucky, I can hear him beg for forgiveness before he dies!" An eager smile brightened Hermione's face.
However, "lucky" did not describe the situation that greeted Harry and his brunette witch when they arrived at the greenhouse. Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth as she struggled not to vomit while Harry turned a nasty shade of green.
"Good Lord," he muttered in fear. His mind had difficulty comprehending the act he saw before him. At first, it looked like a twig attempting to merge with a giant pink watermelon. Then he noticed the abundant amounts of wrinkles on the twig and realized that it was, in fact, a very naked and sweaty Dumbledore, thrusting and gyrating into an overly fat and equally naked, sweaty woman laying on one of the greenhouse's workbenches.
"It's like a pencil trying to burrow into a large, fleshy bowling ball," commented Hermione, gulping down some bile.
Harry tried not to notice the waves of flesh and cellulite that rippled through the fat woman's body with each of Dumbledore's eager, almost animalistic, thrusts.
"That's Dumbledore, you know," informed Hermione who, tragically, couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight undulating and thrusting before her.
"I figured that," he replied, ignoring his lurching stomach.
"You can kill him now, please. Don't hesitate on my behalf; I don't need to hear him beg for forgiveness anymore," she said, hoping that Harry would quickly kill the old wizard so that she wouldn't have to bear witness to this any longer. Sprout's body looked like a pink ocean in a storm, cresting and crashing wildly and Dumbledore was bodysurfing the waves.
"No," he said. Not only did Harry not want to get closer to the fornicating couple, but he wanted Dumbledore to suffer before he died. And killing the old man who had tampered with one of his witches while said wizard was in the heights of ecstasy would not be satisfactory to Harry. He wanted the manipulative bastard to suffer before he died. More so for having forced Harry to experience the current scene in front of him.
However, Harry did get an idea. He realized that due to Dumbledore's extremely advanced age that the elderly man had to be using a potion to achieve an erection. Harry smiled. He had just found a way to make Dumbledore's life utterly miserable before he killed him.
"C'mon, let's go to the potion's lab and help Luna," he said, leading the brunette away from the greenhouse and the naked, sweaty horror that it held within.
When they arrived in the lab, they found Luna stacking scores of jars, bottles, and pots on Ginny-Pig's back. The stack was so high that Luna was levitating items up to reach the top. The red-head's legs trembled under the weight.
"I don't know why I've been lugging a bag full of books around this castle all these years when I could've have this cunt do the work for me," the blonde commented happily. "Did you know that Snape had a batch of Polyjuice in the cupboard? Of course I'm nicking it; who knows when that might come in handy."
"That's nice," Harry said in a detached manner.
"Did you kill him?"
"No, we found him shagging Sprout," Hermione said, frowning deeply – both over the missed opportunity of murdering the old man who had brainwashed her and the memory of the sight of his skinny, wrinkly bottom trying its very best to bury itself in Sprout's voluminous folds.
"Oh, that's why Dumbledore spent all that time in the greenhouse," muttered Luna as her face paled. "It must've looked like a Tallemark attempting to hump a Snarfling."
"I have an idea on how to make Dumbledore's life wretched," announced Harry.
"You do?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah, it deals with his potion that makes him hard so he can fuck that whale."
As Luna and Hermione spent the next ten minutes stealing almost every ingredient in the lab, Harry busied himself by throwing the contents of various vials and jars into a bubbling cauldron.
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"This is a very nice place," Arthur said, examining their cabaña on a small private island in Abaco in the Bahamas.
"Let's change into our swimming suits and jump in the ocean," Tonks said brandishing her wand. "We really need to take a break from the sex. It's been incredible, and all, but I'm getting real sore down there." As she waved the wand over her clothes, she commented; "The water's so blue it looks like someone cast an Ink Charm on it."
With a pop, Tonks transfigured her robes into a tiny little two piece with red poke-a-dots. Arthur eyed her supple, young body hungrily.
Upon seeing the dark look in his eyes, Tonks decided to give her lover a treat. She had to admit, the idea of another romp with Arthur was very pleasing; ocean and sore bits be damned. She squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. Suddenly, her breasts began to swell and grow. The thin straps of her top strained and threatened to snap under the weight of her now massive titties."
"Oh my," gulped Arthur.
"Tell you what; if you can make me cum four times before you do, I'll go down on you on the beach while you drink a mai tai," offered Tonks.
"I'm always up for a challenge." Arthur didn't know what a mai tai was exactly, but he was sure that he'd love it whatever it was if Tonks was giving him head at the time. He didn't know how he ever survived before. Tonks' talented mouth could get a dead man to cum. Arthur wanted to make up for all those years he lived without regular sex romps and Tonks was more than able to help him achieve this goal.
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"It's done," Harry said, holding up the potion he had just brewed. "Now all I have to do is sneak into Dumbledore's office."
"What does the potion do? Will it make him die a slow painful death?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"In a manner, yes," he replied cryptically.
"Oh please, Harry, don't tease." The brunette pouted. "You must tell me what the potion will do to Dumbledore."
Without taking his eyes off the vial to see where the witch stood, Harry's hand shot out and tweaked Hermione's nipple through the small piece of leather that covered it. He continued to pinch and as Hermione moaned in pleasure, he boldly stated; "I'm Harry. I'm your Master. I can tease you as much as I like.
"You stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, walking to the door after giving one final tweak to her sensitive nipple.
The wizard quickly moved through the castle, silent as a ghost. Before approaching the stone gargoyle protecting the Headmaster's office, Harry checked the Marauders' Map to find the password. He stood before the statue and said "Lemon drops."
The gargoyle stepped out of the way and allowed him to pass. After walking up the winding staircase, Harry entered the office.
"Hello everyone," he said to the magical portraits of the former Headmasters and Headmistresses that lined the walls. "It's me, this universe's Harry. I just escaped the evil universe."
Harry spoke with a convincing show of innocence and naiveté, much like how he thought this universe's Harry spoke.
"Welcome back, lad," one Headmaster with round, red cheeks greeted.
"It's good to be back," Harry said, forcing himself to blush in mock embarrassment over the portrait's concern.
"I hope your experience in that evil place hasn't corrupted you," a witch with a wart the size of a chicken's egg on her nose said.
"No, I'm still the virginal, goody-two-shoes you all know and love," he said, his lips curled in a forced goofy smile.
"I for one was growing fond of the evil-Harry," Phineas Nigellus said, looking down his nose at Harry.
Holding up the vial of the recently brewed potion, Harry said; "Anyway, I just spoke with Professor Dumbledore and he asked me to drop this off."
"Carry on, Lad," the red, round face Headmaster said jovially.
Harry walked to Dumbledore's desk and began riffling through the drawers. As he searched, the portraits continued to talk amongst themselves.
"It's good that he's returned."
"Albus was so worried."
"Yes, the old fellow will be so elated over young Harry's return that I'm sure Albus will have another dosage of his special potion."
Harry looked up and asked innocently; "What do you mean by 'special potion'?"
"The one he keeps in the secret compartment at the back of the lower left drawer," Armando Dippet said, tapping his forefinger to the side of his nose knowingly.
"Ah, thank you," the young wizard said, opening the drawer in question. He found the secret compartment and opened it easily, pulling out Dumbledore's virility potion. After pouring three drops of his own mystery potion into Dumbledore's stash, Harry tapped his wand to the bottle, placing a simple but powerful Compulsion Charm on it. He then returned the tainted virility potion, sealed the compartment, and shut the drawer.
"Thanks everyone for your concern," Harry said to the portraits. "I'll be running along now."
With that, Harry walked out of the office with a bounce in his step, much like how he imagined the "good Harry" would walk.
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In Remus' cottage, the wizard was still dictating. His voice was cracked and croaky, but he forged ahead, like a man possessed.
"And Sebastian said; 'When I first laid eyes upon Her Glorious Mound, I climbed and climbed for what seemed like hours. I crossed Her Blue Rivers and rested in Her Soft Warmness. And then I finally reached Her Peak. I wept at Her Nub and She doth nourished me.' Thus be The Word according to Sebastian."
He paused and the page in the book turned. "The Word according to Marcel. 'The Light shone upon me…'"
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"So, brother of mine, are you excited to come back to the place of our childhood?" asked Fred as he and his twin wandered through the garden toward the kitchen door of the Burrow.
"Excited, dear brother? No. Hungry and hoping that mum will whip up some food for us? Yes," retorted George.
"That's right," chuckled Fred. "We can't cook to save our lives."
"That's the sad truth."
The twins walked into the kitchen without bothering to knock. They were prepared to shout; "Hullo, Mother dear, it is us; Frorge and Gred, ready to sample some of your delicious home cooking!" to announce their arrival. However the words froze in their throats.
There, lying on the floor in a tangle heap of limbs and breasts were their mother and Delores Umbridge. The witches had obviously exhausted themselves in some perverse sexual act and were now sleeping in each others' arms (and sagging breasts, which were draped over the other's shoulders). Each witch's face was completely covered with a liquid sheen; a sheen that was echoed on their hands, forearms, and toes as well.
The brothers didn't say a word. They simply walked through the kitchen with a smile etched on their faces and up the stairs to their old room. There, they pulled out the chairs from under the desks and positioned them in the middle of the room. They silently conjured two long, hemp nooses and attached them to the ceiling above the chairs with Sticking Charms. After the twins climbed up and stood on the chairs, they slipped the nooses over their heads and around their necks, still smiling. The brothers shook hands.
"It's been a good life, hasn't it, Gred?"
"It certainly was, Forge."
With that, Fred and George cast a Banishing Hex at the chair under the other. The chairs crashed against the walls and their bodies jerked at the end of the nooses. They happily chose death over having to live with the horrific sight they had just witnessed.
However, just as the blackness of oblivion began to claim them, they heard an ominous and very jarring voice.
"Wha's all the commotion," Millicent asked as she entered the room.
The dying twins began to convulse in additional horror at the sight of the naked ape-like Millicent Bulstrode. The last thing they believed that they'd ever heard scarred them deep into their souls. The jarring voice of Millicent calmly saying, "Oh look, more gingers fer us ta' play with."
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"Please, Harry, tell me what you brewed?" begged Hermione. She had nagged and pled him constantly; all the way out of the castle, through the hidden passageway past the school's Anti-Portkey Wards. And now that they were back in their temporary hideout and surrounded by the rest of his harem, she showed no signs of letting up. "I really must know what you did to him."
"Before I even contemplate whether I should tell you what I did to Dumbledore or not, we have to reward my little arse girl as I promised this morning," Harry said.
Like a bolt of lightning, Luna shot up the stairs. Sounds of her footsteps, thundering around in the master-bedroom echoed through the living room.
"Pardon me, Master, but I have a complaint," Daphne began nervously.
Harry glared at her. He didn't like complaints, especially from his lower harem members. She gulped and bravely forged ahead. "Tracy and I love Pansy's shorn head – it's so soft and smooth that we both rubbed our cunnys on it 'til we came. But now that there's no hair to grab her by, it's rather difficult to dunk her head in the toilet."
"Ah, I hadn't thought of that," he said, softening his gaze – it was a valid complaint after all. He waved his wand at the bald Slytherin. A small, leather handled materialized in the back of the collar wrapped around her neck.
"Thank you Master!" cheered Daphne. She placed a quick peck on Harry's cheek before dashing to Pansy, seizing the handle on her collar. Pansy yelped as Daphne dragged her to the downstairs loo. The bald Slytherin let out a terrified and disgusted scream a moment before her head was dunked in the toilet.
Daphne shouted from the loo; "Oh bother, Tracy. It looks like you forgot to flush after you relieved yourself. It's full of urine and shite… along with Pansy's head of course."
"Damn my forgetful mind," Tracy said with a devilish smile.
Just then, Luna came bolting down the stairs, naked as the day she was born. She had a bright, glowing smile that split her face wide open. She handed Harry the well used tube of "Harry's Bum Mint Foaming Gel!" which she had retrieved from the master bedroom. Once she gave the rectum cleaning potion to the wizard, Luna tackled Hermione Jean to the floor and tore off the brunette's blouse. The moment Hermione Jean's impressive jugs were exposed, Luna's threw her face between her mounds, humming gaily.
After applying the magical cleanser to Luna's "no-no hole" he turned to Hermione and Tracy. Unfastening and dropping his trousers to the floor, he gestured to his hardening manhood and Luna's anus, saying; "Ladies, I need some lube."
Tracy spat great globs of spittle onto the fleshy, purple crown of Harry's love while Hermione spat on Luna's hole before working the saliva into the blonde's cavity with her forefinger. After the witches both spat on their respective targets three more times, Harry was satisfied that he had enough lubrication. Harry slammed into Luna who cried out passionately into Hermione Jean's breasts.
"Oh-ho that tickles!" said Hermione Jean as the vibration from Luna's cry reverberated through her titties. The brunette repeated this phrase each time Luna cried out in ecstasy – which meant Hermione Jean said "Oh-ho that tickles!" fourteen times.
Half an hour later, Harry grunted and removed himself. Fulfilling her part of Luna's reward, Hermione crawled behind the blonde and stuck her long, strong tongue into her gaping, messy hole. Hermione's tongue brought Luna to climax three more times (which, coincidentally, caused Hermione Jean to say "Oh-ho that tickles!" three more times). Hermione continued to "clean" Luna even after the blonde began snoring into Hermione Jean's breast.
Licking the white, sticky residue from the corners of her lips, Hermione stood and brought up her request once again. "Please, Harry, you simply must tell me what you did to Dumbledore."
"All right, but I'll want a prize," Harry said with a smile.
"What kind of prize?" she asked, knowing that it would involve one form of sexual act or another. And whatever the act may be, the brunette was more than willing to perform – any opportunity to sample Harry's manhood was welcome.
"Hmm, what type of prize should I ask for," he said thoughtfully rubbing his chin. Less than a second after entering this deep thought, he clicked his fingers. "I know; I want you and your brain damaged counterpart on your knees before me while I take turns getting deep throats from both of you."
Hermione Jean wriggled out from under Luna, waking the blonde, and rushed over to the wizard. She threw herself to her knees before him and opened her mouth wide, eager for the throat shagging to begin.
Harry leaned toward Hermione's ear and whispered, telling her what the potion would do to the old wizard who had brainwashed and manipulated her. The brunette's eyes grew wide. "Oh my! That's deliciously evil!"
"What can I say; I'm good at what I do," he said with no hint of humility.
"He'll be begging for a merciful death in no time!" she said, lowering herself to her knees next to Hermione Jean.
"No later than tomorrow night," he said, taking hold of his organ.
Tracy knelt down next to the brunettes as Daphne brought the filthy faced Pansy to watch. Even Luna, who was still exhausted from her many orgasms, watched the marvel. The two versions of Ginny did not join the group however. Mousey-Ginny was too shy to even come out of her hiding place behind the chair and Ginny Pig was not permitted to look upon Harry's glory.
The four witches watched as Harry shoved his awesome beef down Hermione's throat, pumped twice, and pulled out. The witch's spit dripped in great globs from his rod as he turned toward Hermione Jean and repeated the action of forcing himself all the way down her throat in one quick push.
Luna, Daphne, Tracy, and Pansy watched fixated as Hermione and her counterpart's throats bulged and contracted around Harry's rod. Spit, drool, and foam dribbled down Hermione and Hermione Jean's chins, coating Harry's manhood, testicles and raining down onto their magnificent breasts. The two witches' eyes, dark with lust and desire, fascinated their fellow harem members.
Each of the witches watching wished they could know what it felt like to have Harry's cock stuffed down their throats just once so they could see what the two brunettes found so appealing. However, they had one thing the versions of Hermione lacked that prevented such an intriguing action – a gag reflex. They knew that the moment the bulbous crown touch the back of their mouths, they would involuntarily pull away or worse; vomit.
Not only was Tracy fascinated by the pleasure the two Hermiones obviously experienced, but the sheer look of rapture on Harry's face piqued the strawberry blonde's attention. She wanted to know what it felt like for him; to have the witches' hot, tight, wet throats contracting and massaging his manhood. Based on his expression and his complete captivation to the act, Tracy speculated that there was probably no better feeling possible for him. His expression of single-minded happiness seemingly eclipsed even the pleasure she herself felt each time Harry used her. Perhaps, she would ask her Master to describe the sensations he felt once he was finished.
However, Tracy was distracted some time later when Harry blasted both versions of Hermione with string after string of hot cum and ordered the Slytherin to clean the two identical witches. As Tracy licked up the warm spunk and bountiful amounts of spittle from the brunettes' faces her curiosity of Harry's pleasure slipped from her mind.
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Early the next morning, Draco found Snape in the kitchen, preparing himself breakfast.
"Professor Snape, sir, I have to ask you a question."
"What is it Draco?" the greasy wizard asked, happy to help his favorite student.
"Sir, I need to know where Potter's muggle relatives live."
"Whatever for?" he said. "Potter ran away from there. And even if he was with the Muggle, the Blood Protections guard him from any harm."
"I know, sir, I was just hoping to see if I could trace his steps," Draco said. "I could pretend to be a friend from school and ask his neighbors if they might have seen or heard where he went."
"You may try, although I doubt you'll discover any useful information," Snape said. "The Dursleys live at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
"Thank you, sir!" Draco scurried back to his bedroom, hoping that this information would please Lady Voldemort. And please her it did, for less than five minutes later, the Dark Lady was on her knees before Draco, pleasuring him with her mouth. Looking down into her red eyes, Draco's heart fluttered. Despite being sixty-two years his senior (although one could not tell by her gorgeous, firm body), Draco believed he was falling in love with the perfect, pure-blood witch.
Lady Voldemort pulled back. Stroking his manhood, she said huskily; "I love young cock. Almost as much as I love cum." She sucked his crown. "Once I kill Potter, I'll return and celebrate by having you cum on me!" The Dark Lady shivered before returning to sucking the teen.
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Dumbledore walked into his office and sat down, ready to read the morning's Prophet. However, he became distracted. He looked at the lower left drawer. A smile crept across his lips. The night of lovemaking Dumbledore had spent with Pomona had eased the grief of Alastor's death only slightly. Perhaps he still needed to spend some time with Pomona to ease his pain even further.
The moment after he drank a dosage, the ancient Headmaster doubled over and cried out in pain. Struggling, Dumbledore lifted the front of his robes and looked in horror at his manhood.
The skin was stretched out and an angry purple due to the excessive amount of blood raging through it. It pulsated and throbbed with tempo with his increasing pulse. Added to the pain of an overly engorged erection, Dumbledore had an agonizing need to ejaculate. His loins felt like they were about to rupture and screamed out for release. Much to his horror and pain, his testicles swelled up right before his eyes.
"What's the matter, Albus?" the portrait of Armando Dippet asked. "Did you have an adverse reaction to the potion? I do hope it had nothing to do with whatever young Harry Potter was doing in your desk drawers."
"Harry Potter was here?" Dumbledore asked as beads of sweat blossomed on his brow and his body trembled in agony.
"Why yes."
"Why didn't you tell me," groaned Dumbledore as the pain in his testicles doubled.
"It didn't seem out of the ordinary," Armando said. "He came in here, said that he had just returned from the evil-universe and, after playing with your potion, left."
Dumbledore eyed the potion bottle in his hand. Staggering out of the office, he mumbled; "I must get to the Laboratory and find out what he poisoned me with."
However, before he could reach the dungeons, his loins demanded attention. The excruciating pressure in his manhood caused the old man to fall to his knees. He had to take care of his need before he could examine the poison.
Standing, Dumbledore stumbled toward the greenhouse. Soon, the luscious body of Pomona would grant the release that he so needed. Unfortunately for the ancient wizard, Harry's poison was far more dubious and wicked than Dumbledore could ever imagine.
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A loud knocking on the front door woke Harry and his witches from their slumber. "Daphne, you're the closest, get the door."
Untangling herself from the myriad of limbs and naked, sticky bodies, Daphne stood and threw on her robes before marching to the door and opened it. Looking into brilliant green, almond shaped eyes framed by round glasses, Daphne asked of the person standing outside the open door; "Who are you supposed to be?"
To Be Continued
Author's Note: be sure to check out Clell65619 and Tubazrcool's responses to my challenge "what happened to good-Harry in the evil-universe?"
"Mirror Crack'd" by Clell65619 www . ficwad . com / story / 109067 (remove the spaces)
"What Ever Happened To…" by Tubazrcool www . fanfiction . net / s / 4807917 / 1 / (remove the spaces)