The Gryffinwhore Chronicles Vol I

by MarkRoughfellow

A potion making mishap in the Slytherin common room puts Draco, Crabbe and Goyle in possession of a dangerous and potent potion. When they try it on house rival Hermione, they discover some unexpected results.

((All characters depicted are 18 years of age or older. This is a work of fiction intended purely for enjoyment. It is not intended to represent any individuals alive or dead or events that have ever actually occurred.))

The Gryffinwhore Chronicles

Volume I

By,

LeAnn Pines & Mark Roughfellow

Art by Genetic Perfection AI ( GeneticPerfectionAI)

"Yes, with the appropriate precautions, the shavings from a mandrake root can be acquired without nearly as much ear-splitting nuisance," Professor Severus Snape was instructing the students seated behind small, pock-marked cauldrons on tiered risers.

The mandrake root itself had been effectively gagged with a ball of cotton and thin twine—the cotton stuffed into its mouth-like hole where its notorious screaming emerged from. The thing didn't breathe—at least not through its screamer hole, but the cotton was sufficient to muffle the insufferable sound it made.

Snape used the back edge of his pruning snips to scrape some of the dust from the lower root system of the mandrake root, its leg-like appendages—following the asinine habit of students to anthropomorphize a simple plant just because it screamed and wiggled around.

Speaking of insufferable sounds, Ms. Hermione Granger had been raising her hand for the last ten minutes or so, waving it around and leaning forward in her bench, trying to get his attention as though he had merely not noticed her. She likely had complaints about the plant's "feelings" or the laughable idea that it could feel pain—and Snape had no patience for any more from her.

"The dust from a mandrake root can serve many purposes in a proper potion," Snape shoved the plant back into its pot of soil, further silencing its scream as his lips popped and fired spittle with each p-word he pronounced within an inch of its life, "not least of which is a cultivated passivity. Dark wizards have been known to use this root powder on ogres and giants to make them thralls of greater armies. It has been used in secret to aid negotiations with hostile powers or ease tensions in hostage situations."

There was more, but the bell tower announced the top of the hour and any further discussion of the side effects of mandrake root powder were drowned out by the clamor of students packing their things unbidden. Snape had learned over the years to pick his battles in this regard.

"Oh, bugger all! Study the ingredients for Felix Felicis potion. There may be a pop quiz later in the week," Snape shouted into the throng of students rushing out of their potions class. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration as he closed the book on his lectern.

The boys of Slytherin House, Draco Malfoy, Crab and Goyle were among the first out the door. Amongst themselves they were whispering about the lecture they'd just heard.

"Why I'd like to feed some of that mandrake dirt to that little Mudblood cunt, Granger!" Malfoy was seething, still upset from being corrected by her earlier in the day in charms class, something that was happening almost daily at this point, "I'd make her do house elf chores and rub my feet!"

"Yeah, and maybe swallow your kids too," Goyle chuckled, earning a knowing laugh from Crab, but Malfoy didn't seem to get it, which made him angry.

"Shut it, buffoon!" Malfoy slapped his potions textbook against the bigger guy's stomach, "I bet Snape won't even do anything with that powder he scraped off there. Maybe tonight we could double back and swipe it for ourselves."

"No need, Draco," Crab smiled, holding up a sealed petri dish filled with brown powder, "I've already nicked it."

Malfoy smiled.

"Let's get to the common room. I have a cauldron there," the three of them rushed up the shifting staircase to the Slytherin common room, that accepted them without a word.

Hermioned watched with narrowed eyes as Malfoy and his goons practically sprinted in the direction of the Slytherin common room. They looked way too pleased about something. She wondered if it had anything to do with their potions lesson as she, Harry, and Ron joined the throng of students moving towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"I don't know why you bother raising your hand, Hermione. Snape's never going to call on you, and even if he did, he'd just insult you," Harry reasoned.

Hermione was stubborn. "I don't care; that's not the point."

"What is the point then? For your arm to go limp?" Ron asked as they grabbed a seat at the Gryffindor table. He proceeded to load his plate up with more food than Hermione had eaten all day.

"I was merely going to point out the fact that mandrake root dust is extremely volatile as a potion ingredient. Not even a pinch more than called for in a potion could lead to disastrous effects. There have been many cases in wizarding law about the legality of its use, especially when it comes to mind control potions. It's hardly something students should be messing about with."

"Oh relax, Hermione. You're starting to sound like Umbridge did," Ron said, half joking.

Hermione kicked his foot under the table in a knee-jerk reaction. There was no one she hated more than that woman. "Not funny. Don't ever compare me to that miserable toad," she said seriously. "Anyway, not only is mandrake dust a controversial ingredient in of itself, but there's also controversy in some wizarding circles about the ethical treatment of mandrakes as a potion ingredient as a whole. In fact, the books I've been studying show–"

Ron cut her off with a loud groan. "I knew this was going to turn into a lecture. Please Hermione, spare us. It's one thing to care about house elves, but mandrakes? You gotta draw the line somewhere."

Hermione noticed Harry started to nod in agreement before realizing Hermione was watching and immediately stopping. The bushy haired muggle born sighed but didn't argue. She knew her two best friends only had so much tolerance for her justice crusades on behalf of magical creatures, so she relented for now.

She just couldn't shake the memory of that skeevy look on Malfoy's face as Snape had explained the potential uses for the plant dust. He looked all too excited to try its influencing properties for himself…

"We need something to form the base," Crabbe was leaning over Malfoy's shoulder, of the three of them Crabbe had the best head for potions.

"Well, obviously! Dimwit. Goyle, go fetch the Squill you've been keeping on the window-sill. It just flowered—the bulb should be nice and ripe. I've got some Powdered Peacock Feathers…" Malfoy interrupted and reprimanded his subordinates, even as he barked orders. After some fishing he extracted a phial of blue powder from his green and silver trimmed robe.

"Well… I was savin' that bulb for the Felix Felicis final," Goyle shuffled nervously, hesitant to sacrifice his carefully tended plant before the flower gave seed.

"Oh bugger the final!" Malfoy seethed, selecting a nice-looking Ashwinder egg from the communal ingredients cupboard, "I'll buy you a new bulb, now be quick about it! Incendio."

A whip of his wand sent out a spark that lit a Bunsen burner below the cast-iron cauldron at the center of the Slytherin common room. Colloquially, it was known as a "Legacy Cauldron," since generations of ambitious Slytherin students had mixed thousands of potions in the same cauldron. The tiny openings in the black metal opened only under extreme heat, exposing tiny bits of potions past resulting in complex and often unexpectedly powerful potions emerging from the cauldron.

Small curls of smoke rose up the sides of the cauldron, adding to the dense layers of soot.

"Do you even have a recipe?" Goyle asked Malfoy, who was already cracking the egg into the warm cauldron. Goyle flinched slightly when Malfoy snatched his beloved Squill out of the pot by her stem.

Malfoy used a long knife to cut the bulb open on the diagonal, squeezing out all the seeds, pulp and juice into the bubbling egg. Once the bulb was squeezed dry, he tossed the rind in as well. Next he added the powdered feathers, which raised plumes of pinkish smoke as the fire rose and the boil grew more rapid.

"Now, add the root dust."

Crabbe looked at the dish of brown powder, uncertain.

"How much?"

"Don't be daft!" Draco slapped Crabbe's arm, causing the whole glass dish of brown powder to spill into the cauldron.

There came a bright flash and red sparks flew up from the places where the dust hit the surface which ceased boiling all at once—going still, with a perfectly flat, reflective, mirror-like surface.

"An incantation! Do you know one?" Crabbe knew it was a mistake to let Malfoy do the brewing. It was vitally important to know and have practiced the appropriate incantation in advance.

"Uh—" Malfoy, of course, did not. Instead, he waved his wand in what he estimated to be a yin-yang pattern and said the first thing that came to mind, "succumnibus totallis!"

A flash!

A puff of purple smoke.

And what remained was a rose-gold puddle of metallic looking liquid. Crabbe set up a brass strainer and iron colander, funneling the liquid into an opaque, white phial shaped like a pear. The large cauldron was set on hinges so that it could be poured carefully, which it was, without incident, since it was Crabbe who did the pouring.

"There," Crabbe stuffed a plain cork in the top of the bottle, "that's… something."

"Now to get that Mudblood to drink it!"

Malfoy greedily grabbed the flask, which hadn't been given time to cool. He cried out pathetically and dropped it from his tender hands. Goyle was barely able to slide a cushion underneath the falling bottle before it broke on the ground.

"That was close…" Goyle sighed.

Back in the Great Hall, Crabbe and Goyle had left their cloaks behind in their room. The morning chill had worn away and it provided a decent excuse for them to double back to the dorms before lunch. Only Malfoy wore his Slytherin cloak, leading the other two down the aisle between house tables.

As they passed, Malfoy nudged Potter with his shoulder, forcing him to spill his water cup into his plate—clumsy nonce that he was.

"Think you've got enough to eat there, Weasly? You great, round, red tub-a-guts!" for all his shortcomings, Malfoy was never left with an empty quiver of insults, "not like me, Quiddich season is starting, I've got to stay light on my feet."

Malfoy tossed a golden delicious apple in the air and snatched it aggressively, like he was snatching the Snitch to win a game. As he came up behind Granger, he reached over her, sitting below him as she was, and polished the side of his apple against her sweater vest—making her firm breasts jiggle slightly under her uniform top.

What no one saw—with the audacity of such a distraction, was the releasing of a hidden compartment in Malfoy's pinky ring. Generations of social-climbing and intrigue had made many family heirlooms of tools for deception and poisoning. His ring was one such device.

Up the sleeve of his robe, Malfoy's ring opened the hinged mouth of a snake wrapped around his finger. The immaculate metalwork snake's body was completely hollow and from the shadow of his sleeve, roughly an ounce and a half of the gold liquid was poured into Hermione's lunch.

Malfoy took a dramatic bite of his apple after closing up his ring.

"Don't expect a repeat of last year, Potter. I've been practicing on my new broom all summer. I make the wind look slow."

Another bite and Malfoy turned on his heel.

"Wind look… slow!" Crabbe reiterated, tossing Hermione's chaotic hair to one side before tumbling back into place.

Goyle blew wetly at Harry, causing one of the levitating candles to burn out and a glob of the hot wax to spill out and land on the back of Hermione's hand. The three were chuckling and congratulating one another as they walked over to their seats at the head of the Slytherin table. Unlike Potter and his crew, Malfoy's house respected him enough to save his seats for him and his boys.

"Now, we wait," Draco smirked, glancing back at Hermione, curious to see what would happen.

"Scourgify", Hermione said, pointing her wand at Harry's plate. Instantly the spilled water evaporated before it had a chance to turn his food to mush. She glared at Draco with her usual contempt.

She didn't know why Malfoy was paying them so much attention as of late, but he seemed to torment them now more than ever before. His bullying was getting a lot more physical lately too, especially towards her. Hermione instantly tensed up as Malfoy came up behind leaned over, trapping her in his arms as he rubbed his apple on the side of her sweater, just under her breasts. They jiggled at the motion slightly, drawing the attention of the young men at the table enough to distract them all from Malfoy's poisoning of Hermione's cup.

Draco crunched the apple obnoxiously next to her ear. His voice vibrated against he r as he taunted Harry, "Don't expect a repeat of last year, Potter. I've been practicing on my new broom all summer. I make the wind look slow."

"Harry could beat you even if he were riding a mop, Malfoy," she snapped. Normally her strategy was to ignore him, but it was hard to ignore him when he was boxing her in like this. Hermione slapped at his arms to push him away. "And don't touch me again."

She had slapped Malfoy before, but never had she hexed him. Now might be a good time to start. But before she had much of a chance to consider it, Malfoy turned away towards the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle followed after him, but not before ruffling her bushy hair irritatingly and blowing out a candle, causing a hot glob of wax to spill onto the back of her hand.

Hermione gasped sharply and wiped the hot wax on a napkin. The trio seethed after Malfoy and his cronies.

"They're getting more obnoxious by the day," Hermione grumbled. "You guys have got to beat them in the Quidditch game. That should shut them up for a while. You've been practicing hard, right?"

"'Course we have," Harry said defensively.

"Thanks for the confidence, Hermione," Ron muttered.

"I'm sorry," she said honestly. "He's just really getting to me."

She took a long sip of her drink as Harry and Ron discussed the upcoming Quidditch match. Her interest in quidditch extended just as far as her desire for revenge against Malfoy, so once Harry and Ron started talking specific strategies, she listened but turned her attention to eating and drinking deeply from her water goblet.

It was not until several minutes later that Hermione realized something was off. She was having trouble concentrating on the topic at hand. Her nipples had been hard since Malfoy had leaned over her, and now she was starting to feel… different. The bookworm squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, but she could not quite discern why. Something just felt off.

"…Right, Hermione?"

"Huh?"

Ron was looking sheepishly at her. "I said, you'll help me with my charms essay, won't you? With quidditch practice ramping up, I haven't had much time for homework."

Normally Hermione would tell Ron to do his own work and she'd look it over after, or at the most let him borrow her notes, but today something felt different. As she looked into Ron's clear blue eyes and freckled face, she felt compelled to help him.

She smiled sweetly and pulled several rolls of parchment out of her bag. "I've already finished that essay; you can borrow it for reference if you want."

Ron couldn't help the dumbfounded expression on his face as he accepted the parchment. "Really? Wow, thanks Hermione."

His hand touched her briefly as she handed her essay off to him, and Hermione squirmed further in her seat. Something was off, and being around Harry and Ron and in the crowded Great Hall was not helping matters. She felt strongly she needed to be alone to get a handle on whatever she was feeling.

She stood up abruptly, rattling the goblets on the table. "I've got to go."

"What? Why?"

Hermione had no desire to explain. Her breath was coming quicker and the heat in her belly pooled liquid hot. Why was she feeling this way with no explanation? Hermione turned on her heel and rushed from the Great Hall.

"Getting that essay was way too easy," said Ron, watching Hermione's retreating form.

"What's gotten into her?" Harry wondered aloud.

But in the end the boys didn't worry too much about it; Hermione was known for making vague statements before rushing off to the library. She'd likely inform them of whatever she was up to later that night.

Hermione rushed up the moving staircases two steps at a time. She felt light headed and strange, and all of a sudden quite warm. Her breath came in short bursts and sweat beaded at her temples. Her nipples were hard and pressing urgently against her sweater, and the fire in her belly would not cease. She was aroused.

But why? There was no explanation. Her head raced. Should she go to the hospital wing? That would be so embarrassing. What would she even say? Madam Pomfrey, I'm feeling so unbelievably aroused and let my friends borrow my homework without reprimanding them. That isn't like me, so I think I must be cursed!

Madam Pomfrey would likely laugh in her face, and rightly so! No, it was best if Hermione were alone for now. Perhaps this was just some bizarre late stage symptom of puberty.

So intent on escaping the hordes of students heading towards the Great Hall, Hermione did not notice that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were tailing her.

The closer she got to Gryffindor tower the greater effects of the potion took hold. She bit back a moan as her pussy clenched in desire for no apparent reason.

God, this didn't have anything to do with Malfoy touching her, did it? Ugh, she despised the very thought - there was no way she'd have gotten aroused from that, right?

Hermione stopped a few staircases short of Gryffindor tower. She leant against the wall, being careful not to knock into any of the portrait residents as she caught her breath. She closed her eyes, trying to get a handle on her strange feelings. She wished she had someone to talk to about this, but she didn't have any close female friends.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

Her eyes shot open and she found Lavender and Parvati staring at her with a curiously concerned look on their faces. Hermione was used to this expression from them, though at present it was more severe than normal.

"I - I'm fine," she said, breathing deeply, very aware her cheeks were flushed and glistening with sweat.

Lavender and Parvati shared a knowing look and giggled at her expense. "Whatever you say, Hermione." Thankfully they left her without further comment, but by the looks of it, they were headed to the Gryffindor common room. Damn it! Would they be going to their dormitory? Her hopes of alleviating her desire in her bed were shattered.

Hermione looked both ways; the hallway was deserted, as were a handful of empty classrooms. Her fingers itched and she squeezed her legs together as she weighed her options. She could duck into one of these empty classrooms and touch herself. She blushed at the very thought. She'd never considered such a thing before. The idea of that was absolutely absurd… yet…

Hermione dashed into the closest empty classroom and quietly closed the door. She leaned against it as her fingers lingered at the hem of her skirt. She only hesitated a moment before slipping her hand underneath and pressing her fingertips against her panties, applying the pressure she desperately needed. She almost gasped upon discovering how wet she was. Hermioned sighed, relieved. She gently rubbed her clitoris through her panties and moaned softly, barely audible.

Crabbe and Goyle realized too late that Draco was serious about only eating an apple for lunch and when Hermione made her hasty exit from the table, Draco practically dragged Goyle away from the table. Crabbe was barely able to grab some brioche rolls from the middle of the table before racing after. He dropped one of the rolls when they abruptly stopped a few flights down on the moving staircase. The roll fell for what seemed like an eternity, being bounced back and forth by the huge, rotating flights of stairs.

Hermione stopped to talk with the resident gossips of her house. Draco leapt over the railing, landing deftly on another set of stairs as the swept past. He reached the top of that staircase and took a long stride onto another as it passed.

Crabbe and Goyle just stared dumbfounded at Draco's athleticism. Parvati and Lavender were still giggling as they passed by the two husky Slytherins, mistaking their genuine awe for awkwardness around girls. Neither of them ever saw Draco, as he dropped back onto the staircase where he started just moments after they were shuttled out of view.

"You flat-footed oafs! When I say follow close, I mean [i]follow close[/i]!" Draco seethed, reaching back to swing at Goyle, who flinched hard. The sound of a door slamming upstairs, "the Divination classroom! Let's go!"

In the wake of the scandal around Professor Trelawney, Divination classes were suspended for at least the semester. No one would have cause to enter that room for months. Moreover, the whole place was perfumed and padded with incense and silk pillows from one corner to the other.

After negotiating the stairs, Draco pounded his fist against the wooden door.

"Open up, Mudblood! You know students aren't permitted in classrooms without supervision. As the official hallway supervisor, I demand entry for myself and my deputies," sure the positions had been given to them by Dolores Umbridge who was since disgraced and outcast, no one had ever officially stripped them of these titles, so technically it was all true.

Besides, if Granger was in fact supplicated and made docile by their potion with Mandrake shavings, she ought to obey this firm command anyway—even if his authority to give commands was on flimsy pretense.

"Open this door this instant, or I'll call for Filtch to bring the keys!" more banging followed.

Hermione leaned against the door with her skirt hitched up around her waist and her fingers damp with her own arousal. She massaged her clit gently through her panties, eyes closed, losing herself to pleasure in a very un-Hermione fashion. Distracted as she was, she did not notice she'd been followed until Malfoy was quite literally banging down her door.

"Open up, Mudblood! You know students aren't permitted in classrooms without supervision. As the official hallway supervisor, I demand entry for myself and my deputies."

Hermione yelped in shock and immediately began righting her skirt. She wiped her arousal on the inside of her thigh hastily, then turned to open the door, as if compelled to by some invisible force.

"Open this door this instant, or I'll call for Filtch to bring the keys!" Malfoy began banging on the door with such force he nearly fell inside when Hermione pulled the door open.

Hermione backed away further into the classroom in haste as Malfoy and his cronies entered. She tripped on one of the pouffy chairs and fell down into it. It wasn't until now she realized they were in one of the old divination classrooms. It was dark and dusty, but the pouffy pink chairs were just as comfy as ever and a faint smell of Trelawny's perfume still lingered.

Great, this was just great! She was trapped with Slytherins in the divination classrooms fighting unbearable arousal. What could possibly go wrong?

"What do you want?" She snapped, though her voice sounded more breathy than she'd intended. Hermione stumbled to her feet out of the pouffy chair and looked the three of them over. Her eyes fluttered back and forth between them rapidly, trying to gain some sort of clue as to why they'd followed her. When had Crabbe and Goyle gotten so muscular? And had Malfoy's eye always been such a beautiful shade of blue? The sight of them had her heart racing and she wasn't completely sure it was for the right reasons.

Goyle was the first to notice it.

The sheen on her fingers, the faint whiff of feminine arousal among the odor of dust and decay. The seats, the crystal balls, the stacks of porcelain tea pots were all cold from months of laying idle—but something in the room was radiating heat.

Goyle had raised that Squill from a tiny seed, no bigger than the head of a pin. He'd nursed it, sung to it, held it under the covers when the snows made the window-sill treacherous for a young, magical seedling. Though not sexual, Goyle had been intimate with the Squill throughout its life, inwardly hoping that it would translate to the potion he brewed from the bulb—some liquid luck with a predilection him getting lucky.

Now, with the bulb brewed into this… unknown concoction, Goyle quickly interpreted the signs of arrival of his notorious adversary Hermione Granger. The flushed cheeks, the labored breathing—even a flash of sodden panties as she fell backwards into an overstuffed cushion filled with raven down.

"She's horny," Goyle whispered behind his hand, tipping Malfoy, who was oblivious to the phenomena until his lackey whispered in his ear.

Malfoy still expected her to be docile, passive—not cock-hungry and desperate.

"Are we interrupting something, Mudblood? Were you in here touching your filthy, muggle flesh?" when she didn't immediately deny it, Malfoy laughed and slapped Goyle's upper arm, "I think she's been tossing herself off in here. Smell that, do you?"

"I smell it alright," Goyle had locked eyes with Granger, staring at her intensely while Crabbe barred the door against any new arrivals, "I think you're right, Malfoy. She was in here diddling herself."

"We should send an owl to Snape, get him to bring Dumbledore, maybe McGonagall—she'll be expelled before her pussy even dries up! This is why Muggle-born sluts like you shouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts. Maybe now they'll stop letting you Mudbloods in here." Malfoy sneered as the other two surrounded Hermione's little cushion seat, looming over her.

"Unless…" Goyle began, adjusting the swollen outline of what seemed to be a well above-average sized cock behind his charcoal-colored slacks.

"Unless you can offer us a reason not to tell," Draco agreed, pointedly unbuckling his belt, "how about it, Granger? What's it worth to you not to have the headmaster find out what you've been doing in here?"

"I know it's Quiddich season, Ginny—but that doesn't change anything. I want to spend time with my girlfriend, it doesn't seem like that ought to be a crime!" Dean Thomas was raising his voice at the red-headed seeker just outside the Great Hall.

They had tucked themselves up into a dimly lit corner of the passageway that led into the Great Hall, but they were certainly not in private. Dean was losing his temper more and more often with Ginny and they were fighting more than they ever had before. It didn't bode well for their fledgling relationship.

The true root of their tension had nothing to do with Quiddich or even how much time they spent together. What always seemed to trigger these fights between them was the ongoing disagreement about sex.

Dean was already sexually active and Ginny had repeatedly said that she wasn't ready—but it didn't stop Dean from trying, almost relentlessly so. Snogging in the Boar's Head, his hands moving under her sweater in the halls, heavy handed invites for her to cross the common room and sneak into the boys' dorm or vise versa. It seemed that Dean could scarcely lay his eyes on his on-again-off-again girlfriend that he felt bound to try and get under her uniform.

But even as uncomfortable and irritated as his nagging made her, Dean did have his charms. A most exquisite kisser and apparently someone who knew all the weak points where a girl could be touched, caressed or kissed that would make her pliable.

Ginny felt herself becoming more pliable by the day.

"Maybe we should break up," Dean said at last—though not for the first time, "I'm tired of wasting all my time and attention on a cock-tease."

It was harsh, but it was meant to be. He'd been her first almost everything. First kiss, first hand-hold—the first cock she had ever sucked. And what a cock… Dean had discovered that the threat of losing him could often steer girls to being more sexually adventurous. Sooner or later, he knew that he'd break through Ginny's resistance.

"Go on then. Go sit with your brother and his famous friends—but don't expect me to be waiting around after Quiddich practice unless I have something to look forward to."

Dean was manipulative and cruel—but he was also a year older and popular. Ginny dared not stand up to him in any meaningful way.

This situation could not be worse. Here she was, cornered by Malfoy and his gang, in the most compromised state one could be in, while possibly under the influence of dark magic. Even though she now had her legs crossed tight she was sure they'd seen a flash of her pink panties, possibly even noticed how wet she was…oh god this was beyond mortifying!

She watched, paralyzed, as Goyle whispered something to Malfoy. Whatever he said seemed to please Malfoy greatly for a wide, sinister smile spread across his face. The three Slytherins closed in on Hermione like the venomous snakes they were, forming a circle around the Gryffindor.

"Are we interrupting something, Mudblood? Were you in here touching your filthy, muggle flesh?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed a few times as her brain worked hard to come up with an answer, a denial, some sort of excuse, but the words would not form. She felt oddly compelled to tell them the truth.

When she faltered in answering him, Malfoy laughed and the look in his eyes grew increasingly dangerous. He slapped Goyle's upper arm while still eying her up and down and said, "I think she's been tossing herself off in here. Smell that, do you?"

Hermione turned scarlet. Was it really that obvious? Could they really smell her? "I - I-" she tried to speak, but words would not come.

"I smell it alright," Goyle agreed as Crabbe barred the door. He was staring at her like he wanted to eat her. Maybe he did. "I think you're right, Malfoy. She was in here diddling herself."

"We should send an owl to Snape, get him to bring Dumbledore, maybe McGonagall—she'll be expelled before her pussy even dries up! This is why Muggle-born sluts like you shouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts. Maybe now they'll stop letting you Mudbloods in here."

The three of them seemed to loom closer and closer around her, poised as she was on the little cushion seat. The Mudblood of interest squirmed on the seat, eyes darting between the three of them like a cornered rabbit. She could smell them too, their male musk, that intoxicating scent that overwhelmed her as they surrounded her. Hermione was blushing bright red with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. Even drugged as she was, the idea of Snape or Dumbledore, any professor, being told of her naughty extracurricular activity in the Divination classroom, was unbearable.

If Hermione was in her right brain, logic would tell her it would be stupid for Malfoy to tell anyone. One because he didn't have any proof, and two, would he have the balls to bring up such a topic with an instructor? But Hermione was not in her right brain. In fact, she was very much in a brain fog of lust and the desire to please.

Is this how Ron felt? If this was simply a natural state for men, then she owed him a big apology for telling him he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, for now Hermione understood how hard it was to think when your thoughts are clouded in lust. Like right now…

She noticed the bulge in Goyle's trousers before he drew attention to it. Her lips parted briefly in surprise. He was hard already? She had thought when they'd found her they'd been disgusted with her, had thought she was ugly and smelled, while in fact it was the exact opposite. All three young men, her enduring bullies, were aroused by her presence. Hermione let out a breath at that realization as a wave of arousal crashed over her.

"Unless…" Goyle started.

"Unless you can offer us a reason not to tell," Draco agreed, pointedly unbuckling his belt, "how about it, Granger? What's it worth to you not to have the headmaster find out what you've been doing in here?"

This couldn't be happening. Draco, who despised her and made fun of her bushy hair and buck teeth, was coercing her into sexual favors. He glared down at her with a combination of lust and resentment, and a whole lot of smugness. It was an expression that would enrage the normal Hermione; mandrake essence Hermione however… that expression sent a shockwave straight to her core. Her legs spread wider on the pillowy seat subconsciously as she finally responded in a calmer tone than she felt.

"There's no reason to tell the professors. Please, don't tell anyone you found me here."

Her voice was very soft, you almost had to strain to hear it. She was very docile and quiet, a stark contrast to her usual brave behavior. The mandrake essence was certainly doing its job.

Hermione didn't want to be too presumptuous, so she started by helping pull down Draco's pants slowly. Her fingers lingered at the top of his boxes for a moment, then in one fluid motion pulled them down his thighs.

Draco's cock wasn't too big, but wasn't too small either. It was altogether average. Hermione had only ever seen one cock in real life, but she was quite familiar with diagrams of them so knew 5 inches was about average. Viktor's cock had been several inches larger and a bit thicker, but that didn't mean Malfoy's wasn't a sight to behold. He was a lot less hairy than Viktor, with thin, pale blonde hairs covering his balls. Hermione leaned forward but stopped herself, curious about something.

"Are you sure you want a filthy Mudblood touching you like this?" she asked. She wasn't really expecting an answer. It was obvious he liked it - his cock spoke for him. The tone she used was more questioning than mocking, for the concoction Malfoy had drugged her with made her eager to please and she was genuinely shocked he wanted her sexually after years of bullying her appearance.

Unable to wait any longer, she reached out and grasped the base of his cock in one hand while the other stroked Goyle's clothed cock. Goyle's felt much thicker than his leader's. Hermione's brown chocolate eyes stared into Malfoy's icy blue and she asked him in earnest. "Is this really okay? My dirty Mudblood mouth wrapped around your pure cock… think what your father would say."

As she spoke her lips hovered just over the tip of his cock, nearly salivating. She felt compelled to serve him, though logically she could not make sense of it, she needed to give him one last chance to come to his senses about this, because she sure wasn't going to.

Ginny sighed and crossed her arms, defensive, for she and Dean had had this very same argument many times. He liked resulting to this tactic lately - trying to guilt her into sexual acts because he wanted to spend quality time with her. Well why did quality time always have to involve him trying to take her robes off? It was just nonstop snogging and being pawed at… but Ginny could not say she did not enjoy it. She did, really did in fact, but she didn't want to snog all the time, and lately Dean was pressuring her to go further and further.

Why couldn't he just respect that she wanted to wait? It's not like they'd been going out that long anyway. Just because he'd already had sex shouldn't mean she had to rush into it. And if Ginny was honest with herself, she wasn't sure Dean was the one she wanted to give her virginity to. She liked him, she did, but she still harbored a crush on Harry Potter and couldn't help wanting to "save" her virginity for him. Even though he'd never shown any interest, it was hard to help falling for the boy who'd saved your life. But Ginny knew she was lucky to be with Dean. He was extremely popular and handsome and a great distraction from her enduring crush on the boy who lived.

"I know it's Quiddich season, Ginny—but that doesn't change anything. I want to spend time with my girlfriend, it doesn't seem like that ought to be a crime!"

"It's not about Quidditch though, is it Dean?" she snapped. A few passerby glanced their way and she lowered her voice. "I know what "quality time" really means."

Even as she taunted him with her words, she uncrossed her arms and leaned in closer to him to whisper the next part in his ear. As she spoke, the tip of her tongue teased his ear every so slightly. "You just want to fuck."

But Dean was tired of her teasing, and pushed her away. "Maybe we should break up. I'm tired of wasting all my time and attention on a cock-tease. Go on then. Go sit with your brother and his famous friends—but don't expect me to be waiting around after Quidditch practice unless I have something to look forward to."

Ginny's confident look faltered. The more frequent Dean made this threat, the more nervous she became he was actually going to follow through with it one of these days. Ginny really did like being with him well enough, though it was hard to get to know someone when all you did was snog. She liked the way he made her feel sexy and desirable though, feelings she'd never felt before. His kisses and touches made her so wet; Dean knew exactly what to do with his fingers to make her go wild… and he had an impressive cock. She didn't mind sucking it, an act she'd used to think could never be pleasant, she now generally enjoyed. She liked the way he felt slipping past her lips, hard cock sliding along her tongue, his fingers threading through her long, fiery hair, encouraging her to take more of him.

The thought of it was almost enough to forgive him for his cruel behavior, and in an effort to prove he would indeed have something to look forward to, Ginny grabbed his shoulders and leaned into him, pressing her body against his. Obscured by their long robes, the seeker palmed his cock discreetly through his pants.

"You better wait around if you know what's good for you," she said teasingly. She let the promise of something more linger a moment before turning to enter the Great Hall.

As she strode over to Ron, Harry, and the others seated at the Gryffindor table, she thought that in case Dean's threat was actually real this time, she better make good on her suggestive behavior. She hadn't promised sex, but she'd promised something. Hopefully he'd be content with an enthusiastic blowjob.

"By Merlin's beard, she's actually doing it!" Draco could scarcely believe it, Hermione Granger, the stuck-up, little, know-it-all who'd been a thorn in his side since year one was actually stroking his smooth, picturesque cock—on the verge of sucking it, "this is the rightful place for dirty-blooded, muggle sluts like you! On your knees, serving your betters. Just don't try to sneak any of this pure-bred cum into that disgusting, muggle tunnel between your legs. After I paint your face with it, you'd better swallow it all."

Hermione made no reply to this as Draco had taken the back of her head in both of his palms, pushing her down on his cock in a way that he considered to be rough. When he finished speaking, Malfoy spat on her face in feigned disgust. His spit made a slapping noise as it landed on the bridge of her nose, one long strand reaching out to connect to her long, expressive eyelashes.

"Draco… Don't spit on her…" Goyle interjected, a faint sympathetic hitch in his voice, "she's being so nice…"

Hermione was caressing and stroking Goyle through his slacks, which had him rock hard by now. He hurriedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks to free his own cock as soon as possible. While Draco's was stylish and picturesque, Goyle's was massive and slightly grotesque. Goyle was uncut and straining the wide ridges of his thick rod against the inside of his foreskin. His cock was so large that the rather pronounced bend in it almost looked like an elbow.

As Hermione's slender fingers slid down his wide shaft, his foreskin overlapped the bright pink head of his cock and a clear spurt of fragrant precum spilled out onto her wrist and soon got rubbed back into the shaft of his cock as she continued stroking her.

Crabbe had moved behind her now, kneeling on a smaller cushion—perhaps intended as an ottoman to the cushion Hermione was seated on, he'd unbuttoned the large, plastic buttons on her sweater and was squeezing her round, firm tits in both hands. His cock was growing hard as well.

As his hands moved in circles and kneaded the flesh around her chest, he began unbuttoning her blouse from the middle without even loosening her scarlet and gold striped tie.

Draco was having a blast, thrusting his hips and using Hermione's face like a Fleshlight. He wasn't big enough to fuck her throat, not quite, but he was still fucking her mouth quite aggressively. His balls were slapping her chin each time he thrust into the back of her mouth. To compensate for not being big enough to gag her, Draco had moved one hand from the back of her head to grasp both ends of her tie and pull it taught each time he wanted her to go deeper on his cock.

Crabbe was fishing around inside of her bra at this point. His fingers closed around her nipple on her left breast, lightly twisting and pinching inside of her bra.

"Look at her!" Malfoy chuckled triumphantly, "she loves it!"

Dean gasped as he felt Ginny's perky, round breasts push against him. She was getting more and more persuasive by the day. She'd filled in prolifically the summer after she turned eighteen and was the talk of the school at the start of her fourth year, and Dean felt like he'd won a prize when she agreed to go out with him.

Among all of the guys in their year who privately talked about her body at length, Dean was the one with enough nerve to make a run at her and it worked! But Dean had underestimated the popularity that came from dating the flavor of the week. Rumors about his own anatomy were circulating and he had sexual opportunities that he couldn't have dreamed of last year.

Dean's problems with Ginny had more to do with Quiddich than he'd ever admit, even to himself. The truth was that his newfound confidence and reputation was threatened by dating the starting Chaser while he was an alternate averaging less than five minutes per contest.

His insecurities led him to push harder to get further with Ginny, which inevitably caused more fighting. Not to mention how he felt about her attachment to her brother and his fifth-year friends. He suspected for a long time that Ginny harbored feelings for Harry Potter, and now that she had filled out, he was noticing her for the first time.

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you then," Dean sighed, leaning in for a kiss that never came as Ginny turned on her heel and went into the Great Hall, leaving Dean with an unwanted erection and blue balls.

He was tempted to go after her like a lovesick puppy, but instead went to the field house to lift weights.

"You didn't see Hermione, did you? She rushed off acting weird, she never even said where she went," Ron was in the midst of one of his trademarked freak outs as Ginny joined their table.

"Ron, she does this all the time. You know as well as I do that she is always ends up at the library," Harry responded with a sigh, his eyes firmly locked on Ginny's chest.

"This is the rightful place for dirty-blooded, muggle sluts like you! On your knees, serving your betters. Just don't try to sneak any of this pure-bred cum into that disgusting, muggle tunnel between your legs. After I paint your face with it, you'd better swallow it all."

Hermione was going to question the logic of painting her face with his cum if he wanted her to swallow it all, and was about to insist on him cumming down her throat for better efficiency, but she didn't get the chance. Draco grabbed her by the back of her bushy mane and pulled her head down on his pale cock with some force.

"Mmph!" Hermione grunted in surprise. But Draco wasn't too rough. At most, he was as forceful as Viktor had been when he'd gotten lost in the moment. He'd always apologize profusely after, but secretly Hermione enjoyed it. It had been arousing knowing she gave him such pleasure he lost control like that.

In this case, Draco was not losing control, but desperately trying to maintain it as for the first time he had the defiant Granger at his mercy. It seemed even in the sexual realm, he was insecure as usual and desperately trying to compensate by manhandling her. His hand was loose on the back of her head even as he spat on her face in an attempt to further demean her.

"Draco… Don't spit on her…" Goyle interjected, a faint sympathetic hitch in his voice, "she's being so nice…"

Hermione didn't think she'd ever said two words to Goyle or Crabbe, so the fact Goyle was standing up for her was quite startling. She was stroking the heftier Slytherin's cock through his pants, but it wasn't long before he'd shed them, revealing a monstrous cock that curved to the left. It wasn't exactly appealing, but it was fascinating in the way a gross magical ingredient or creature interested her.

As Malfoy continued to fuck her mouth, Hermione wrapped her fingers around Goyle's cock and stroked him up and down rythmically. She made a small sound of surprise, muffled by Malfoy's pretty cock, when a great spurt of precum erupted from Goyle's cock and landed on her wrist.

Her hand squeezed briefly around his shaft in response.

At the same time, Crabbe had slithered up behind her and began touching her breasts. Hermione's breath quickened as his fingers made quick work with the buttons on her sweater. Subconsciously, she began to grind her body back against his. She felt his hard cock pressing against the small of her back and groaned around Draco's cock. She was trying to keep up with Malfoy; wanted to tease his shaft with her tongue, but he was thrusting too fast for her to do any more than focus on maintaining her ability to breathe. He released her head in favor of holding onto her tie, which he'd use to pull her down deeper on his cock whenever he pleased. Hermione found it rather hot.

Crabbe had pushed her bra aside to touch her bare breasts. Hermione yelped as his thick fingers found her left nipple and squeezed.

"Look at her!" Malfoy chuckled triumphantly, "she loves it!"

Hermione could only moan in response as he continued thrusting into her mouth with vigor, blonde balls slapping against her chin. She did love it, damn it, she did! But it wasn't enough. She needed more. She wanted Crabbe's large hands to continue where hers had left off…

The hand not jerking off Goyle slid down in between her thighs and began rubbing her clit through her panties. Hermione's moans grew louder around Draco's cock as she began to touch herself, fingers slipping beneath her panties and massaging her clit in a slow and steady rhythm. She was even wetter than she had been, the eroticism of sucking her tormentor's cock and fondling his friends made her body primed for more.

As Ginny joined Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, she felt the odd sensation of many eyes staring at her. It was a feeling that was happening more and more frequently ever since coming back to Hogwart this year. Ginny wasn't an idiot; she figured it was because of her tits. When she'd left at the end of last year she'd been nearly flat as a board, but she'd had a growth spurt over the summer and this fall she'd returned with boobs so big they caused her uniform sweaters and shirts not to fit properly anymore. They'd be even bigger this morning, but she was wearing a tight sports bra for Quidditch practice.

"You didn't see Hermione, did you? She rushed off acting weird, she never even said where she went," Her brother asked as she sat down beside him.

Harry answered for her, sighing, "Ron, she does this all the time. You know as well as I do that she always ends up at the library."

Though he spoke to Ron, his attention seemed directed at her chest, but he looked away so hastily upon catching her eye she couldn't be sure. That had been happening more frequently lately, ever since she'd developed her hourglass figure, she thought she'd catch him staring at her, but though Ginny had gained much confidence since being Voldemort's thrall, she couldn't bring herself to believe Harry was actually, finally, interested in her. Plus, she was with Dean… For now

"Harry's right," Ginny agreed, grabbing a couple pieces of toast to butter. "We can catch up with her later. You can't expect her to watch every Quidditch practice, can you?"

Ron mumbled something about Hermione acting strangely when she'd left but dropped it. He reached for a pastry. Ginny noticed he already had one large platter and a small one with the remains of food in front of him.

"You should really have a lighter breakfast before practice, Ron."

"I might as well eat a little more if we've got the time. We're already going to be late thanks to you," Her brother scolded. He almost left it at that, but could not help himself from asking, "Where were you? Off snogging Dean again?

"That is none of your business. And, honestly, weird that you'd ask."

It had taken her brother the better part of a month to realize she was actually dating someone, but now that he had it was all he ever seemed to ask her about.

"I'm just looking out for my little sister, is that so wrong?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Dean is literally your friend!"

"Exactly! So I know what he's like!"

She almost laughed, but Harry didn't look amused, and Ron looked as serious as he could be with a piece of danish attached to his lip.

The youngest Weasley did not have a response and munched her toast in silence, which did nothing to alleviate Ron's fears his innocent sister was being defiled by his big, black roommate.

At the Quidditch pitch, Katie, Fred, and George were already passing the quaffle back and forth in the air while Angelina released the golden snitch. Ginny, Harry, and Ron came jogging up to her.

"Sorry we're late. Ron kept going back for seconds," Ginny said.

"Hey! That's –"

Angelina rolled her eyes at the bickering siblings. "I don't care. I don't need any excuses; just hurry up and get in the air!"

After a quick change into Quidditch gear and grabbing their brooms, the two Weasleys and Potter joined the rest of the Gryffindors for Quidditch took to the skies like a bird; she almost felt more comfortable on a broom than her own feet. She spent the better part of the morning practicing passing maneuvers with Angelina and Katie, and getting the quaffle past Ron. They practiced together growing up, so Ron knew most of her tricks, but Ginny was still able to keep him on his toes. He'd like to say she got the quaffle past him 50% of the time, but she knew it was more like 70%.

About halfway through practice, the golden snitch appeared near the bottom of the goalposts Ginny was speeding towards, but Harry was slow to spot it. Angelina's booming voice resounded through the field, "POTTER! Stop staring at Weasley and PAY ATTENTION!"

Two blurs of red and gold suddenly sped past her. Fred and George, Gryffindor's beaters, taunted Harry as they came whizzing by.

"Please Harry, stop staring at us."

"Yeah, we know we're beautiful, but the snitch is more important than the snatch!"

Ginny laughed heartily. She couldn't hide her prideful blush at the thought Harry had been looking at her, and slipped another goal past Ron.

Harry turned the same shade of scarlet as his Seeker's jersey as he got called out for sneaking glances at Ginny as she played her position. Harry had never noticed it before—the way her jersey stretched around her breasts, the teasing way that her cloak fluttered behind her as she flew, flashing intermittent glimpses of her athletic ass straddling her broom…

What a lucky broom it was.

If only there were a spell that Harry could turn his face into that broom. Or the broom into his face. Or by some other magical process get her to straddle his face like she did that shaft.

Never the sort to let a moment of embarrassment slip away quietly, Fred and George, the eldest Weasleys swooped by to add to Harry's embarrassment. Worse yet, he flinched at their approach, having already lost himself in further fantasies about Ginny, brooms and the physical relation between them.

Snatch?

Had he really said that? About his sister? Harry responded without thinking.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Harry shouted, his voice reaching every corner of the three-dimensional play space.

Just as Ginny's third goal of the scrimmage whizzed through the top hoop, Harry's emotional scream halted all other action on the Quiddich Pitch. Even Fred and George couldn't put a light-heated spin on this, Harry had overreacted and it was pretty clear that he had feelings for their sister, who was already spoken for.

Even Ron had to float out of goal to check on Harry. Ron worried if he blushed any further he might have a stroke.

"Mate, I think you might be coming down with a case of Puppy Love," Ron glanced over his shoulder, Angelina was already starting to strap the bludgers down to put an end to practice, "which… I mean… your best mate's sister—"

Ron had intended to say more, but as he turned his head back to Harry he caught a glimpse through the window of the old Divination classroom. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that he saw bodies moving within.

But that couldn't be.

"Leave it, Ron!" with his friend distracted, Harry pulled away sharply and reigned his broom back toward the ground.

Ron was still processing what he had or hadn't seen through the window of the Divination Classroom, when the magically automated process that teleported the quaffle after a goal, back to center pitch and launched it into play, did so.

Ron, being out of position, got snatched up off of his broom and launched some twenty feet in the air by the ball landing squarely under his arm. When he was able to disengage from the quaffle, Ron was in freefall.

He ought to have 'Accio'ed his broom back to him and saved himself, but Ron panicked as he felt himself freefalling backward toward the ground. He couldn't even remember that he was a Wizard.

"Ron!" Harry cried out, already on foot and therefore unable to help his friend.

Fred and George were also too far away.

"Look'it! She's tossin' herself off again," Crabbe giggled as he pointed to Hermione's hand, "Malfoy, I think we missed the mark on that Passivity potion."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Malfoy spat back, sarcastic even in the throes of passion, "go on, this doesn't concern you."

Malfoy lightly slapped Hermione with the back of his hand before grasping the curly hair atop her head and resuming the process of fucking her face. Malfoy didn't really know where Crabbe was going with the remark on their intended potion, but he was approaching his climax, with Granger sucking his cock like a greedy little slut and he didn't much like being interrupted.

"Draco, I think that we may have brewed a Submission Tonic," Crabbe went on.

"Succumnibus Totallis! That was the incantation you used," Goyle remembered, loosening Hermione's crimson and gold tie to slip her collar out from inside of her tie, spreading her blouse open wider and leaving her exposed breast on display for all, squeezing it with both hands as if he were trying to force the last bit of toothpaste out of a wide and supple tube.

"Who cares what it's called? Bloody Brilliant is what I would call it! How much did we use?" Malfoy was gripping Hermione's bangs in his fist, his breathing was becoming ragged.

Crabbe extracted the vial of golden, opaque fluid. It swirled slowly within the glass container, glistening and overlapping. It looked almost completely full.

"Not much."

"This is going to be the best—year—ever!" Malfoy started cumming into Hermione's throat as she had hoped he would, pulling his cock back while shoving her face back so that the next glut of cum splattered from the corner of her mouth to her top eyelashes. The next shot landed on her forehead dripping back down around the side of her nose.

It had been a long while since Malfoy had busted a nut. He wasn't much for dating outside of his increasingly small circle and with all the tumult between his parents lately, emptying his balls had been a forgotten line-item. Because it had been so long, Malfoy came a lot! By the time he was done, Hermione was totally splattered with his cum. It was dripping down from her chin onto her tie.

"Selfish, prick!" Crabbe shouted at Malfoy, "you fucking wrecked her. Now we gotta get your cum all over us if we want some head."

"I couldn't give a fuck less!" Goyle chuckled, releasing Hermione's breast and grasping her shoulders, "I'm going to fuck her pussy."

As Goyle picked Hermione ups from her cushion seat and bent her over it, Draco was giving orders.

"Clean yourself up, Mudblood. You're too disgusting for Crabbe to fuck your face."

Malfoy didn't realize what he was saying, but for Crabbe to fuck her face was an entirely different prospect than Malfoy doing so. Crabbe's cock was a standing twelve and for Hermione to take it deep… she might smother! But Malfoy wasn't thinking about her. Fortunately, Crabbe was.

While Hermione tried to clean her face off, Goyle lowering her soaked panties and shoving his standing ten into her absolutely dripping, little pussy.

"Fuck! She's so tight!" Goyle groaned.

"You know what, I think I want to wait for that pussy."

"I won't come inside her," Goyle promised.

"Thanks mate," Crabbe smiled.

"Fine, just don't take all day. Free period is almost over." Malfoy cautioned them both before making his way over to the tower window to overlook the Quiddich pitch, making sure they hadn't been noticed.

"Holy shit! You've got some good pussy, whore," Goyle sighed, beginning to find his rhythm for his thrusts.

"A Gryffinwhore!" Crabbe laughed.

"That's good. I like that," Draco smirked.

All three laughed over Hermione's new nickname.

Ginny was shocked by Harry's outburst. It did not seem like something a friend would say; more like something a jealous lover would say. But she could hardly believe it because she had crushed on Harry Potter for 5 years now and nothing had ever come of it. She could scarcely believe that at last he was finally noticing her as more than his best friend's little sister.

Ginny blushed lightly, but this was more embarrassing for Harry than her. She watched as Ron floated out of the goal posts to go talk to Harry, telling him to calm down and that he had a case of puppy love. Ginny must have turned as red as her hair.

It seemed all her brothers thought that Harry was infatuated with her, but still Ginny could not believe it as Harry had never acted in such a way before. Though the way he had shouted "Don't talk about her like that!" had sounded more like a lover than a friend, she did not want to get her hopes up.

Ginny was left thinking about Harry; pondering whether he had finally noticed her as a possible romantic prospect. She knew her family would often joke about her and Harry getting together. If the Boy Who Lived wasn't good enough for their daughter, who would be?

She was distracted from her thoughts by Harry's harsh shout and the sight of her brother suddenly free falling from his broom. She gasped and dove towards him immediately, quick to act. Ginny captured Ron just meters above the quidditch pitch, straining her arm in the process, but it was nothing major. Ron was not a light wizard. Despite his lankiness; he was nearly 6 ft tall and growing more muscular. "Shit!" She gasped as she collapsed onto the ground with him.

Both Weasleys seemed paralyzed for a moment before Ron scrambled to his feet and Ginny rose a moment later, wincing at the pain in her arm.

"Ron, you prat! You've got to be more careful!" She scolded her elder brother, rubbing her forearm wearily.

Ron looked like he was going to argue but then thought better of it; his little sister had just saved him at least a few nights in the hospital wing, after all.

"Thanks, Ginny," he said sheepishly, before wandering off to talk with Harry, Fred, and George.

Ginny exchanged an embarrassed look with Harry before hastening off to the showers after Katie and Angelina, but the atmosphere was no less awkward. As Ginny entered one of the showers, she could hear Angelina sigh audibly from the one adjacent. Seemingly unable to keep her thoughts to herself any longer she exclaimed. "Ginny you've got to do something about Harry! He's way too obsessed with you and it's really to the detriment of our team. This is my last year at Hogwarts and I'd really like to see Gryffindor secure the victory here!

"It's not my fault he's distracted!" Ginny argued, scrubbing shampoo into her ginger hair furiously. "I'm fulfilling my part on the team despite my crush on him so he should–"

"Whoa whoa!" Ginny heard the shower turn off as Angelina gave Ginny her full attention. "Crush on Harry? Should I tell Dean about this?"

Ginny almost slipped on the falling soap suds. "No! I just mean… you know… earlier when I had a crush on him I was still able to function, so if, and I mean IF, he likes me all of a sudden, he should be able to play Quidditch just fine.

Though she could not see Angelina outside the shower, she just knew the older girl to be rolling her eyes when she replied. "Perhaps if you two would just get together already we wouldn't have to deal with all these distractions."

Ginny didn't respond, and thankfully, Angelina didn't wait for one. A few seconds later she heard the captain leave the locker room with Katie in tow.

Ginny took her time with the rest of her shower, lingering in the hot water and watching the soap suds swirl down the drain. She was delaying the inevitable of course; she owed Dean a blowjob, at the very least, for all her teasing and promises earlier.

As she stepped out of the shower and examined her clothes, a naughty thought occurred to her. She put on her panties, but hesitated in adorning any other clothes. Before she lost her nerve she stuffed the remainder of her clothes into her bag. She pulled her Hogwarts robes over head then left the locker rooms, already feeling a thrill at the breeze that teased between her bare legs. This would certainly surprise Dean.

As she rounded the corner to leave the locker room, she banged smack into Harry, emerging from the boys locker rooms at precisely the same time. Had he been lingering in the showers too? Had he been…? Ginny felt a rush of glee but instantly scolded herself, Don't flatter yourself. The youngest Weasley righted herself quickly and took a few steps back, putting some much needed space between them.

"Hi," Ginny said lamely. Her heart started racing and her nipples grew hard under her robes, but they were probably too bulky for Harry to notice.

Hemioned moaned around Draco's cock as her fingers played between her legs. She was beyond any feelings of shame as she gave her body to the three Slytherin men. Deep down, she felt like something wasn't right, but that nagging feeling was weak and nothing compared to her urgent arousal and desire to please. The mandrake essence submission potion was in full effect, causing the bushy haired beauty to eagerly submit to her three peers.

Briefly, her mind registered their discussion about the Passivity potion, but as soon as Malfoy told her it didn't concern her and slapped her face lightly, Hermione felt compelled to obey him and determinedly focused her mind elsewhere. It was not hard to do so with such a beautiful cock in her mouth. Hermione swirled her tongue around the tip of Draco's cock while he repositioned, gripping her by the hair tighter. She heard the gruffness in his voice that told her he was close. "Mmm," Hermione moaned in excitement, fingers pressing down with just a bit more force on her clit.

Goyle released her breasts from her blouse and squeezed them greedily as Hermione moaned around Draco's cock. Goyle's hands were rough, and he fondled her tits like they were stress balls. It wasn't exactly pleasant.

Deep down inside, she realized something was wrong, especially when Crabbe flashed a small vial she spotted out of the corner of her eye, but then Malfoy started cumming. While the first few blasts of sour Slytherin spunk slid down her throat, he aimed the rest at her face. The next shot connected her long eyelashes to the corner of her mouth, the one after almost got in her nose as it dripped down from her forehead.

The cum just kept on exploding from the tip of his cock. Hermione held her mouth open, eager to swallow more of it. Draco, however, seemed more content coating her entire face in cum than letting her swallow it. Hermione did her best to lap up the cum surrounding her mouth. So much of it landed on her cheeks, her neck, her bushy mane. Draco's cum dripped from her chin to her tie, soiling her uniform. It was like Draco hadn't cum for weeks and he was unleashing it all upon her in a torrential display, but though mandrake essence influenced Hermione lavished in his sticky spunk, not everyone was happy about Malfoy's excess cum.

"Selfish, prick!" Crabbe shouted at Malfoy, "you fucking wrecked her. Now we gotta get your cum all over us if we want some head."

Hermione didn't agree that she was "wrecked", but she supposed she could see how a man may think so. Probably some instinctual thing.

Goyle had a solution though - fuck her pussy instead!

He yanked her up by her shoulders and bent her over forcefully. Even with the mandrake essence potion Hermione still felt a great sense of desire mixed with dread wash over her as she felt the massive girth of his cock against her back side.

Another tendril of fear blossomed within her when Draco told Crabbe to fuck her throat. It was illogical to think he could possibly fit that giant cock down her throat. Nevertheless, she wiped her face hastily preparing for any intrusion, but thankfully Crabbe would be more thoughtful than Malfoy, surprisingly.

While Hermione wiped her face and mouth of Draco's cum, Goyle pulled her panties down. As Goyle began to push inside her wet, eager pussy, Hermioned cried out with pleasure at the forceful intrusion. Fuck! He just kept pressing deeper! His grotesque member really did feel absolutely amazing inside. If Goyle had waited much longer she may have humiliated herself by grinding her ass against him impatiently. Hermione ached to be filled with cock, any cock, even one as misshapen as Goyle's.

"Oh my God!" she cried out, fingers strumming her clit faster. She kept moaning, she couldn't help it, it felt so good!

"Fuck! She's so tight!" Goyle groaned.

He was right, she was tight. Not quite a virgin, but close. She'd lost her virginity last summer to Krum a few months before they broke up. She didn't regret it, and in the aftermath of this moment she'd be even more grateful her first time was with a Bulgarian Quidditch player and not Gregory Goyle!

Yet in this moment the mudblood kept crying out in pleasure, unable to stop herself. She could not keep quiet; it felt too painful and wonderful all at once. As Goyle raped her pussy, he seemed to enjoy it so much it convinced Crabbe to spare her throat and hold out for her pussy instead.

She felt so full, but it wasn't enough. Hermione rubbed her fingertips on her clit frantically, desperate to come. Vaguely she registered their conversion, her new nickname, them laughing at her expense, but she couldn't care less as the potion and Goyle's cock kept her more than complacent.

"Harder! Please, fuck me harder!" The Gryffinwhore cried out, pushing her ass back into Goyle. His balls slapped against her while his cock split her open, and she loved every minute of it. Hermione spread her legs wider to accommodate him as he began fucking her harder; she wanted him as deep as he could go.

Harry quickly reigned back on the front of his broom, suddenly moving backward and downward in a spiral until he was able to hop off of his broom and land jogging. He rushed over to help Ron. He'd seen how Ginny landed and was concerned for her arm, but Ron was humiliated and needed reassuring—not to mention a shoulder to lean on.

Practice broke on that rather dour note and everyone made their way back to the locker rooms. Though Ron was wounded both in body and spirit, Fred and George were not about to let Harry's attention to their sister slide.

Neither was Dean—who had watched the entire scene unfold from his place on the bench.

"You better be careful Harry," Fred cautioned, landing on Ron's other side to aide in helping him into the locker room, George landed on the other side of Harry to finish the thought, "Dean looks like he might want to fight you, mate."

The elder Weasley twins took over the support of their clumsiest sibling, leaving Harry just in time to be shoved by Dean into the tile mosaic wall depicting a mermaid—who quickly swam to the other side of the wall after Harry was slammed against it.

"You got a thing for my girl, Potter? Don't think because we're in the same house I won't punch your daylights out." Dean was taller than Harry and large enough to push him around.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dean. Everybody's got a [i]thing[/i] for your girl."

"Not everyone," Fred and George said in unison.

"She's the hottest girl in her grade—that's why you're dating her. Even though she's a year younger." Harry went on, "she and I grew up together, we're like family. That's all. I'm not interested in her like that. Not really. It's more like… admiration."

"Yeah, well…" Dean was considering this, "I guess you get to live again, but I'll be watching you. If you step one toe out of line I'll balance you out with some new scars."

"Ohhh," Ron mocked Dean, wiggling his fingers at him like a cartoon ghost, implying that his threat wasn't quite as threatening as it was intended to be.

Not appreciating being mocked by the biggest turd in the quidditch starting lineup—even if it was his girlfriend's brother, Dean reached back and lunged at Ron like he was about to swing. Ron flinched himself all the way to the floor. Dean laughed.

"Look all you want, Potter—just don't touch. She's mine to stroke and pet," Dean flashed a smirk at the eldest Weasley twins who were growing increasingly tense in their own right, "keep your hands to yourself."

Dean left the locker-room still in his uniform. Having spent practice on the bench, he had no need of a shower. He went off to look for his girlfriend.

The rest of the team showered in a kind of awkward silence, none quite ready to discuss what had occurred.

When Harry was dressed again, he was eager to get back to his room. As dear friends as they were to him, he was getting quite enough of the Weasleys for one day. He didn't even think of Ginny like that. Not really. Hearing himself repeating the argument internally made it even more difficult to believe. Maybe he was lying to himself—

As if his thoughts could conjure her, Ginny suddenly appeared, in some sort of hurry as she came around the corner. Harry was barely able to prevent her from knocking him over by wrapping his arms around her. For some reason, her frame felt different against him—narrower and firmer. There also seemed to be a pair of gobstones or other small, hard objects pressing against his chest until Harry took a respectful step back.

"Ginny! Hi," Harry didn't expect her to answer, Ginny seemed to be in a constant state of paralytic shock any time she saw him. Growing up, she would just open her wide, blue eyes so big that it seemed like they might engulf her entire face and then just run away without a word, "is your arm alright? It looked like you might have landed on it…"

One hand gently grasped the back of Ginny's wrist, while his other hand moved higher on her inner arm. He was trying to feel her elbow and upper arm, seeing if she had any swelling—but his more clinical concerns vanished as the back of his hand passed gently over the bust of her Gryffindor robe. Though it was only the back of his hand and his wrist, Harry could tell that she didn't have gobstones under her robe—those were her naked breasts, her erect nipples, poking through the heavy, black fabric of her robe.

Harry recoiled suddenly as if he'd been burned.

"I—um… you seem alright," Harry blushed hard and rushed through an awkward half-hug, avoiding letting her chest touch him again.

He tugged the front of his sweater vest forward, a poor attempt at disguising his sudden and obvious erection. Harry rushed past and in the opposite direction, just before Dean arrived, giving Ginny a deep, French kiss when he saw her.

"Hey babe," Dean smiled, his eyes firmly trained on her chest—though he hadn't yet noticed that she was naked under her robe, "I found us a great spot. Come with me."

Privacy was one thing in Hogwarts that was in short supply. Shared dorms, peeping paintings and ghosts who had a habit of bursting through walls and floors without any regard and they all loved good gossip.

Dean led Ginny by the hand, laughing as he ran with his girlfriend to a spot near the broom flying yard. Just under the stone steps that led up to Instructor Hooch's office, there was a small, mostly hidden doorway that led into the Quiddich equipment closet. Dean just happened to have a key.

Unlike Ginny, who was likely quite sore and exhausted from practicing with the starters, Dean was full of energy from sitting on the bench, imagining what Ginny had in store for him.

The room was dark and smelled of old sweat. Stacks of leather pads and crates of balls—banners from each of the houses and stacks of beaters filled all but a central pathway that led into the dead-end room.

Dean pushed Ginny against the nearest wall after he'd locked them inside and kissed her deeply. His hand moved quickly to her chest and grasped one of her firm, perky breasts. His palm could feel her erect nipple pushing against her robe.

"I've been waiting all day for this," Dean sighed as the kiss broke, "are you…"

Dean released her breast and took a step back, admiring her figure in the low light, his smile spreading across his face as he realized what she was—or rather, what she wasn't wearing. And it was all for him.

"Harder! Please, fuck me harder!"

Hermione was screaming at the top of her lungs as Goyle finished stuffing his thick cock inside of her warm, wet pussy, but he didn't care. He was loving it! With one hand tangled in her hair, tugging her back into his thrusts and the other wrapped under her arm to squeeze her exposed breast, Goyle was hilting himself inside of her again and again.

"She's screaming her head off!" Draco interjected, looking nervously toward the door, "she'll bring every ghost in the tower 'round!"

"Can't you gag her with something?" Crabbe, who was already stroking his own huge, uncircumcised cock in preparation for his turn with the Gryffinwhore.

"I know!" Malfoy had a glimmer of genius cross his face as he grabbed her scarlet and gold tie, balling it up without reverence and shoving the bundle into her open, screaming mouth, "that should do it!"

Draco used the handle of his wand to stuff Hermione's tie deeper into her mouth as Goyle bottomed out inside her again and held her fast against her, his hips pushing while he pulled her in the opposite direction, keeping himself stuffed inside as deep as he could possibly go. His fingers squeezed her breast tighter still as he moved his hips around in a circle—rather than back and forth as he had been doing previously.

This new technique kept her firm, round ass pressed firmly into his lap while his cock twisted and turned inside of her, the curve in it making its turning and writhing somewhat unpredictable. He released her exposed breast to reach back and spank her ass hard.

"You love it, you fucking slut!" Goyle groaned, feeling his limit approaching, "cum for me, mudblood! Feed me your dirty, muggle-born climax! I'm almost there you whore."

"Do it, you slut!" Crabbe joined in the taunting.

"I'll make sure no one is coming," Draco was becoming worried that someone might notice their absence, so he went to the door, peeking out to see if anyone was climbing the moving stairs in their direction.

Perhaps it was that hero instinct Hermione had mentioned that made it so Harry stopped Ginny from falling by holding her body close to his, or perhaps it was something more… Either way the embrace (if you could call it that) lasted both far too long and too short in Ginny's opinion. She wanted him to hold her all night, but knew it was imperative they pull away before her wild instincts got the better of her and she acted like the slut half the school was already convinced she was.

"Ginny! Hi," Harry said. "Is your arm alright? It looked like you might have landed on it…"

Ginny was going to answer, really she was; she was not the doe-eyed, infatuated young girl she'd been when she'd first met Harry Potter, but then Harry had reached out to assess her doing so he brushed the back of his hand against her breast, her breast covered by her schoolrobe and nothing else. Ginny gasped at the brief contact and Harry jerked his hand away like she was made of fire.

"I—um… you seem alright," Harry blushed hard. He hugged her again, this time only partially, avoiding full contact, because she was Ron's little sister, a trusted ally and friend, nothing more.

But one glance down at the bulge in his trousers said otherwise. It was impossible to tell who was blushing more furiously as Harry hurried away.

Ginny had barely a moment to revel in that encounter before her boyfriend appeared. Now her arousal and embarrassment were combined with a big whooping for guilt, even though she hadn't technically done anything wrong, she felt guilty for her thoughts, her hopes, because she knew if Harry had kissed her right then she would have pulled him into the showers and…

Dean's lips captured hers and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, scattering her thoughts. When he pulled back he was grinning at her like a puppy, eyes glued to her tits. He told her he found a great spot and led her by the hand in the opposite direction Harry had gone, laughing periodically. Ginny did her best to share in his good spirits. Of course he was gleeful, he was about to get blown, while Ginny's limbs were aching from the intense practice and heroic rescue of her brother.

At first Ginny thought Dean meant to hookup with her in Madam Hooch's office, of all places, but thankfully he diverted them to the small Quidditch equipment closet instead. It wasn't very big, but it was private, and Ginny was honestly impressed that Dean had somehow swiped the key. She was about to ask him how when he shut and locked the door behind them and pushed her against the nearest wall.

Dean kissed her and started feeling her up almost immediately. Ginny moaned softly into his mouth as his hand cupped her breast, palm rubbing up against her erect nipple. It took but mere moments of kissing and fondling for Dean to discover Ginny's secret.

"I've been waiting all day for this," Dean sighed as the kiss broke, "are you…"

Her boyfriend took a step back and grinned, realization dawning on his face.

With a mischievous smile and flushed cheeks, Ginny yanked her robes over her head, showing Dean her naked body in full for the first time. The freckles on her face extended down to her shoulders and upper breasts. Her long, fiery red hair cascaded down and played with her hard, pale pink nipples. She had an athletic and toned body, but it was still soft and curvy. Ginny was blessed with an hourglass figure and perky, bouncy tits that had really grown another size over the summer. The planes of her toned stomach led to a small patch of fiery red curls covering her virgin heat. Her legs were long and equally as toned as her stomach. Ginny felt a dash of insecurity, having never shown anyone her body like this, but she pushed the feeling aside fairly easily. Ginny knew she looked good and she had a great deal of self-confidence. She stepped forward and grasped Dean by the shoulders, flipping their position so he was the one against the wall.

"Now before you get too excited, I'm not ready to fuck you yet, but I'm ready to do anything else you'd like…" Ginny said seductively as she got on her knees in front of him. Gazing up at him with her big brown eyes, Ginny reached for his pants. Dean was more than willing to help her remove them.

"I thought you'd like my little secret. I didn't want to put my panties back on after showering, so I figured I'd just go without. You wouldn't believe the state of my broom after practice, drenched from me riding it, thinking about riding your fingers instead."

She took his cock, already semi-hard from her teasing, in hand as she flattered him. She was lying of course; she hadn't given him a single thought all practice, hadn't even realized he'd been in the stands waiting for his chance to play as a second string member of the Quidditch team, but she knew he liked dirty talk. He liked to hear her describe how much she wanted him, exaggerated though it was.

Dean's cock grew fully erect fast thanks to her small hand stroking him up and down. The other fondled his balls, trying to cup them both. She gazed up at him lustfully.

"Your cock is so big Dean, I swear you must've cast an engorgio charm," she joked, sounding a little breathless. Her lips spoke into the tip of his cock like a microphone, her warm breath and soft tongue tantalizing him.

Ginny said all this more for his benefit than hers. In all honesty she'd prefer a smaller cock to ride when she lost her virginity; Dean's was a bit much for a first time.

It was fun to suck though. Looking up into his eyes, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock as she pumped the shaft rhythmically up and down. A soft moan escaped her lips as she began to suck his cock in earnest, taking him a bit deeper into her mouth each time. Ginny wasn't an expert at this but seemed to be a natural, for both her ex Michael Corner and now Dean could not seem to get enough of her mouth. When Dean's cock hit the back of her mouth, threatening to push down into her throat, Ginny made a lewd gagging sound, but kept pushing herself to take more of him.

Her pussy really was dripping at this point. She squeezed her thighs together, wishing she had something between them. For all the blowjobs he asked for Dean didn't reciprocate nearly as much. Ginny decided now was the time to change that. They were safely hidden away and had room to lie down, which was a rare opportunity she wanted to take advantage of.

Ginny popped off the head of his cock, a string of saliva hanging from her lips connecting her to it. She smiled and looked up at him with her beautiful brown eyes,

"I want to try something. Lay down," Ginny ordered, gesturing to her robes that were strewn out on the floor.

Dean did not have to be told twice. He practically fell to the ground, huge cock bouncing rather comically as he did so. He pulled his robes overhead and bundled them under his head as a makeshift pillow.

Ginny looked down at her boyfriend, drinking him in. He really was handsome. His body was muscular and strong, his features attractive, expression awash in excited anticipation.

Ginny kneeled down over him, but didn't face him. Instead, her breasts pressed against his lower abdomen and her pussy hovered over his face. It would be up to her boyfriend to decide what he did with her in this position. She didn't say anything as she took his cock back into her mouth. The angle made it easier to take him deeper, so things got even messier as Ginny fucked her own face with Dean's huge cock. She used all the excess saliva to aid her in jerking off the lower half of his cock while she sucked on the rest of it, challenging herself to take him deeper each time she slurped her way down his cock.

Hermione's bushy mane became even more wild as Goyle buried his fist inside her hair to pull her back into each of his thrusts. His other hand squeezed her breast roughly, stubby fingers digging into her flesh. His balls slapped her ass while his stomach pressed into her lower back as he bent over her. He was panting harshly in her ear, lost to pleasure within the Gryffinwhore.

In a very un-Hermione fashion, she too was unaware of anything other than pleasure at the moment. Draco and Crabbe's conversation to shut her up went completely unnoticed as Goyle pounded into her. She ground her hips back into him, crying out in desperate pleasure each time he bottomed out inside her silken depths.

"Oh yes! Yes! Har-" Before she could get any more words out Malfoy had stuffed her own uniform tie into her mouth. Hermione gagged slightly as Draco pushed it further with his wand to stifle her screams. It was a good thing he did too, because Goyle's next thrust struck her particularly deep, causing Hermione to positively scream in pained pleasure into her gold and red tie.

Goyle was so incredibly deep and stretching her fully. For being a tubby guy he certainly had stamina. He held so tightly that under normal circumstances Hermione would have feared he'd snap her neck by holding her head back by her hair so severely or injure her breast with how much force he was using. He moved his hips in a steady circle, causing her to feel every inch of his hard, uniquely shaped cock inside her. Her hand faltered on her clit from the forcefulness of his thrusts so she could use it to better steady herself instead. Goyle was hitting her from deep within now, drawing out a different but equally debilitating pleasure.

"Mmph! Mmmph!" Hermione moaned, muffled by her tie.

Goyle released her breast to spank her ass. Her ass rippled from the contact and he left a red mark. Her breast joined the other in swinging in response to his circular deep thrusts. Hermione screamed as she felt a pleasure from deep within building, accelerating, building exponentially it seemed. Tears sprung to her eyes as it built; the feelings of pleasure intense; it was too, too much.

"You love it, you fucking slut! Cum for me, mudblood! Feed me your dirty, muggle-born climax! I'm almost there you whore," Goyle ordered.

Hermione was helpless but to obey, her climax was fast approaching like a freight train, whether she was ready or not, and Goyle's words only accelerated it.

"Do it, you slut!" Crabbe taunted. He was rubbing his own cock as he watched the display, waiting eagerly for his turn.

"MMMMPH!" Hermione screamed into her tie as finally the floodgates opened and the seemingly never ending pleasure peaked and exploded. Hermione saw stars behind her eyelids as she came hard and long; Goyle having given her her first vaginal orgasm. Her inner walls clenched around his cock over and over, milking him, seeking his cum. Her orgasm was powerful enough for Hermione to drop to the floor, arms having given out at the force of her pleasure.

Luna was on one of her usual walks about the castle, taking an unnecessarily long and winding path back to Ravenclaw tower after a late lunch. She took longer routes often, not always intentionally. Sometimes she got so lost in her thoughts her feet seemed to have a direction of their own. To most, this behavior seemed spacey, but it was the mark of a Ravenclaw to get lost in one's own mind.

On this particular day her route back to the Ravenclaw common room would be a bit more exciting than usual. She heard what she thought sounded like the cry of a wild animal as she rounded an empty corridor.

Luna was quite unflappable about most things, and always faced situations head on, so when she saw Malfoy's slick blond head poking out of an unused classroom, she did not even hesitate to approach him. They locked eyes and his immediately widened. He looked slightly panicked. The cries grew louder for a moment then deafened when Draco shut the door. Luna looked at him suspiciously.

"Hello," Luna said, pleasantly enough. "What have you got in there?"

She quirked her head curiously at him, causing her radish earrings to swing lightly. Her voice sounded less airy than usual as she had her guard up. Though they'd barely spoken, she knew Draco Malfoy all too well from the fiasco with Umbridge at the end of last year.

Before Malfoy could answer, a strange, muffled cry resounded from the closed door.

Luna suddenly brightened. Now that she was closer she thought she recognized that cry. "Did you find a Blibbering Humdinger in there?" she asked Malofy excitedly, blue eyes twinkling. "I thought I heard one when I walked through this corridor the other day…"

Dean's jaw nearly hit the floor when Ginny revealed that she was naked under her cloak. Her body was amazing. She was fit and toned from playing quiddich at such a high level and yet she was round and soft in all the right places. An hourglass figure just begging to be touched, pale skin flecked with golden freckles. Truthfully, Dean was only really with Ginny for her body—he despised her siblings, felt emasculated by the fact that she was a starter on the quidditch team while he was just an alternate and worst of all, Dean was pretty sure that she had a crush on the school celebrity Harry Potter. None of that mattered when her naked body was revealed to him. He wanted to feel every inch of her at once!

But again, she was back on her back-and-forth bullshit.

She was naked under her robes like a degenerate slut, but she still didn't want to fuck him? Moreover, he scarcely got his hands on her before she took charge and pushed him against the wall. Before he even got a chance to object to her terms, she was enthusiastically sucking his cock. Dean groaned, his hand gently cupping the back of her head as she gagged herself on his knob again and again.

"Oh shit… ohh Merlin's stockings, that's good!" Dean groaned.

Ginny also gave amazing head, despite her inexperience in other sexual realms, her hot, eager little mouth was very advanced. He couldn't help but wonder about how and why she was so skilled as a cocksucker despite being a virgin.

Again, just as Dean was starting to enjoy himself—he had the rug pulled out from him again. Suddenly he had a job to do and Ginny wasn't shy about basically cuddle-tackling him to the ground. Holy hell she was strong! Dean landed in a pile of cracked, leather quidditch pads and had his face mounted like he was her broom!

She really was wishing that it was him she was riding!

"Muomfffghhh! Mm-uhu-huh!" Dean tried to object, but his mouth was full.

Any further objection Dean might have had vanished somewhere near the back of Ginny's throat as she resumed sucking his cock. From one moment to the next Dean couldn't tell if his girlfriend was charmingly innocent or intimidatingly dominant and it made his head spin. In the end, he only had one option—to open up wide and plunge his tongue deep.

Dean actually had quite a bit of sexual experience for a Hogwart's student. He'd been sexually active for years and had even hooked up with an older muggle girl over the summer who was studying in muggle college—she taught him some things. Dean knew how to eat a pussy—but he'd never tried to do so at this angle.

It was like all of the controls were backwards and upside down—and sitting on his face. His tongue was thrashing like mad but much of it was defensive. His hands were gripping her ass cheeks, squeezing tightly, trying to lift her off of his face but only succeeding in pulling her closer.

Dean's distress didn't hinder Ginny's sucking of his cock and as he got closer to the finish line, his heels dug into the floor and his hips thrust upward reflexively. He leaned forward like he was doing a sit-up, pulling her pussy even more enthusiastically against his face and shook his head back and forth between her legs.

He was going to make this nubile sex demon cum even if it killed him—which it might, as he was getting light-headed but made his mind up not to come up for air until both of them got off. He was already staring…

"Oh my God! She—she's squeezing me!" Goyle cried out, equal parts delighted and terrified by the spectacle of Hermione's internal climax, "I can't pull out!"

"Cool…" Crabbe was purely delighted, watching Hermione buck hard before collapsing and his friend getting his cock milked inside of her

"Quiet down!" Malfoy chastised, "someone's coming!"

Malfoy went outside to intercept their would-be intruder while Goyle managed to get his cock out as he was already in the midst of his first spurt. He groaned as he finished tugging himself off, ejaculating a huge bounty of thick, milky ball-snot onto Hermione's ass, inner thighs and the inside of her pleated skirt.

"I see you managed to wrestle it out of there," Crabbe smirked, he was being sarcastic and for once he had a point. Goyle was being over-dramatic.

"I think I might have gotten some inside…" Goyle was sweating profusely, breathing hard as he'd fallen back onto his butt.

"So what?"

"Wh-what if she gets pregnant?"

"Obliviate should take care of that."

"Does it?"

Crabbe shrugged. He was genuinely uncertain.

"It scrubs people from old photos, it ought to un-bun her oven. Even muggles can do that. Now get out of the way. It's my turn, I waited 'til last. I'm going to take my time. C'mon, slut. Stand up." Crabbe was almost gentle as he picked Hermione up from the ground.

The stocky young man carried her over to one of the high-backed armchairs that were arranged around the perimeter of the room. Crabbe didn't know much about sex, but he'd stayed with an old aunt one summer who bullied him, so he understood humiliation and dominance.

Crabbe's fingers slid along her scalp, under the roil of her mane of curly, chestnut hair. His thumb pushed into her mouth, stuffing the gag of her tie deeper into her mouth. He locked eyes with her, kicking the inside of her shoes to make her spread her legs, lowering her onto his thick, wide cock.

"That's right, slut. I'm going to make you love it. I'm going to make you love it so much that even when you pass me in the halls, your body will remember and you'll get wet."

Crabbe was used to being the last one up. It was his role in the gang. He was the lowest ranking sidekick. People hardly noticed him when he wasn't with Draco—but he was unimpeded by the presence of his friends' cum. He was going to make the most of this.

Crabbe had barely gotten the crown of his wide, red cockhead inside of her before he halted her descent.

"Tell me you want it. I want you to admit it," Crabbe smiled deviously, holding her aloft as he reached out to pinch her exposed nipple between two knuckles.

Malfoy slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, doing a less-than-perfect job of muffling the sounds coming from behind it. It was the last thing he needed—Loony Lovegood wandering up the stairs toward him. She engaged in polite and cheerful conversation, as she seemed to do always—regardless of what (if any) company she was sharing.

"No, no. It's nothing!" Draco snapped, his first impulse being anger, but he realized that Loony was immune to his intimidation—space cadet that she was, he quickly thought up a better lie, "it's a boggart! It escaped from the dark arts classroom and Snape sent us Slytherins to go apprehend it."

More noise came from behind the door.

"And I think Crabbe is afraid of being cheated on… that's why it sounds like that. But it's not whatever you said."

The noise behind the door seemed to be continuing, so Draco placed his arm around Loony's shoulders, leading her away.

"Were you on your way back to your dorms? I'll walk you. Is it true that you can take off on your brooms from a rooftop lounge in the Ravenclaw common room?"

When Dean didn't immediately dive in between her legs it dashed her confidence a bit. Here she was trying to be sexy and unpredictable, but it was clear he was having trouble keeping up. Ginny wiggled her hips impatiently. Soon enough, Dean swept his tongue inside her folds in earnest and grasped her asscheeks tight. He gripped hard enough to cause a low whine to escape from Ginny's throat.

At first, it didn't feel as good as she'd expected it to. Maybe it was harder upside down. It all felt very clumsy and rather sloberry. His tongue desperately thrashed against her, but not in any consistent way. It was also hard to concentrate on her own pleasure no matter how enthusiastic Dean was lapping at her, because sucking cock took a good deal of concentration.

Sure, if you wanted to be lazy about it it didn't take much concentration, if you wanted to just be a gaping hole for a guy to fuck. But Ginny liked to really worship a cock, lavish it with long swipes of the tongue and wet kisses. She bobbed on the top of Dean's cock, tongue snaking round his cock and slurping at him. Both hands were wrapped around the base of his cock, using the spit that trickled down from her lips to lubricate his cock as she stroked him up and down.

Ginny took as much of him as she could into her mouth again and again, relishing the feeling of his hardness in her mouth, the smell of him, and the twitches of his hips. She knew he was close when he thrust up all of a sudden. Ginny choked, the sound only turning him on further.

Dean's hands squeezed her ass and he pulled her pussy harder against his mouth as he leaned up. He didn't fuck her throat, but his sudden thrust had forced him to slip deeper. If Ginny had thought she'd been deep throating before, now she felt naive! Now not only was he stretching her mouth impossibly wide, but he was pushing the limits of her slender throat.

The youngest Weasley's eyes watered as she gagged on his cock. She couldn't gasp for breath, but managed to suck air through the corner of her mouth. More slobber rained down upon his cock, aiding her hands in stroking him. She pumped the base of his cock more enthusiastically and did her best to keep sucking him even as his thursts grew more sporadic and wild.

As strong willed and stubborn as she was, being submissive sexually really turned her on, so the way Dean was forcing his cock deeper down her throat with each thrust had her writhing her hips against his face. Dean was eager to eat her up, lapping at her pussy with incredible enthusiasm now, clearly on a mission.

Ginny's throaty moan reverberated around his cock as she felt her pleasure start to build at last. With Dean taking control of the throat fuck, she didn't have to concentrate as much, and she suddenly saw the appeal of being a simple gaping hole from time to time. Her pussy began to flutter against his face as Dean lapped at her clit, pushing her closer and closer. He ate her out like a man starved.

Fuck! Yes, yes! she thought, would have screamed out had her mouth not been stuffed full of cock. She felt herself start to peak and she lost all semblance of control. Now she was the one whose hips bucked against his face as she came, raining down some light girl spunk down onto his face. She couldn't imagine Dean would mind.

Hermione knelt on the floor of the deserted classroom, limbs shaking as her pussy continued to clench around nothing. It had been quite unfortunate when Goyle had pulled out, quite unfortunate indeed. She'd like how it had felt clenching around his hard, thick cock, now she just felt empty, small aftershocks squeezing around nothing.

Hermione moaned feebly into her tie and closed her eyes in an attempt to make the feeling last longer. A moment later, however, her eyes flashed open again as she felt warm, sticky fluid hit her ass and the back of her thighs and staining her uniform skirt.

Vaguely, some other Hermione, the repressed, intelligent part, heard the words "pregnant" and "obliviate", but then Crabbe ordered her to stand up and he was pulling her to her feet. His hands felt welcome on her body as he carried her over to an armchair and sat down upon it, settling her astride him.

Crabbe ran his stubby fingers through her hair then pressed his thumb to her mouth, stuffing her Gryffindor tie further into her mouth. Hermiong gagged slightly around the fabric. He locked eyes with her, and looking into his face seemed very wrong somehow, but then he was shoving the head of his cock inside her and the feeling of unease disappeared at once.

"That's right, slut. I'm going to make you love it. I'm going to make you love it so much that even when you pass me in the halls, your body will remember and you'll get wet."

"Mmmph…" Hermione groaned, whether in agreement or protest, one could not be certain. But his words turned her on, and her pussy fluttered briefly around the tip of his cockhead in response. Her body was beckoning him inside.

"Tell me you want it. I want you to admit it," Crabbe smiled deviously.

How could she beg, gagged like this? He must want her to tell him with her body. Hermione moaned loudly into her tie, a small hitch in the sound when he pinched her nipple. Hermione's soft, cum-covered thighs trembled over him, desperately trying to lower herself on his massive cockhead, but Crabbe held her hips hard, preventing her from moving. Tears sprung to her eyes from her desperation. She needed more! Her brown eyes met Crabbe's, pleading.

Hermione fluttered around the massive crown of his cockhead as if begging as well. She squeezed the tip of his cock over and over, a promise of tight, warm, wet heat. She may be drugged to be pliant and horny, but she was still clever. It would not take long before Crabbe allowed her to sink her body down onto him, she just knew it. Surely he could not resist this temptation for long.

Luna heard the anger in Draco's voice at first and thought he was going to tell her off, but then he shared with her what was in the classroom, an escaped boggart. She was suspicious of this story, but she humored him.

"Oh," Luna said simply, "I didn't know Crabbe was seeing anyone."

Anyone other than Luna would not have bought this story, as no one would willingly go out with Crabbe.

Malofy suddenly draped his arm around her shoulders and tried to usher her along. His arm felt cold and foreign around her shoulders, but not entirely unwelcome. He asked her about the Ravenclaw tower roof but Luna did not answer him. She began walking with him, but instead spoke as if he hadn't said anything at all.

"I can tell you're lying, but that's all right. You don't have to tell me what you're hiding in that classroom. I have a feeling I'll find out eventually," she said dreamily. What she didn't say was that Harry would be finding out about this strange encounter. Luna was loyal to Harry and Dumbledore's Army, even if they no longer held regular meetings. She very much missed those meetings, those few, wonderful months of being part of something, having friends…

Speaking of friends, Luna shuffled out of Malfoy's grasp, as she knew the arm he'd wrapped around her was but an empty gesture, and not one of true friendship.

"So you can stop pretending to be friendly now. I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to see you with me, especially any of your Slytherin friends." She'd stopped their walk before they'd left the original corridor. Faint sounds of what could be a Blibbering Humdinger could still be heard from the locked classroom.

"Pretending? Wait, I'm not—" Malfoy caught himself before saying too much.

It was true that being seen in the company of "Loony" Luna Lovegood was socially detrimental, but truthfully, Draco didn't really think of her as the raving maniac that most of his classmates saw. What most considered to be a morbid obsession with rare and malignant magical creatures, Draco saw as an affinity for the Dark Arts. Draco himself was something of a student of the Dark Arts, his mother and father both serving as Death Eaters during the last reign of Lord Voldemort before turning back to the Ministry.

There were rumors that the Malfoys—even Draco himself still held loyalty toward the Dark Lord, but only Draco knew for certain how much truth was behind those rumors. Thestrals, Wrackspurts and Blibbering Humdingers weren't listed in the glossary of magical creatures—but that didn't mean they weren't real.

What most of his peers found disturbing and off-putting about Luna, Draco secretly found it quite charming how she eschewed conventions and stayed true to herself rather than conforming to societal norms or the expectations of her peers.

"No, Crabbe doesn't have a girlfriend—that's why the Boggart's transformation is so odd. It's like an amalgamation of his fears and fantasies—a literal beast with two backs," Draco hoped that thinking outside the box would make his story more believable.

He genuinely didn't want Luna to feel like he was deceiving her.

"You don't have to believe me, but I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you," Draco said at last, raising his chest with the courage of his convictions—for a change, "I have quidditch practice in a little bit, but if you like, we could study together later on tonight. I could use some of your help on the Magical Beasts midterm. If you wanted, I could teach you a curse or two."

The last bit was whispered. Curses were not taught at Hogwarts and were very explicitly forbidden for students.

"That's it. Good slut," Crabbe smiled triumphantly, relishing just a moment more of Hermione's plaintive fluttering of her pussy lips around the head of his cock, "you really are as clever as you think you are sometimes."

Crabbe released her face and her breast at once, bringing both of his pudgy hands down on her thighs with enough force to make a sharp slapping noise—knocking her down onto his thick shaft all at once while he planted his heels and thrust upward with his hips.

Once he hilted inside of her, Crabbe wasted no time in slamming and thrusting in and out of her like a man possessed. Of the three notorious Slytherin boys, Crabbe received the least attention from girls—he was treated like an afterthought in general, even among his own housemates. Snape scarcely noticed him—even when he struggled in potions class. No one ever asked him about himself, what he did over the holidays, anything about his family or anything at all.

The truth was, Crabbe had a crush on Hermione since they had all been first-years. The rivalry developed out of Draco's feud with Harry—and no one considered how Crabbe's feelings might be affected by these ongoing hostilities.

It wasn't even a question of whether he might get first crack at Hermione—or even second. It was just assumed that Crabbe had to live off his friends' leftovers in all things, but right now, it didn't matter.

It didn't matter that Hermione was under the influence of a powerful and most likely illegal—if not "unforgivable" potion.

It didn't matter that both of his mates had already fucked her mouth and pussy.

It didn't matter that they were going to be late for quidditch practice.

It didn't even matter that she was destined not to remember any of it—Crabbe was determined to leave his mark on Hermione's body and mind. Whether consciously or unconsciously, she would bare the mark of his fucking her, even if it took every ounce of strength he had.

His sweaty fingers dug into her thighs and the slapping continued even though his hands were still. Their bodies were slapping against each other with enough force and speed to be heard out in the hallway.

"Take it! Take it, you slut!" one hand peeled away from her thigh to grab hold of her tie which he used like a handle, tugging her down to meet his thrusts and simultaneously extricating it from her mouth.

In truth, Crabbe didn't care if he got caught, just so long as he could leave an impression on Hermione's body and mind that even an Obliviate spell couldn't erase. This might be his only chance to make her his—especially since she and Weasley seemed to be an actual couple these days.

"Take that fucking dick, you bitch!"

"What in the devil is going on in here?" Snape's dour voice cut through the muffled moans and shuffling as Ginny's climax was interrupted by the throwing open of the equipment room door.

For his part, Dean's climax was uninterrupted as he came all over Ginny's face and in her mouth despite the interruption. Part of him was glad for the interruption, as Ginny's sudden glut of girl-cum had frankly grossed him out. She was using him like a sex toy more than she was working with him—despite how good she was at giving head.

It was enough to make him suspect that she had more sexual experience than her reputation suggested. Was he dating a slut?

"Get up this instant! Put your cloaks on and hide your shame!" Snape really sucked the marrow out of that last word, letting it linger on his tongue for longer than Dean did Ginny, "Merlin's beard, what an absolute disgrace! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"Wait! No!" Dean stood up too abruptly, toppling Ginny into the stack of leather pads, the honor of his house more prescient than the honor of his girlfriend, "don't bring the house into this!"

Truthfully, Dean was afraid that the loss of house points would make this shameful moment a topic of public discussion. He scarcely thought about how much worse it would be for Ginny if this little tryst became public knowledge.

"I came in here to get equipment and—wipe your face girl!" without thinking, Snape handed Ginny a Slytherin scarf from his case of quidditch equipment to clean Dean's cum off of her face with.

Though he'd never admit it, Ginny reminded him of Lily when she was young. It was hard to imagine how it would affect her if this event became public knowledge.

"After dinner, meet me in my office. We'll decide then how best to handle the… punitive effects of this indiscretion."

Luna watched as Draco seemed to stand taller after he said he wasn't embarrassed to be seen with her, as if she should be thankful for the fact. Luna did not need any reassurances from anyone, least of all from him. She was quite used to being alone. It was easy to be friendly to Luna when you were alone with her; the trouble always came in larger groups when no one wanted to admit they were the one who invited her along. Things had changed for the better last year with Dumbledore's Army, but without those meetings anymore Luna was back to spending most of her free time at Hogwarts in solitude.

Luna stood, silvery blue eyes wide, waiting for a punchline that never came. She was sure he must be making fun of her… but when he didn't say anything more Luna allowed herself to relax, just a bit.

"I wouldn't like to learn any curses, but we can study together," she said, expression neutral. She was still skeptical, but she was not the type to hold a grudge, even after all the trouble he'd caused her and her friends last year. If Draco had really turned things around, really changed, Luna would be the first to embrace it. She allowed him to drape his arm around her shoulders again as they continued their walk down the hallway.

"What are you struggling with in Magical Creatures?" she asked.

Before he could answer, a loud, high pitched moan echoed towards them from down the hall.

Her eyes grew wider. Unless there were nargles in her ears that were messing with her hearing, that had been the distinctive high pitched call of a Blibbering Humdinger!

"Draco!" she said excitedly. "I know the cry of a Blibbering Humdinger when I hear one."

And with that she slipped away from him, again making her way to the classroom, utterly convinced she was right about what lay behind the door.

There was also a distinct, loud, slapping sound, like flesh on flesh…

"That's it. Good slut. You really are as clever as you think you are sometimes."

Hermione beamed into the fabric of her tie, basking in Crabbe's praises. Of course she knew she was clever, but it was always nice for someone else to acknowledge it. Though sober Hermione would only appreciate the compliment to her cleverness, drugged Hermione reveled in being called a "good slut".

When he finally allowed her to drop down, slamming his hands on her thighs so hard they shook, she screamed in pleasure. The suddenness of it all at once hurt, but she loved every inch of his thick cock forcing her open. He didn't give her a second to adjust, just kept rutting again and again inside her, snapping his hips up like a man possessed. Hermione could not keep up with the husky Slytherin's frantic thrusting, but she did her best to try. Surely his fingers were going to leave imprints on her soft hips as he held her in his impervious grip, thrusting up into her madly.

Fucking Crabbe while seated in his lap like this felt more intimate than taking Goyle's dick from behind, and certainly more intimate than sucking Draco's cock. They stared into each other's eyes, her own shining with false desire, sharing in the perverse pleasure the Slytherins had forced upon her.

"Take it! Take it, you slut!" Crabbe ordered. He wrenched her tie out of her mouth to use it like a lease, forcing her in the direction he wanted her to go. With his hand gripping her tie tightly, he used it as leverage to bounce her on top of him.

"Yes! Yes! Give it to me harder! Harder, please!" The mudblood begged, gyrating her hips all over him. She leaned forward so her clit pressed up against his body as she rode him. Ohh that did feel good. His body was sturdy and solid and warm… Hermione moaned louder, gasping into his sweaty neck. His fingers felt like they were trying to leave a mark on her thighs and she loved it.

"Take that fucking dick, you bitch!"

"Mmhn feels so good!" she cried loudly against his skin.

Drugged and desirous, literally possessed by wild desire, Hermione pulled back, and did something she'd be most thankful to forget.

She kissed him.

Hermione kissed Crabbe open mouthed, immediately swooping her tongue inside his mouth when their lips collided. His mouth was overly wet and his tongue was broad and wide like the rest of him. When he pushed it into her mouth it practically filled it. Salvia drippled from the corner of their connected lips.

It was sloppy and gross and absolutely horrible by any normal standards, but in her drugged horny state it was just what she needed.

Hermione moaned wantonly against his lips, feeling another orgasm start to build as she rubbed herself on him again and again. Her hands grasped his shoulders tightly as he thrust into her madly.

Ginny was just cresting over the waves of pleasure when she dimly heard the door crack open, and her orgasm was in full force by the time the cold, drawling voice of Professor Snape reached them, but she could not stop it even though she desperately wanted to. Like a nightmare come to life, the beautiful redhead found herself slave to the throes of ecstasy for several long moments while Snape watched Dean sprew his spunk all over her face. Of all people, did it have to be him to find her gagging on cock as she writhed in ecstasy? Merlin, this was mortifying!

"Get up this instant! Put your cloaks on and hide your shame! Merlin's beard, what an absolute disgrace! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

Ginny's eyes widened. 50?! That was absurd! If Snape had caught Malfoy and Parkinson in this position she was sure they'd get off easy. Of all the heads of houses, Snape was the most biased. Ginny was pissed, but said nothing. She knew better than to argue. She was fiery, but she knew when she lost a battle. Dean however…

"Wait! No!" He shouted, tossing her aside so she crashed into a pile of quidditch supplies. "Don't bring the house into this!" he begged as he stood to his feet. Ginny struggled to her own a few moments later, having to dig herself out from the pile first.

"Stupid git," she muttered, kicking a stray bludger bat in Dean's direction so it smacked against his ankle. "You'll just make it worse."

50 points was a lot, but if Dean didn't shut up, she wouldn't put it past Snape to take a lot more.

It was then she realized she was still naked. She was standing stark naked with hard nipples and cum dripping down her face in front of Snape. She wondered if he found her attractive.

Ginny felt a rush of shame and was disgusted with herself for such a thought.

Shamefully, she had to pull her robes over her head, knowing full well that Snape would be wondering where the rest of her uniform was, especially her bra and panties! Ginny was so mortified she could hardly stand it. She wanted to sink into the floorboards and die. She wasn't thinking about house points right now, that horrible fact would settle in later, right now all she could think was that Snape had seen her naked. That, no matter how fleeting the sight had been, it was now fact that Professor Snape had seen her struggling to deepthroat her boyfriend's cock, had potentially seen her eyes roll back in the midst of orgasm.

She was already thought of as easy for getting caught snogging a variety of boys in abandoned corridors throughout Hogwarts, now even her professors were going to think she was a slut too.

Snape was staring directly at her, expectantly. Ginny started to panic; she'd missed what he'd said due to the shock and horror of the situation. He was holding out a Slytherin scarf to her in offering. Ginny finally caught on and took it to wipe Dean's spunk from her heated face hastily, wishing she could wipe away her embarrassment along with it.

Oh God now he'll think she was stupid too. A stupid slut. If word got out about this, she'd never live it down.

Snape was watching her, but Ginny said nothing. There was nothing to be said. When everyone saw that 50 house points were missing from the Gryffindor cup, there was bound to be speculation about whose fault it was. Snape held the power here. Perhaps if she complied with him, he wouldn't contradict whatever stupid excuse she came up with as to how she cost Gryffindor so many house points.

"After dinner, meet me in my office. We'll decide then how best to handle the… punitive effects of this indiscretion."

"Yes Professor Snape," she said. Bravely, she stared into his dark, black eyes as she spoke. "I'll meet you in your office after dinner, sir," she repeated his demand back to him.

"Wait, Luna!" Draco lunged after Luna as she pulled away and started charging up the moving staircase.

Draco groaned before giving chase. Luna was nothing if not headstrong. She was ambitious like a Slytherin student, but her knowledge of magical beasts made her a fitting Ravenclaw. Maybe Malfory was just wishful thinking.

He couldn't let her get back to the Divination Classroom.

If what was done to Hermione were to get out, his role in it could lead him to a cell in Azkaban. He grabbed Luna's arm and turned her, leaning in as she was forcibly made to do an about-face. His tug on her arm made her stumble toward him as he leaned upward.

Draco kissed Luna for the first time ever.

It was a pleasant surprise when she kissed him back, his arms encircling her waist while hers slipped around his neck. He stopped her from falling, holding her body against his, her feet never quite touching the same step as him until the kiss broke finally.

"I've been meaning to do that for some time," Draco smiled confidently, finally lowering Luna onto her feet, "c'mon. Let's go study for our Creatures class."

Crabbe's tongue coiled and rolled around with Hermione's between their mouths. As his head turned back and forth and she opened wider to moan and wail, the wet slapping of their tongues could be heard. Crabbe loved it, he'd been dreaming of fucking his crush in Hogwarts castle for so long. In his fantasies she hadn't just finished sucking Draco's cock and wasn't still sticky from his cum—but Crabbe tried not to think about that.

Keeping his eyes closed was helping.

"Merlin's Sake!" Goyle interjected, pushing himself against the door, "she's going mad! Finish up and let's get out of here."

She was being loud, but Crabbe liked it that way. The only drawback was that he was getting close and her moans were such a huge turn-on. He reluctantly broke the kiss, dragging his teeth over her bottom lip as he pulled away.

"I'm going to cum in you, slut. I'll pretend like it's to make Goyle feel better, but I was always going to. You're going to feel me all the way. All the way inside you. Deeper than you knew. Nothing is going to erase the mark I'm making on your body. You'll crave my cum inside you from now on. Forever!"

Crabbe planted his heels and thrust upward, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks, spreading her wider as he pushed up and emptied his balls of the thick, dense cum that had been backed up inside him for weeks.

"Cum," Crabbe demanded, his balls tugging upward as he blasted glut after glut of hot cum into her as deep as he could go, "cum yourself stupid, whore."

Another glut of hot cum. Crabbe spit into her face. Another glut—it was almost audible, like the sound of thirsty swallowing.

Crabbe groaned and pushed her off of him, letting the last of his ejaculation smear across her inner thigh.

"Alright. I'm done with her," Crabbe boasted, hitching up his pants, "Obliviate…"

((To be Continued…))