Triwizard Adventures, a harry potter fanfic

Summary: The Triwizard Tournament taken to ludicrous and perverted extremes. Poor Harry.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter/Everyone

Beta: —

Spoilers: HP

Warnings: Cock Slut Harry Potter, Pedophilia, Non-Consensual Aphrodisiac Administration, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Crack, Sex Addiction, Ownership, Sexual Slavery, Underage Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing

Notes:

1. Title sorta taken from a Skyrim mod, as well as the basic premise. Sorta.

2. Just another crack idea (that I find ridiculous, anyway).

3. There is a tag I have chosen not to include, because it rather gives something away. However, you learn it pretty quickly, so back out then if it's a squick. (Then again, considering the already visible tags, if you wandered in here you should expect something not normal.)

4. Multiple Skyrim mods and one Sims 4 mod were inspiration for various aspects or effects.

5. Bashed out in a couple of hours.

Written: 2022 05 29

Assembled: 2022 05 30 (1.0)

Barty looked around the old manor home with some level of disgust. It was so utterly muggle. But he was not there to critique the décor or architecture, he was there to help his master, who had been so kind as to rescue him from that pustule on wizardry he was so unfortunate as to call a father.

"Report," his master said.

Barty immediately nodded. "I have been able to shadow the boy multiple times this summer thus far. He does not stray far from those disgusting muggles, but certainly far enough for me to get close. I have noticed, Master, something … odd."

Voldemort's brow went up in a silent demand.

"He—he feels a bit like you, Master, and I have no idea why. I kept thinking you were nearby while I was shadowing the boy."

Voldemort looked, dare he think it, rather thoughtful at that pronouncement, and it was some time before he spoke. "I have … a plan."

Barty brightened up.

"You are going to arrange for Potter to be the fourth champion."

"So we can kidnap him and you'll finally get to kill him, Master?" he asked gleefully. He felt like clapping, but that would be too childish, and likely get him crucio'd.

Voldemort scowled. "No, don't be ridiculous! I have a much more cunning plan in mind, and it's going to require you to do a lot of prep work."

"Anything for you, Master," he said firmly.

"Good. Now listen carefully."

Harry waited for the moment the names came out of the cup, mostly because once it was over he could ignore the whole thing. Well, tasks excepted, because he had to wonder if students would be required to watch. It seemed like the kind of thing Dumbledore would do. He could only imagine the Ravenclaw students would be torn between watching history in action or spending time in the library learning new things.

It wasn't as if the headmaster actually gave a fuck about the student body, and he had gone out of his way on occasion to deliberately piss certain houses off. Though not Gryffindor so much, because the man was clearly biased. But in its own way, it was also to their detriment. All he had to do was compare that behavior against how the Dursleys were with Dudley, and it was all very obvious.

He automatically clapped when everyone else did, and paid attention long enough to see Viktor Krum stride over to the anteroom and disappear inside. A glance to the side showed that Ron was hyperventilating. Again.

There was another burst of blue flame and more clapping. Some fellow from Beauxbatons was off to the anteroom. Harry hadn't caught his name, but what did that matter? And then the entirety of the Hufflepuff table exploded in delight as their seeker was chosen as the Hogwarts Champion. Diggory also disappeared.

Hopefully they would be able to exit soon. He was quite looking forward to a year with no excitement and danger. For him, anyway.

Harry blinked when Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "What was that for?" he asked irritably.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called. "Up here, if you please!"

"I don't please," he muttered. "Why is he calling my name?" he asked of Hermione, who was sitting on his other side.

"Your name came out of the goblet," she said quietly.

"What!? No. I didn't enter. I didn't put my name in."

"Go on," she said, giving him a slight push.

"I'm doing this under protest!" he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "I'm too young to die!" He felt like a right fool (not to mention embarrassed) when he accidentally trod on the hem of his robe and stumbled slightly.

The walk up to the front of the hall felt like it took forever, and he kept his eyes on the edge of the head table. He could already feel every single set of eyes staring at him, and it was far worse than the staring from first or second year. He drifted to a stop near the headmaster.

"Well … through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said soberly.

He frowned. "Great, someone's trying to kill me again," he muttered. "What a shock." He trudged off to the anteroom and inside, then slumped against the wall with a scowl.

What followed was ridiculous, but at least Professor Moody agreed with him! Someone was trying to kill him again, damn it. A fourteen year old in a tournament meant for those of seventeen, and known to kill both champions and spectators. Great! Just wonderful!

After they were packed off he trudged up to Gryffindor in a funk. The Fat Lady wasn't alone in her portrait; there was a wizened-looking witch there, one who had been spying on the anteroom meeting. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with keen interest.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady. "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as a school champion, then?"

"Balderdash!" he said rudely.

"It most certainly isn't!" Violet protested.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," the Fat Lady said soothingly as she swung forward on her hinges to allow Harry access to the common room.

He was nearly knocked off his feet at the blast of noise coming from within, and knew he'd best make a run for it to his dorm, so he could hide. Unfortunately, his house mates wouldn't let him, and kept plying him with admiration, food, and drinks, and kept cutting off his escape route every time he tried to slip away. Some idiot had even procured a Gryffindor banner and swirled it around him like a cloak.

Eventually his headache got too bad (caused by them) and he bellowed, "Enough! My head hurts and I need some sleep!" He pushed his way through the crowd and finally escaped up the boys' staircase, and gratefully flopped onto his bed once he got inside the 4th Year dorm.

A look to the side showed that Ron had a rather odd, strained grin on his face, which boded badly. But, well, Ron always did have a problem with jealousy, and was deaf to things he didn't want to hear. (Rather like Mrs Weasley, actually.)

He sat up so he could work at the knot tying the banner around him.

"So," Ron said. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, 'congratulations'!? I'm going to die in this stupid tournament! Are you telling me that's what you're hoping for!?"

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, right. You just want another heaping of fame, like always." He wrenched his bed hangings shut.

'So, that friendship is in the toilet, not that it was ever much of one,' he thought as he finally got that stupid knot undone and dropped the banner. He grabbed his bed clothes, ducked into the bathroom briefly, then went to bed, pulling his own hangings shut.

Hermione was waiting with a stack of toast when he exited the common room the next morning, so they went off for a walk. It was just too bad she couldn't be bothered to slap a fried egg in between slices, because toast by itself (buttered or not) did not a filling breakfast make.

Their conversation consisted of her making excuses for Ron, and insisting that his justified response was something he had to talk to Ron about, that he was the one who had to make things right, even though he wasn't the one in the wrong.

'Seriously, I know I've always been pretty clutchy with friends, mostly because Dudders always drove people away, but this is just ridiculous. This is victim blaming!'

She also insisted he write to Sirius, because the Daily Prophet was going to report his inclusion, and it was better coming from him. She practically manhandled him up to the owlery and shoved parchment, quill, and ink at him. He wrote out a short note, then tossed it at her and left.

He ignored her yelling for him to come back. He wasn't stupid enough to send something via a school owl, because Hedwig would get angry with him. Let Hermione deal with it.

The days following were awful. The other three houses were cold to Gryffindor, and especially cold to Harry. They all seemed to believe that he had someone managed to get his name into the goblet, on purpose, for a fame and cash grab, which was ludicrous.

At dinner on Friday there was an announcement from Dumbledore. All champions were to head directly to the infirmary at the conclusion of the meal, and they would be there through the weekend.

'At least that means I'll not have to deal with this shit for a few days, not that that's saying much,' he thought.

Ron had been studiously shunning him, which was a bit of all right in his book. That particular friendship had always come with far too many conditions. Hermione, of course, kept urging him to make things up with Ron, again acting like he was the one in the wrong. He was starting to have fond thoughts of that time Hermione had punched Malfoy in the face, except he was seeing Ron and Hermione being the ones clocked.

He headed off with the other three, sticking to the back (even though it meant people could take potshots at him should they choose), and unhappily trudged into the infirmary. Why they would need to be there for the weekend he had no clue. A full check-up or something?

He woke up in confusion. He was naked, in a bed, and Pomfrey was checking between his widely spread legs for some reason. He flushed hotly in embarrassment and dismay. "Er…?"

"Just checking to see if the ritual took, Mr Potter," she replied, then dropped the sheet.

"Ritual?" He cleared his throat, because his voice had been uncomfortably high that time.

"An explanation in due time," she said, then sailed off.

He brought his legs back together and clutched the sheet. 'What the hell did they do to me?'

A short time later—after he had worked himself up into a right proper frenzy of worry—Pomfrey was back with a sleeping gown. Not even pyjamas. They were not in Victorian times, thanks!

"Put that on, then come to the outer room for a briefing," she said, then sailed off again.

He stared fretfully at the door, only just then realizing he was in a private room, and slid out from under the sheet, tossed the gown on over his head, and padded out. The others were there, looking just as confused as he was.

"Right," she said briskly. "Now for the explanation. According to the tasks set for this tournament, you have all been subjected to a ritual which will make you capable of being impregnated and carrying children to term."

Harry thumped to the floor in shock when his legs gave out.

"Do buck up, Mr Potter," she said impatiently. "Normally the ritual used is illegal, as are most rituals. Because they're dark, in case you've not been paying attention. However, due to the tournament, it was allowed. I'm sure there were many bribes involved.

"Now do not think that you will menstruate as a girl would, no. This is more akin to certain animals, wherein copulation signals to the female to be receptive and ready, after which further copulation can result in pregnancy. Examples of that are rabbits, cats, camels, koalas, llamas, and alpacas."

'Well, that was fucking informative and very unnecessary,' he thought.

"The reason for the use of the ritual will be explained later, on the eve of the first task," she continued. "You will all remain here until Monday morning, under observation. That is all."

Harry scrambled to his feet and ducked back into the door he came out of, closed the door, and jumped into bed. He had girl parts now, great. The very fact that things would be explained on the eve of the first task meant it was likely it'd happen in front of the entire student body, which meant he would find out if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

A look out the window made him realize it was morning, and he was hungry, despite his stomach roiling with anxiety. Pomfrey sailed in a moment later, carrying several potions, as well as breakfast.

"Calming potion," she said, wiggling a phial before she set it on the side table. "This one is for nausea," she said for the next before placing it down. A wave of her wand (which made him realize he had no idea where his was) saw a tray fly into place over his lap, on which she set his meal. "If you need anything, just give the bell pull a tug." And then she sailed out again.

Was it too late to re-learn how to cry?

Life was just awful leading up to the first task. It was like what he imagined living in Antarctica would be, except without penguins. Diggory was given to flipping between concerned looks his way and scorn, but Harry ignored him just like he ignored everyone else as much as possible.

He and the other three were called up to the front of the Great Hall, after dinner, and made to stand facing the length of the room.

Dumbledore stood up from his throne-like chair—

Harry wondered how much in the way of school funding had gone to pay for the monstrosity.

—and quite clinically explained what had been done to the champions—

Harry didn't think he could get any more red, and his face felt like it was going to melt off from the sheer heat. Subtle looks to the sides showed that he was not alone in his reaction.

—and what the tasks would consist of. "Specifically," Dumbledore said, sounding just a bit airy, "there will be six periods of activity for each task, three on Saturday and three on Sunday. At the conclusion of each meal, each champion will be placed randomly somewhere inside the school, and they must remain in areas where anyone can get to. That being so, the staff room, common rooms, dormitories, offices, and the like are off limits.

"The goal for each champion is to not get caught, for anyone who does catch one can have sex with them. And yes, that does mean you could potentially get one of them with child. As for the scoring system it is quite simple. But first, allow me to point out that each champion will have a house-elf nearby to ensure they come to no harm, and to keep track of the points.

"Each instance of fellatio will garner half a point, anal sex one point, and vaginal will be worth two points. The goal of not getting caught is due to both the possibility of becoming pregnant, as well as knowing that the more points a champion gets, the worse they are doing. Whoever has the fewest points at the conclusion of the tournament will be the winner.

"As for the structure of the tasks, there will be six periods, as I mentioned earlier. At the conclusion of breakfast on Saturday, there will be a fifteen minute period where the champions will be placed and have time to hide themselves, after which all male students fourth year and above may hunt for them.

"At 11.45 all activities will cease. The assigned house-elf will ensure it. At that point, each champion will be escorted back to the infirmary to clean up and eat. This will repeat for both lunch and dinner, the day's task not to go past midnight. Champions will return to the infirmary to rest. The same schedule will take place on Sunday, with the champions returning to normal school after breakfast on Monday.

"Third year students and below, as well as all female students, will be escorted to their house common rooms at the conclusion of each meal. I suggest if you need any books from the library, you get them prior to curfew tonight. Hopefully all the boys will have a lovely time during the tournament. Now…"

He almost gawked. It was like Dumbledore was happy that the four of them were going to be raped. Repeatedly.

The four of them were escorted off to the infirmary and Harry ducked into the room with his name on it, and dove under the covers, not that it did him any good.

Barty waltzed (figuratively speaking) into Potter's infirmary room and said, "Right, Potter. I'll be the one handling your placement. Let me just check to make sure everything is all right healthwise with you." He whipped back the covers and grabbed the boy's arm so he could haul him off the bed. "Strip down, Potter. I need to run this scan, and you then need to put on your nightwear. Put everything in the side table. It'll be locked so that no one can steal anything of yours."

A look of blind panic flashed over the boy's face, then his expression settled into mulishness. Potter stripped down very reluctantly, revealing all that lovely flesh, and carefully tucked everything into the side table's drawer.

After making sure the boy's wand was in there, a quick wave of his wand secured it with a high-level locking spell. He then waved his wand at the boy, to place the spell his master had demanded for this boy in particular, one that would prevent the boy from getting knocked up by anyone during the tournament. That privilege was reserved for his master, should he choose it.

A second wave added the spell required to be placed on the champions, the one they would only learn about the first time they were caught. It had been decided on (he knew because he was the one to liberally use the Imperius Curse to ensure it) to give the champions motivation (beyond getting pregnant) to avoid being caught. But in the boy's case, it was for a different reason entirely.

"Right, we're done. Get your gown on, then."

"Is there anything I can read?" the boy asked unhappily as he did. "I'm not sure I can sleep, and not so early."

He grumbled under his breath to keep up appearances, then said, "I'll see what I can do. I'll be back." He stumped off, closing and locking the door behind him (no sense letting the kid escape his fate), and bothered Pomfrey.

She handed over a book on apprentice-level healing, so he delivered that, exited again (closing and locking the door), and stumped off to his quarters. The paper next morning was sure to be a doozy. He had every expectation that Skeeter had someone figured out a way to be present.

Also, he had an anonymous note to send to the upper year Slytherin students.

"Healing spells?" he muttered. "At least it's something." He opened the book and began to read, never quite noticing when he nodded off.

When he did wake it was to Moody delivering breakfast, which he choked down after taking an anti-nausea potion; the second he was awake and aware the anxiety and nausea came back.

"You want a calming potion?" Moody asked, looking rudely indifferent.

He shook his head. "If I'm too calm, my reflexes won't be so good."

Moody looked amused by that, which he also thought was rude.

He finished up the last of the food and slipped out of bed so he could use the en suite, then returned to see Moody holding out a robe.

"Just this?" he asked.

Moody shook it. "Yes, just this. Put it on. No need to be shy. After all, if you get caught, there's lots of boys going to see you naked."

He flushed hotly and pulled the gown over his head, then grabbed the robe so he could put it on.

Moody checked the time, then nodded. "Right. Off we go, then." The man grabbed his arm, disillusioned the both of them, and hauled him away, down to the dungeons horrifyingly enough. He was led into the Potions classroom, which was even worse. "Yeah, this'll do to start."

The disillusionment spell was stripped away from Harry.

"Soon as you hear the warning tone, you'll know the boys have been released to hunt you down, so as soon as I leave, figure out somewhere to hide down here in the dungeons. Also, a note, Potter. The doors to the Great Hall are open, as you no doubt noticed as we passed them, so I don't expect you can sneak by."

He had noticed, worryingly.

"And all doors to outside the castle have been sealed for the duration."

Moody turned away and stumped toward the door, so Harry started looking around the classroom to see if he could even manage to hide there, or if he'd have to brave the depths of the dungeons.

He consequently missed Moody's wand aimed at him again briefly. Twice. That Moody was still disillusioned might have had something to do with it, too.

Harry was just about to consider leaving the classroom when he heard the warning tone and panicked. With no better ideas he dove under Snape's desk and huddled there, praying he would not be found.

Not even five minutes later three boys skidded into the room and closed the door.

"There he is!" came a very familiar voice.

Harry was dragged out from under the desk and pushed over it, and the next thing he knew he was chained in place.

"Hello, pet," one of the twins said. George, if he wasn't mistaken. "Looks like we get you first, lovely."

He was feeling really warm for some reason, and his limbs felt far too relaxed for it to make sense.

"Look, guys, he's already dripping wet. He wants this bad," Lee said.

"You won the coin toss," Fred said.

Harry inhaled sharply when something pressed against his new opening, then thrust inward. He squealed in pain at the invasion and tears came to his eyes.

"Oh, man, he's so tight!" Lee said. "This is fantastic!"

The next few minutes were a kind of agony for Harry, but at the same time he was really feeling into it, like he had to have it. Tears were streaming down his face even as his cock stiffened up.

One of the twins reached down under to start stroking him, which made him moan in pleasure. The dichotomy was really messing with his head. Lee groaned and slammed into him, then pulled back and moved away.

"My turn!" George said, then thrust into Harry.

That hurt just as much, but he was so aroused, and Fred was still stroking his cock, making him moan in pleasure.

"Look at those gorgeous tears," Lee said, coming around to run a hand down the side of his face.

"I can't wait to fuck him, too," Fred said. "Think I should make sure he comes?"

George grunted, which apparently meant yes, because the next thing Harry knew he was driven right to the edge and over it, splattering come all over the floor under Snape's desk. It felt incredible, despite the pain he was in.

Fred went next, and it was just as painful, and George came around to the front so he could kiss Harry and swallow all those sounds he kept making.

The door opened and a whole crowd of boys came in, which made Harry's heart sink even as a part of him demanded more. Why!?

"We're almost done our first round," Lee said. "He's loving this shit, too. He was dripping when we found him, and he's super tight. You'll love how tight he is."

He could just barely see in his peripheral vision that all those new boys were Slytherins.

"And of course we chained him down, so it's not like he can say no or get away," Lee added.

Murmuring from the Slytherins started low and got louder, then a low-voiced discussion broke out as to who would get to go first.

Harry spent the next several hours being fucked by boy after boy after boy, all in his pussy, and each and every time hurt like mad. Every so often one of them would jack him off and make him come, which just added to the pool under the desk.

He noticed at one point that Malfoy was one of the boys who had fucked him, and he looked exceptionally smug about it when he said, "You're an excellent fuck, Potter. Or should I say, excellent slut?"

Many of the boys hummed and nodded in approval.

He didn't even recognize most of the Slytherins, but one of them he swore moved just the way Snape did, and that was too horrifying to contemplate, the idea that his Potions professor was fucking him on the man's very desk. And him being completely into it, to boot.

A warning tone sounded, not quite like the original one, and a house-elf faded into view. "That's five minute warning," it squeaked. "You there, you must finish up!"

A chorus of, "Awwwww," went around the room.

"Boys will have another chance after lunch," the house-elf said, shaking its little clipboard.

A round of happy sighs went round and one said, "Potter is an amazing fuck. I can't wait to have another go. I think I'll try his arse next."

Many agreeable hums were heard.

The boy currently fucking him finished up, just in time for Harry to come yet again due to some other boy stroking him, and pulled out with a sigh.

"Maybe we should have used a tracking charm on him?"

"That would make it simpler to find him each time," another said.

"I should think they'd be checking for that sort of thing."

"Can't hurt to try."

Many of them hummed in agreement.

"Wouldn't it be neat if he swelled up like he was pregnant already, just because he's got so much seed in him?"

Another agreeable hum went around.

Barty thought it was a lovely idea himself, but it was far too late to get that into the tournament.

"Well, time for quick shower, then lunch."

Harry was exhausted. The house-elf had popped him up to his room in the infirmary and pointed him at the en suite, so he headed in to take a shower. He was not at all keen on the amount of pain he was having to suffer, but the pleasure he was getting was equal or better, so he could endure it. And at that, the pain was nothing on what Vernon or Dudley had made him suffer through beatings.

It was certainly an … interesting … set of tasks. He didn't seem to be in any danger of dying, either, so there was that. Getting pregnant, however… The very idea made him want to panic again. When he wandered out there was a fresh robe for him to wear, so he put it on, then sat down so he could eat.

He was ashamed to realize he was looking forward to the rest of the weekend, and there was a perverse thrill thrumming through his body over being fucked repeatedly on Snape's desk. How the twins had found him so quickly…? Had they "borrowed" the map from his trunk? If they had he could expect them every single time. And aside from chaining him down so he couldn't escape, they were kind enough to him. It wasn't their fault being fucked was painful for him.

Moody came back when it was time for him to be placed and grabbed his arm, then disillusioned them both, then hauled him off to … the dungeons. Again. Huh. The spell was removed from him, he again failed to notice that Moody used his wand again, and when the warning tone sounded he gave a start.

He had been so caught up in thinking about what was to come he had forgotten to even look around the room he was in. He dove for a cabinet and tucked himself inside, and waited.

Sure enough, the twins and Lee showed up within five minutes and popped open the cabinet door.

"Oh no," he deadpanned, "I've been found. I must try to escape."

They laughed and chained him down over a transfigured desk. "There we go," said Fred. "Now you can't escape, pet. And besides, we wouldn't want anyone to accuse you of being a cock slut, would we?"

He didn't care. He was warm all over again, his muscles were nicely relaxed, and he was looking forward to a cock inside him.

"Huh, I guess that house-elf was paying attention," Lee said. "His arse is all lubed up."

"Then let's break it in!" George said merrily.

He felt the head of George's cock press against him and push. He squealed again in pain, not that he particularly understood why anyone would want to fuck someone in the arse. But it also felt good? Something was clearly wrong with him, and he was starting to think the Dursleys' accusations of him being a freak wasn't far off course.

"This is just as tight as his pussy, boys," George said as he pulled back. "You're gonna love it," he said, then thrust forward.

Harry groaned, and then moaned when Lee started working his cock.

"You like that, pet?" Lee asked.

"Yes," he choked out.

"And you like all these nice, hard cocks fucking you?"

"Yes," he repeated.

"What a good slut. If we'd known how much you like cock we would have played with you last year, pet."

His head swam at the idea.

By the time Lee was fucking him the Slytherins had found them, and shuffled into whatever order they chose when it was their turns. He was starting to get used to the pain. It was a … piquant … addition to the pleasure and the feeling of being filled.

Malfoy was there again, and the boy he didn't recognize but who moved like Snape, and he just didn't care when it was their turn to fuck him. He wanted them all. He was more than a little surprised when one of them got impatient and shoved his cock into Harry's mouth. He gagged and drooled, but figured out very quickly how to handle its length without choking or suffocating.

"Maybe we should figure out how to suspend him so we can go at all three holes at once?" someone suggested.

"Then we might be able to get in more than one round per session."

Sounds of approval went round as the students nodded.

"We should also be making sure that every time he gets hard that he comes," another said. "He's an excellent, needy slut, but he should get to come, too, as a reward."

More approving noises went around, and a hand landed on his cock to start jacking him off.

When the five minute warning tone went he was just as disappointed as the students who were there to use him.

He was whisked away a few minutes later by the house-elf.

"Wait a minute. How do you three keep finding him so quickly?" Vaisey asked the Gryffindors suspiciously.

"Fuck, I forgot to try a tracking charm," another said.

"Oh, right. Damn it."

"Let's clean up and get to dinner."

Barty waited until they all left, then used his wand to clean himself up, fixed his appearance, and headed off to get in dinner before he had to head to the infirmary.

He was exhausted again as he stumbled into the en suite to get a shower. That idea they came up with sounded really interesting. What would it be like to have all three holes filled at once? The pain was barely a thing at that point, more of a background hum, like adding a little salt to a meal to bring out the flavors.

He did feel quite tender, though, and his jaw felt stretched. Even with the shower he could feel fluids slithering out of him as he put on a fresh robe. He barely noticed what dinner was as he ate it, too caught up in what had happened and what would.

If nothing else, he wouldn't have any trouble sleeping that night.

Moody wandered in to do the usual escort, and brought him to … the dungeons.

"Er, Professor Moody? What happens if I do get pregnant? I mean, couldn't all this be dangerous for a baby?"

Moody chuckled. "Nah, boy. I've made sure you can't get knocked up. Albus wouldn't hear of it! So don't you worry about that."

"Oh," he said wonderingly, and once again lost track of the time. The warning tone startled him to full awareness (as much as he could be feeling so warm and relaxed), so he looked around. After a shrug he just bent himself over the desk in the room and waited.

The twins and Lee showed up and chuckled on seeing him. "Still gotta chain you down, pet. Can't have you suddenly deciding you want to play coy."

The Slytherins showed to the usual scene and one of them snapped off a spell at Harry, which prompted all of them to do the same.

He made an inquiring noise (because a cock was stuffed in his mouth), and heard, "Tracking spells, so we can find you quicker and give you what you so clearly crave."

'Oh, good,' he thought. 'I wonder if I'm getting any nutrition from all this come shot down my throat?'

When the usual trio finished up, the Slytherins started in. Apparently they had not worked out the logistics of three on one yet, which was disappointing indeed.

By the time he was popped to the infirmary by the house-elf he was dead on his feet. He hit the en suite, fell into bed naked, and ate the provided snack, then dropped into sleep almost immediately.

The next morning was breakfast, bathroom, and then an escort to … the dungeons. The second Moody removed the disillusionment spell, he positioned himself over the available desk and waited.

This time the Slytherins got there first, and they chuckled, too, on seeing him. They also chained him down, but he got the feeling it was only for the sake of appearances.

As he was about to be hauled off to the infirmary to sleep that night he heard, "I'm starting to wonder who handles Potter's placement, and if they're a Slytherin alumnus."

Sadly, when he awoke it meant it was time to go back to classes and homework, which was horribly boring. Moody wandered by to unlock the drawer so he could retrieve his wand. A house-elf delivered new clothing and what he would need for the day in his bag, so he hit the en suite, got dressed, and exited the room.

Diggory, Krum, and that Beauxbatons fellow all looked hunted, so he quickly adopted a similar expression. Either they were faking it, or they really weren't having as much fun as he was with the tasks.

They all trooped down to breakfast, and Harry quailed at the idea of having to sit with his housemates. Thankfully, the twins and Lee swept by and brought him along to sit with them, which made him feel a little better.

What didn't was Ron.

Dumbledore announced the scores before the food appeared, looking really rather loopy, and Harry had a shockingly high total in comparison to anyone else. Strangely, the Beauxbatons boy was at zero, so he must be very good at eluding the hunt.

Ron started vacillating between derogatory remarks about Harry ("He's obviously a complete slut and probably enjoys all these random men fucking him. Always has to find a way to be special, doesn't he. No, he's a whore, because he's doing it for money. It's a disgrace.") and bragging that he had managed to fuck Krum more than once over the weekend.

The paper the next morning proved that Skeeter had somehow gotten the scoop, because Ron's remarks were attributed to "a Gryffindor boy", and there was a comment from the Slytherins that they were all in agreement that Potter was an excellent fuck and how he really seemed to love it when they plugged his holes.

The twins' expressions went a bit hard, but Harry couldn't tell if it was because of Ron or what, since they seemed to get along just fine with the Slytherin boys during the task.

The report had a few comments about Diggory and Krum, plus a mention of the Beauxbatons boy and how exceptional he must be at evasion. A glance at the French champion showed the boy had a very weird expression on his face.

That evening things got heated in the dorm. Ron was still going on about what a disgrace Harry was and shooting him venomous looks, and Seamus had started agreeing with him, which was frightening.

Harry slipped out and headed to the 6th Year boys' dorm. He was feeling quite nervous at that point, and exhaled in relief when they let him in.

"What's up, Harry?" Fred asked.

"Er… I s-seem to have a slight problem," he admitted.

"Take a seat," Lee invited, patting a bed.

"Oh, thanks," he said, and sat down. "Uh…"

George tilted his head curiously. "You know you can talk to us."

"Right." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The dorm situation is getting really bad. Ron and Seamus are giving me death glares and saying just awful things, and I'm starting to worry something bad will happen, like my stuff being destroyed or me getting raped in my bed."

The three older boys exchanged looks.

"So, er, I was wondering…? Would you guys object if, um…"

"You moved in here?"

He nodded.

"Sure, Harry!" Fred said. "It's fine. You'd have to bunk in with one of us each night, though."

"Oh, that's fine."

"Then let's go get your things."

Shortly thereafter his belongings (and himself) were safely in the new dorm and they had settled in for a game of Exploding Snap until bed time. George won, so Harry would be sleeping with him that night.

He was feeling antsy, though, and they noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Er…" He could feel his face flush hot again.

"We'd be happy to fuck you if that's what you're trying to say."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes, please."

"Consider it rent!"

It wasn't nearly as many as he would like to have, but it was nice, and he feel asleep naked with George at his back.

Things were a little better the next day, but not good. Hermione wasn't talking to him, classes were boring as all hell and not of interest at all, and there were murmurs going around to the tune of "let's kick the cock slut out of our house".

What he overheard that evening made him frown. "What the hell!? I'm smaller than the other boys! My legs are shorter and even though I can run fast, I still can't outrun bigger boys, nor so many of them. They have wands, too!"

Those listening sneered and jeered and called him a cock slut to his face.

He huffed off to his new dorm, where the trio obligingly fucked him silly.

By the time the Yule Ball was announced Harry was in a panic again. McGonagall had told him he was required to attend, with a date, and able to dance. The scowl on her face was only leavened by the faint worry he could see, so he knew he could not get out of it. He headed back to his dorm and flopped onto a bed.

"What's wrong, pet?" Lee asked.

"Yule Ball, must attend, must dance, must have a date."

"Oh, is that all? We can teach you, and one of us can be your date."

He heaved a sigh of relief.

"In return," Fred said, which made him tense slightly, "you have to agree to remain in this dorm at all times except for classes and meals. You'd be safer that way."

Safer, right. "One of you?"

"Sure, and I have an idea," George said. "We suspend Harry from the ceiling, face down. We set him to rocking gently, and whoever he orgasms on is his date."

"Excellent idea!" the other two agreed.

In a flash he was naked and suspended, having just enough leeway to jack himself off. The gentle sway was nice, and the blindfold kept him from getting distracted. He knew the three were lying on the floor under him, all naked.

"C'mon, pet, let's see you pleasure yourself," Fred said.

They kept teasing him as he stroked himself, talking about how they'd fuck him, and when he did come, it was on Fred, which settled it. Fred would be his date. And once they let him down, they all took turns fucking him, which was brilliant.

The ball itself went well enough, if he discounted seeing Ron and other Gryffindors scowling constantly and muttering things to anyone who would listen about what a cock slut whore he was.

He forgot about that quickly enough once they could finally leave, because the trio figured out how to fill all three of his holes at once, which was awesome, and he wanted it to happen again as often as possible, no matter how much it made him cry.

On the twenty-seventh of January he was hustled off to the infirmary again, and he was beside himself with excitement. The second task would start in the morning and he couldn't wait. Moody stopped by to see if he was doing all right, chuckled at his mood, then wandered back out.

Come morning, after the usual, he was escorted off to … the dungeons, which made him smile slightly. This round, however, had an addition. A jeweled collar was placed around his throat and locked with a spell. It had a bell danging from it.

"It'll make it more difficult for you to evade them," Moody said.

Harry nearly scoffed. Like he would try to get away. It was cute, but useless. When Moody left he bent over the desk and waited, once again feeling warm and relaxed and needy.

"You know, I wish we had Potter in our house," a Slytherin said at one point. "Then we'd have access to him all the time, not just during the tasks."

In between one cock in his mouth and the next he said, "That'd be brilliant, really. So many cocks."

The Slytherin boys all looked pleased at that and started plotting.

They were taking him three at time, the twins and Lee having demonstrated, so Harry was constantly full and dripping. The sound it made, a cock sliding through so much collected come, was turning him on something fierce. The tinkling of the bell on the collar also added something. It was a sweet sound that he rather liked. He didn't think he could get away with wearing it constantly though, which was a shame.

When the scores were announced his were again astronomical, proving that he was just awful at evading the hunt. The result of that was being kicked out of Gryffindor. Apparently they had ganged up on McGonagall and forced her hand. Somehow.

Harry didn't care, because Slytherin hauled him off to their common room.

Snape was there to announce, "Potter shall have a room to himself."

"Thank you?" he said. It was brilliant, but it sounded not at all normal.

"Does this mean you'll be willing to let us fuck you whenever?"

"Sure!" he said happily. "Er, wait, is that against the tournament rules?" Because if it was, he'd been a very bad boy.

Snape shook his head. "No, it is not. And in point of fact, I shall be the first to fuck Slytherin's slut."

"Of course, sir," he said with a nod. "Also, by the way? If I'm exempt from the end of year exams, does that mean I can just skip classes and stay here?"

Snape frowned contemplatively, then shook his head again. "As lovely as that would be, no. You must attend classes and turn in all assigned work. Failure to do so will result in punishment."

He sighed. "Damn it. Punishment? So, detentions."

"No," Snape said. "It means I will paddle your arse raw for every infraction—barring an excellent reason." Then he banished the clothes off Harry and bent him over the sofa so he could thrust his cock into Harry's pussy.

He squealed in delight, loving the burn because of how tight it all was, and damn near came without being touched. After Snape came he was hauled off to his new room, and the Slytherin boys crowded in.

He was in heaven, he surely was. How he was supposed to pay attention in classes and do homework when this was waiting he had no idea. He could hear Snape saying something to everyone but the three currently fucking him, but he couldn't be arsed to pay attention.

He was tucked into his new bed and left to sleep it off.

The next morning he was fucked in the shower, then hauled off to breakfast. For some reason the 4th Year Slytherin boys were dogging his steps. Malfoy was kind enough to tell him, "Because people might get upset at the change in House. Professor Snape told us to keep guard on you."

"Oh. That's really kind of him," he said as he filled his plate.

Malfoy and a few others twitched.

"Do you think there's any chance at all that the twins and Lee can visit?" he asked. "They've been exceptionally kind to me."

"And fucking you every night?" Zabini muttered.

He nodded.

"Maybe," Nott said. "We'll have to ask Professor Snape."

The answer to that turned out to be a trade. If he wanted the three Gryffindors to be able to visit, he had to let Snape paddle him raw each time. He happily agreed, because a little pain was nothing, and it did add a certain spice to everything. In point of fact, he wasn't sure how things would change if he wasn't feeling pain during sex. He still cried when they fucked his arse and pussy, he still drooled when a cock was in his mouth, but it was bearable and the pleasure generally overshadowed it.

Life went on rather pleasantly. Anytime he was inside Slytherin he was either being walked through an assignment, the casting of whatever spells they were supposed to be learning, or being fucked. The Gryffindors visited at least thrice a week, and on both weekend days, so he was paddled more days than not.

Snape decided that since they were giving him so much help that he might as well paddle him every day, and Harry just nodded in agreement. He got used to his arse being very tender and it hurting that much more during sex, but he was getting what he craved, so it was all good.

Barty hummed as he stumped his way to where Snape was in Hogsmeade. He was on a mission for his master, and he would not fail. When he got close enough he banished a portkey at the man, then disapparated to his master's throne room.

Snape was there, looking discombobulated. Barty couldn't tell if it was because the man was shocked that their master was alive and well (and shockingly handsome), or because he was still in disguise.

"Severus," their master said sibilantly.

Snape immediately went down on one knee and bowed his head. "Master."

"Barty, disguise off."

"Yes, Master," he said, then fixed his appearance.

"As you can see, Severus, Barty is yet my loyal servant, and is working for me at the school. As you can no doubt guess, he is the one responsible for Potter being a champion. He is also responsible for what the tasks are."

Snape kept his head down.

"You are going to assist him from hereon in, now that Potter has been moved to Slytherin."

"May I know exactly what is being done, Master?"

"I'm glad you asked. Barty here is responsible for ensuring the boy does not get pregnant, for one. He is also spelling an aphrodisiac into the boy's stomach prior to each task, to ensure he is willing. Now that Potter is in Slytherin he can visit directly, though in disguise, and both maintain the spell, and keep giving the boy aphrodisiacs. In small quantities so as not to do him harm, but to ensure he continues to remain ever willing to be filled, but not so much that he isn't being trained to want it anyway, to need it without that aid."

"You want him prepared for when he's yours, Master," Snape said.

"Yes. Barty has also placed a spell on the boy to make it painful for him to have sex. Granted, all the champions have that spell placed, but in Potter's case is it to train him to require pain in order to achieve orgasm."

"Then it's probably not a bad thing that I've been paddling him raw every night."

"Oh? Why is this?"

"He asked if his three Gryffindors could visit him in Slytherin. Apparently he had to move to their dorm for his safety as things heated up in that House. They were his only allies there, and they took care of his needs every night. I told him I would only allow it if he would submit to the paddling before each visit. And as it worked out, there were only two days each week they did not, so I saw no reason not to just paddle him every day."

Voldemort nodded. "Well done. Now, how is the boy faring?"

"I think about ninety percent of his brain is fixated on sex, Master. He's barely paying attention to his classes, and my Slytherins are walking him through his required work. He gets that out of the way as soon as possible, because it gives him more time to be fucked. All the boys fourth year and up are keeping his holes well filled when they are not occupied with their own work."

"And you?"

"Yes, Master. I saw no reason to deny myself."

"Barty, when you are doing your checks and giving him the potions, you can fuck him yourself as often as you can manage."

"Oh, thank you, Master." That was fantastic. He had managed to slip in every time for the gang bangs, but now he was given actual permission.

"My plan is going well."

"My Slytherins will be sorry to see the boy go," Snape said. "He is … quite popular."

"All the more reason for them to enter my service, Severus. Once I have the boy here, well, obviously there will need to be a steady stream of men to appease his urges. I fully expect him to be addicted to sex by the time I have him, if he isn't already. With any luck, we can get those three Gryffindors to join us, too. After the fourth task finishes, start paddling him twice a day."

"Yes, Master, as you command."

His master was a complete pervert, but who was Barty to complain?

The third task saw the addition of handcuffs to the jeweled collar, which was just as silly, and just as useless. There was no way he would try to escape the hunt, not when there were so many lovely boys willing to fuck him. Sadly, he did not get paddled prior to or during the tasks, so that took a bit of the shine off things.

"Why aren't you pregnant yet, slut?" Draco asked as he shoved his cock in Harry's pussy.

The boy fucking his mouth pulled out so he could answer.

"Thank you. Professor Moody said the headmaster wouldn't allow it, so there's some spell or something on me to prevent it."

"Oh," Draco said as the other boy resumed fucking Harry's mouth. "All right, then." When Draco finished he called him a "good slut" and smacked him on the arse (it felt good) before he moved aside for the next boy.

They all started calling him a "good slut", actually.

The fourth task added ankle chains to the ensemble. They jingled because of the bells attached to them, rather like the bell on his collar. It didn't matter, because the boys immediately broke the chain between them so his legs could be spread apart, and they took off the handcuffs.

He was somewhat shamefully thrilled when Snape informed him that he was upping the trade cost to a twice daily paddling. He just bowed his head in acceptance, but doubted that anyone missed the blush that heated his face.

That, of course, meant that he was paddled raw each morning before breakfast, as a "reminder to be careful while outside the House", and then again each evening before the usual fun started.

Time just kept slipping by in a blur until the fifth task was upon them, with that Beauxbatons boy still at zero. That time he had the collar, the handcuffs, and straps that prevented him from doing anything more than bunny hopping. That time he just stood there and waited. The boys soon arrived and stripped off the cuffs and straps, then chained him so he couldn't escape and set to fucking him.

He rather missed the sensation of a raw arse during all of it, but they were very good to him, making sure he was always filled, and that he got to come every time his cock got hard again. Sometimes the boys licked the tears off his face before they shoved a cock into his mouth. Sometimes they would feed him a treat of chocolate, and every so often one of them would slap his arse.

He rather liked it outside of task times when Snape fucked him, because he was a bit rough and liked to slap his arse as he pumped in and out of him. At least even after the tournament ended he would be well cared for, right?

The morning of the sixth task dawned and Harry used the bathroom, ate his breakfast, and let himself be hauled off by Moody. Oddly, the only thing on him was the robe and jeweled, belled collar. He was a little sad because it was the last task of the tournament. Moody waved his wand around a few times once they were in the dungeons, but then things changed.

The man's wand flashed and the house-elf (he had almost forgotten about the little beast) fell out of hiding, dead. Moody then waved his wand at the collar Harry was wearing, then pulled a chain out of his pocket and attached it.

"Time to deliver you to your new master, slut."

He blinked. "Oh. Will I be fucked a lot?"

"That you will, slut. Your new master is eagerly awaiting your arrival. Now come along." Moody disillusioned the both of them, then led him via the chain, out of the castle, past the wards, and then grabbed hold of him so he could disapparate the both of them.

The disillusionment spells were removed, the robe he was wearing was removed, and Moody led him through a door. The chain he was holding was secured to a ring in the floor. "Kneel, slut. Your master will be along shortly."

"Yes, sir."

"Good slut," Moody said, then went through the door again.

He frowned slightly, already antsy with need, then looked up when a shockingly handsome man entered the room from somewhere behind the throne.

"What an adorable pet slut you are," the man said as he took a seat.

"Are you my new master?" he asked, lowering his eyes and trying not to have a panic attack over seeing an older Tom Riddle staring down at him.

"Yes, pet, I am. You will obey me in all things or you will be punished with a lack of sex."

He gasped. That was the ultimate horror. He needed sex like he needed to breathe. "Yes, Master."

"Do you know who I am?"

He adopted a frown of confusion and said, "You are my master?"

After a short pause he heard, "Good. So long as you remember your place and obey me in all things, life will be wonderful for you." Riddle got up and unsecured the chain from the ring, then tugged him to his feet, then away.

He was led to a bedroom suite and subjected to several spells, then pushed onto the bed. The chain was removed from the collar. "I'm going to impregnate you, pet. You are going to bear my heirs. And once you are pregnant, I will chain you in a room during the day so that any of my people can fuck you when they have a moment. You'd like that, wouldn't you."

"I want all the cocks, Master."

Riddle smirked happily. "Until you are pregnant you will remain here. You are only allowed this room and the adjoining bathroom."

"I am not to leave the suite," he said dutifully. "I will not leave this suite, unless Master takes me elsewhere."

"Such a good little slut. Now get on your hands and knees."

He obeyed and was pleased when Riddle started paddling his arse. It was what he was used to, what he had learned to crave, almost as much as all the sex. It just wasn't right if he wasn't in some kind of pain at that point. He was flipped onto his back when his arse was raw, startling a squeak out of him.

"Now spread your legs for your master."

The second he did Riddle banished his own clothes and moved in between his legs, then thrust into his pussy. The tears came, as they always did, but it felt so good.

"That's it, those are lovely tears," Riddle said as he started moving. His hands on Harry's hips were cruel, but it made Harry's cock jump more to attention, which made Riddle chuckle. Riddle pounded him hard and fast and, when he had come, kept his cock inside Harry's pussy as he lazily stroked Harry's cock toward completion.

"It will be glorious once you are swelled with my child. I shall fuck you until such time as you are pregnant. You need to be fucked."

"I do, Master, I need it."

"You need it because I have ordered it so. Do you have any questions, pet?"

"Did Master arrange for the tournament to be like it was?"

"Yes. I ordered it to be so, all to bring us to this point, with you as my obedient, eager, willing slut. I will assign a house-elf to you, but you will have no power over it. It will not obey you, because it obeys me. It will ensure you have the food you require, and it will inform me if you ever disobey me. Do you remember what your punishment would be if you did?"

"I wouldn't … get sex, Master. I need sex, so I … can't disobey." He came, a moan ripping out of his throat.

"Good. You will give me as many heirs as I require, because I order it so. Now," Riddle said as he slowly withdrew, "this is to make sure none of my seed escapes." He flashed an object in front of Harry's eyes, but too quickly for him to make sense of it. A moment later he felt something being shoved inside him and straps being wrapped into place and locked. "You are not to remove that, not that you could."

"Yes, Master," he dutifully said. It was rather nice to have something still inside him.

"You enjoyed our coupling, pet?"

"Oh yes, Master," he said with real enthusiasm.

"You enjoyed the paddling?"

He blushed. "Yes, Master."

"Why the blush, pet?"

"Because I'm a little ashamed for liking it, Master, but I can't seem to help myself."

"Don't worry, pet. I will see to it that you are well fucked and paddled. You will not want for those things. All you have to do is obey."

"Yes, Master, thank you."

"Any other questions, pet?"

"May I keep the collar, Master?"

"Of course, pet. It shows everyone that I own you. I wonder…"

He held his breath for a moment.

"I wonder if I should give you a special mark."

"Master?" he said, wishing the man would get it up again already and fuck him in the arse. He wanted more. He was used to three men at once, damn it, so he could only pray he got pregnant quickly and would be chained out during the day for the use of Riddle's men.

"I shall have to think about it. Perhaps… Yes. Perhaps once you are pregnant with my first child, I shall give you a special mark, one that I can use to give you the pain you require."

His eyes went wide. As freaked out as he was by being in the clutches of his alleged sworn enemy, he couldn't help but love the idea. "Where would you put it, Master?"

"Where everyone could see it, of course, pet. Most likely covering your back. Would you like that, pet?"

"Yes, I would, Master. Will you fuck me again, please? I want more."

"You're a pushy little thing, aren't you."

"I am what you made me, Master," he said simply.

For a moment he thought the man was going to hit him, but then a contemplative look crossed Riddle's face. He was flipped over and hauled up on his hands and knees, then Riddle slid his cock into Harry's arse, causing a fresh wash of tears, and began to fuck him hard, his hands again cruel at his hips.

In the end? Riddle devised some toys for him to keep him occupied while his master was busy with work. Enchanted toys that would fuck his arse and mouth, and another one to stimulate his cock so he could come. It wasn't as good as real ones, but it sufficed.

Riddle also paddled him every morning and every evening, which was lovely and kept his arse nice and tender, and fucked his pussy once a day. The best day ever came when he was informed, "How lovely, pet. You are pregnant with my heir."

He beamed with happiness. He didn't know the first thing about being pregnant, but he did know it meant he would be chained out for use, and that was fantastic. After he ate his breakfast and visited the bathroom, Riddle padded him raw, then snapped a chain onto his collar and led him outside the suite—he didn't even know how many days it had been—and brought him back to the throne room.

The chain was secured to the ring in the floor so he couldn't get away (not that he would) and the Death Eaters were called in, along with their sons. He cried before they even touched him, because there were so many men waiting to fill his holes. Life was good. All he had to do was obey.

— fin —