Chapter Seventy Four
"This is a little silly, isn't it?" Hermione said into the pillow, trying her best to stay still as Harry kissed her asscheeks, nibbling, biting, rubbing his face against her soft skin.
"I don't want to rush this." Harry said, savouring the view. Face down, ass up, his girl had never looked better. He'd fingered her a little just to add some colour to her cheeks, but the red was provided by the jewel in her rosebud. Her ass was just so wonderfully taut — he slapped it and everything just jiggled and returned into place, an enticing bubble that swelled out and back in.
"I already said yes, you know?" Hermione huffed, heaving herself up on her elbows to look back at him.
"I know, I just want you to be sure." Harry admitted, stretching up to cover her body with his, spooning her. She'd filled out a little since she'd started taking so many of his cumloads — the same slim figure with a little more cushion in all the right places.
When she smiled at him, her eyes sweetened, maple syrup and cinnamon sticks, the smile just for him. "You don't need to pretend you don't want this."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Just because I want it, it doesn't mean you have—"
"But it does." She interrupted. "And that's okay. I'm yours, aren't I? Why wouldn't I want to fulfil that fantasy?"
"It's not that big a deal—"
"It isn't?" Hermione raised an arch brow. "You don't want to see me limp into the Great Hall, to be unable to sit down, knowing you pounded my tight little bottom?"
"Herm—"
"You don't want to look at me in the Common Room, knowing that you've made m-my bottom-hole gape, that your cum is dripping out into my panties?"
"I'm just saying—"
Hermione tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, grinning like the spider who'd caught the fly. "You want me to sit on a Potions stool and know that I'm staining the seat with your seed. You want to know that you've made the teacher's pet into your pet, taken her in every hole."
Harry frowned. "It's scary how much you're in my head, you know. It's like you're using Legilimency."
Hermione giggled, pleased with herself. "It's just loove." She sang.
"Love gives you special mind-reading powers, huh?" He squeezed her ass, holding her to him.
"It does." She nodded, nuzzling his nose, staring into his eyes. "So I already know why you're hesitating."
Harry blew away a hair of hers that tickled his face. "I don't even know why."
"It's because you can't imagine a world in which your Hermione lets you take her back there. So if I'm allowing you, it must mean I've changed."
"I…well, yeah." He admitted.
She smirked at him. "Silly." She kissed him. "That's because you don't realize that the old me, the girl that was your best friend but not your lover — she'd have done anything for you, before the bond. Anything for her first friend, who she'd found a new family with in a new world."
Her eyes sparkled, chin quivering. Unshed tears. "Because you don't realize how much I l-love you!"
Hermione ducked her head into his chest as the tears spilled.
"Oh, love." Harry held her tight. His heart constricted. She had a way of tugging on his heart strings more than any other. How far they'd come. As his chest grew wet, he searched for something to say. Something that could express what he felt for her, in a way that 'I love you' couldn't. He hesitated. "If…If I lose it all — everything I've built, this power, this position, I'd still be happy, you know. If I still had you."
Hermione sobbed, her voice muffled. "I couldn't lose it all!"
"No?"
"Because my all is you, stupid!" She smacked his chest with soft hits, sniffling. "Oh god, now we sound like a bad movie." She pulled back, wiping her face frantically and poking at her running mascara. "Look what you've done to me."
"I know, I quite like it." Harry laughed.
"What?"
"Making your make-up run."
"Now all the secret's are coming out." She rolled her eyes. "Is that why you choke me half to death on your wand?"
"Partly." He admitted. "Partly it just feels amazing. Do you hate it? When I degrade you? I don't know if I ever asked."
She looked at him, exasperated. "You ask every day, Harry. Does it hurt? Do you mind? Do you like it? Is it okay if I make you gag?"
"Oh." Harry guffawed. She said it in such a matter-of-fact way.
"I don't mind." Hermione assured him. "Degrade me, debase and debauch me. I'll take it all."
"Really?"
"Because, my Harry," she caressed his cheek. "I still see the boy in you. The first day we met on the train, the cute boy with a mountain of chocolate by his side and half of it on his lips, sitting with Ron."
"Feels like a decade ago."
"Not much has changed." Hermione teased. "Except now instead of chocolate, it's me on your lips. And instead of hoarding chocolate, you're hoarding girls."
Harry's laughter was cut short by a thought of his cousin Dudley. Perhaps they weren't so different — selfish, desiring all the shiny things.
"Stop it." She pressed a finger to his lips. "You're not selfish. You're just not unique — everyone in this generation glories in the excessive. Even me, sometimes."
He thought for a long minute. "I could see a world in which I go the other way, you know?"
"Really? How?"
"I don't know, like…you and I disappear from this world. Find a little place by the sea in, I don't know, Argentina?"
"With Hitler." Hermione said dryly.
"Huh?"
"That's the old conspiracy theory — Hitler escaped the Allies and went to live the rest of his life in Argentina."
"Wow." Harry groaned as he buried his face in her hair. "Can't escape the Dark Lords anywhere, huh?"
She snickered. "Sorry, go on. We have a place by the sea in Argentina."
"You could be my barefoot and constantly pregnant housewife." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And we just watch the world go by. Forget the war." He hummed. "I could make it happen. Maybe we'd be happier?"
She shook her head. "Happier, maybe. But not safer. Danger doesn't go away when you ignore it. Besides," she stretched a hand between them, at the cock that pushed eagerly between her thighs, "I couldn't deal with this all by myself."
"No?"
Hermione gave him a flat look. "You know how many times you unload a day now? Narcissa sent us all a directive that you should be getting 'drained at least four and as many as six' times a day."
From outside the door, they heard Cissy's indignant squeal. "That was secret!"
"Go away!" Hermione crowed.
Harry smirked as he heard the giggles from outside the door — Cissy, Helena and one other that he couldn't identify.
"Six times a day?"
Hermione nodded. She rolled her eyes but she was licking her lips. "And even after today, I'll only have three available holes."
"You're certain, then?" Harry's fingers traced the ruby embedded in her asshole. "About this?"
"I'm certain I love you." She said softly. "I'm certain that my love is pure and unconditional and so strong that it feels like my heart will explode sometimes. So yes, I'm certain."
She took his fingers and kissed them, rubbed them against her face. "Don't worry, Master. You can—" She arched into him, sighing softly as he pulled and pushed the plug inside her. "You can pound my bottom. You can cum on my face. You can make me beg for it. You can use me as a toy and fuck my throat until I can't breathe and then a bit longer." She pressed a mischievous kiss to his nose. "Just as long as you cuddle me afterwards and tell me you love me."
Harry swallowed. It was unfair how easily she read him. She knew all of his turn-ons, knew what to say to drive him wild.
He squeezed her hard, so hard she squeaked, a physical way to say those three words. "This is a really big deal to me." He admitted.
"I know," she smiled ruefully. "I've been thinking about it too. Especially after Helena told me about her first time."
She rolled away from him, hooked her hands under her knees and lifted her legs up. "How do you want me?" She bit her lips. "Like this?"
Harry hesitated. It was how he had her most often — fucking her into the mattress, staring into her eyes, rutting her, fantasizing about breeding her. She'd go wild when he'd tell her he was fucking a baby deep into her womb, though they never mentioned it after sex, like the fantasy was too sacrosanct to acknowledge until the day it was possible.
But this wasn't about breeding. This was dirty.
And he wasn't a boy any longer. He knew that dirty sex, obscene fucking, it wasn't done naked. Sluts didn't get naked, they got dressed.
"I need you to try on a few things first." Harry muttered.
Hermione frowned, her pussy dripping and swollen with arousal. "But I want you now." She said childishly.
"Patience, sweetheart." He grinned. "Presents need to be wrapped. Girls, get in here!"
The girls tumbled in as the door fell open, a pile of limbs. Narcissa, Helena, even Daphne.
Hermione groaned. "Why are you here?"
"What?" Daphne clambered to her feet and stuck her hands on her hips. "You saw me getting fucked all night and you thought I wouldn't stick around to watch you scream on your first time?" She smirked. "I can't wait."
"Outfits, girls." Harry interrupted. "I want options."
Hermione was reluctantly and forcibly handled into a variety of options. White lingerie, corset and veil.
"It's not a wedding," she scowled.
"Yeah, you don't get one of those." Daphne mocked.
"Why don't you go drown in the lake—"
"Okay!" Harry said loudly. "Next!"
Helena gave her friend a maid outfit she'd purchased, but Hermione wasn't happy with that either. "Maids will just make him think of the French girls." She whispered.
Harry pretended not to hear — she was probably right.
The next outfit was perfect. An full length bodystocking outfit, fishnets from toe to chest, cheap and basic crisscross fishnet. Everything was on display but the fishnets gave it a delightfully sinful accent.
Hermione plucked the net uncomfortably. "I look like a slut."
"It's perfect." Narcissa admired.
"Definitely looking like the sort of girl who'd take it up the ass." Daphne agreed.
"You're going to take shots, of all people?" Hermione sniffed.
"It's almost perfect." Harry agreed. "Just one thing—" He reached out to her ass and loudly ripped the fishnet apart, creating a hole for her ass to bounce out of, and giving him a wide berth of access.
"Can we do the oil now?" Helena said eagerly.
"What oil—ah!" Hermione squealed as Daphne squirted her with a bottle of heated up babyoil.
"From head to toe." Harry instructed.
Hermione spluttered as the three women coated her liberally from the neck down, until she was a shining and glistening mess. Her ample breasts dripped with oil — the proud girl tried to cross her arms in disapproval, but her arms just slid down her frame. In a fishnet bodystocking, her hair curled down past her shoulders, her lips given some gloss and pink shade by Helena, her mascara redone by Narcissa, she looked like a perfect slut.
"Don't look so grumpy." Daphne chided.
"…I need heels too." Hermione whispered, staring at the ground. Even humiliated, she was such a good girl.
Harry kissed her as she slipped into the black heels Helena quickly provided. "You look stunning."
"I look like a whore."
"My whore." He kissed her hard, bruisingly. "And that makes all the difference. Everyone out!"
The girls trailed out, grumbling. The door shut, though he knew they were listening at the crack.
"Eep!" Hermione uttered as he picked her up and roughly threw her on the bed. Looking over her shoulder as he approached, biting her lip, her ruby jewel gleaming between her oiled-up taut asscheeks, her fishnets ripped — he wasn't sure she'd ever looked hotter.
His cock throbbed as he rubbed his head through her soaking pussy lips, lubing himself even more. "Are you ready for me to take all your holes, sweetheart?" Harry teased. "To give yourself to me in every way?" He tugged her hair back and kissed her. "When I enter that ring of yours, it'll be like sliding a ring on your finger, you know. A life long commitment to be my girl, every night, every way."
"Yes!" Hermione gasped, panting at his touch. "That's what I want! A forever." She looked at him through smoky eyes — Cissy had been heavy with her eyeliner. "Take my bottom, please."
"Is that really how you should beg?" He frowned.
She bit her lip. "Don't play, Harry. Just do me." She wiggled her ass. "I'm ready!"
Harry grinned. It wouldn't be her if she did as he asked. "As the lady likes." He gently removed her plug and squirted some oil into her slightly gaped pucker. Hermione trembled with nerves, clenching shut as his cock nudged forward.
"Relax, sweetheart." He comforted her with soothing hands on her asscheeks, spreading her wide with his thumbs.
"O-okay."
Harry positioned his cock at her rosebud again, trying to push himself in, even an inch. But try as he might, he couldn't. Her hole was too small, too tight.
"Fuck." He muttered, spitting on his cock.
"I-it's not working?" Hermione said forlornly.
"It's okay, beautiful. We have all night. You're just tight, that's all."
"Defective." She said instantly.
"No!" Harry scoffed. "It's better, if anything — you'll feel even better once I'm in."
But the worry on her face didn't dissipate, not even when he slid two fingers into her sopping pussy, wetting them, and then gently traced her anus before pushing them in.
"Yeah," she moaned, biting her lip. Two fingers and a third.
"How do you feel?"
"Full."
"It's only three fingers."
"That's what scares me. You're a lot bigger."
"I'd never hurt you." He murmured.
"Try again."
His angry-looking mushroom head pushed at her backdoor, but still, there was no movement. The crinkled brown rosebud winked as she tensed and untensed, but even with him spreading her cheeks, trying to relax her, he couldn't push his girthy head inside. He tried more oil, tried re-inserting the plug and then quickly entering once it was removed, tried using his fingers — he even tried Calming Charms.
But she was too tight, her hole too tiny. And the longer he couldn't enter, the more distraught Hermione became.
"I can't do it!" She wailed. "I'm defective!"
"Sweetheart, it's just anal, I still love you, we can try some other—"
"No!" She begged. "You said it'd be like a wedding ring. I'm not your forever girl unless you take me in every way, and I can't do it!"
"My Mione." He knee-crawled up the bed and held her as she cried. "You're mine regardless — I'm never letting you go."
"I thought it'd be easier." She sniffled into his chest. "I've been training with my plug for you."
"It's not a big deal, love."
"It is!" She insisted. "Helena could do it — and she said you went crazy for it."
"I mean, not crazy—"
"I can't be the only one who can't take you up there." She whimpered. "Or you'll forget about me."
"Hermione, that would never happen—" But it was useless — she wasn't listening to him as she cried.
Harry caught sight of movement at the door — the girls were peeking through the ajar gap, worry on their faces.
He beckoned them in.
"Girls, any ideas?"
"Oh, great." Hermione said bitterly, wiping her face. "Now everyone can see I'm a failure." She scowled at Daphne. "Go on, Greengrass, gloat all you like."
Daphne winced, looking between her and Harry. "It's only not working because he doesn't want to hurt you." She said, with a little bitterness herself. "He just forced his way into me."
"I don't know if that's fair." Harry muttered.
Helena bit her lip. "Maybe if I can like, put my fingers in and sort of hold her open for you."
"You will absolutely not." Hermione growled, face like thunder.
"More oil?" Cissy said hopefully.
"No, I've tried that." Harry grimaced — she was already slippery to hold, coated in oil, her asscheeks shining.
"Ooh, I know!" Cissy's eyes lit up. "I'll go Floo Apolline — she gave me lots of advice when it was, well, my turn." She blushed and ran off.
"Everyone can do it except me." Hermione buried her face in his chest, her tears trailing down. "I hate being left out."
"Nobody is leaving you out, love."
"You will!" She grumped. "It's just like when you could fly on your broomstick and I couldn't and when you had your Firebolt and when you went to Hogsmeade with Katie and…and…"
"Ssh," He stroked her hair reassuringly. "That was before I knew what a great cock-sucker you are."
"Harry!"
"What? Best blowjobs in town. Helena, even when I was waiting for the Portkey to activate to come and rescue you, I couldn't resist putting another load down Hermione's throat."
Helena grinned. "She does love to worship your cock — I bet she tried to make it look like it was your idea."
"I know what you're doing, you know." Hermione sniffed, kicking her legs.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Narcissa pushed the door open. "I…Apolline wasn't in, so I, well, got the next best thing." She stepped aside and Fleur stalked in. A minidress and platform heels, looking like she'd just got off the catwalk. She tossed Helena her sunglasses as she sashayed toward them.
"Bonjour, 'Arry." She leaned over the bed to kiss his cheek twice.
"Oh, not you." Hermione groaned. "Greengrass, do you want to go get Flint and Goyle too? Invite the whole bloody school, why don't you?"
"Fleur, I can't get in." Harry said, parting Hermione's buttocks. "She's just too tight."
Fleur harrumphed as she took in the whole affair. "Amateur. Why do you not come to Fleur, 'Arry?" Her hand wrapped around his cock. "I will take care of you, oui?"
He gave her a limp smile. "I've been busy, darling — the plan with Susan, rescuing Helena, you know."
"And there is a queue." Narcissa jabbed from behind her.
Fleur sighed dramatically, examining her fingernails. "Zis is ze problem, always. I have to do everyzing myself."
"Fleur." Harry warned.
"What do I get?" She crossed her arms expectantly.
"You won't get the Daphne discipline treatment." Harry threatened.
She gulped, seeing the look in his eye. "A 'ard bargain, but I agree." She sniffed at Hermione on the bed. "Do not fall in love with zis, 'Ermione." Then, she leaned down, placed both hands on Hermione's oiled-up asscheeks, spread them roughly and placed her mouth directly on the girl's crinkled star.
Harry heard Helena's gasp as Fleur's inhumanly long tongue slithered inside Hermione's asshole, and then heard Hermione's shriek.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Hermione arched on the bed, but Harry's eyes were locked on the obscene display Fleur was putting on. This was not gentle lapping, but noisy, filthy munching — Fleur's hands gripping Hermione's shining bare bottom to hold her in place while she went to town, tongue-fucking her asshole noisily, slobbering, slurping, gurgling.
"Stop, stop!" Hermione begged, writhing, her eyes bulging. "Harry, she's inside, she's inside!" Despite her words, her hands stretched down almost subconsciously to rub her pussy.
Daphne sniggered and elbowed Narcissa as she watched. "Bet this brings back memories, huh?"
"What does she mean, Mother?" Helena asked innocently.
Narcissa flushed red.
Fleur held Hermione tight as she lapped noisily, her lips glued to her asshole, no matter how hard Hermione rocked and bucked.
"Oh God, oh gooood," Hermione shouted as she came — they could all see the tremor that sparked through her body and the gush of juices from her pussy. Fleur pulled away, saliva around her smeared red lipstick — the same lipstick that was on Hermione's spasming ring.
"Quickly, 'Arry!" Fleur ordered, taking hold of his cock.
Harry let himself be led as she roughly inserted him. For a second, he thought it hadn't worked, and then the stunning Veela draped himself around his back, one hand on his cock, one around his waist, her sultry breath in his ear. "Sometimes, to be kind, you 'ave to be cruel first, non? You taught me zat, Master." She pushed him forward firmly, sending him spearing into Hermione's twitching asshole.
Her anus stretched open. She gasped for the same air her scream split through. But he was in, into her velvet-lined tunnel, unbelievably hot.
"I'm in!" He crowed.
Hermione looked at him over her shoulder, her hair stuck to her face, a mess of tears and running make-up, her creamy skin shining with sweat, her fishnetted-figure coated in oil, a prize fish speared. When she smiled back at him through lidded eyes, dipped her waist, arched her ass, he thought he'd never seen something so beautiful. Her hands on his. Together they spread her cheeks because before lovers, they were a team.
Harry slid in slowly, watching his cock disappear in her ass, a magic trick from the smartest witch he'd ever known. Hermione clenched and unclenched as his cock invaded, moaning a slow, incoherent gurgle.
"Fuck." He whispered, watching the inches go by, feeling the indescribable vice-tight heat of her. She squeezed his hands and hissed as he bottomed out in her, pressed against her warm soft buttocks.
"You're in." She murmured with wonder.
"I'm inside your ass." Harry echoed, more than a little awed himself. His Hermione, his bookworm, the rule-stickler, the good girl.
Corrupted. Sodomized. Assfucked.
She wiggled her bottom cutely, trying to get more comfortable with the monster lodged inside her.
Fleur clapped her hands. "Bon voilà." She said smugly.
"It doesn't seem possible." Helena craned her head closer.
"Congratulations, Master." Narcissa murmured, her hands dipping to her breasts, a flush in her cheeks.
"Merlin." Daphne licked her lips, struck silent. Her nipples poked through her blouse.
"Out, all of you!" Harry snapped. The girls grumbled and trailed out, but with them gone, the moment seemed even more absurd. He almost felt like he needed an audience — if only to prove that he wasn't hallucinating. Hermione entwined her fingers around his, her ankles at the back of his thighs.
"It's okay." She murmured, her hair hiding her eyes. "Enjoy me."
He did. Slow fucking her, bottoming out and then pulling out to the tip of his cock, before hilting himself in long single thrusts, enjoying her gasps and hisses. She never got looser, her tunnel gripping him almost painfully.
"So full," she choked out.
"So fucking good," he repeated.
He picked up the pace, his balls clapping against her soaking pussy, his hands sliding all over her slick body. His cock dripping precum made it easier for him to thrust, but her ass felt like it had a hoover-grip on his cock, like she didn't want to let him go. Hermione, through all of their naughty nights and late mornings, had often been too shy to engage in dirty talk, and he preferred to make her scream and whimper, but when she did do it, she had a natural advantage — she knew him inside and out.
"Does it feel good, Harry?" She rocked back at him. "Stuffing your dirty best friend with your huge cock?"
From outside the door, Harry could hear a little titter — the girls were listening in. But he didn't care about them, not when he was sawing in and out of Hermione's tight little bottom, watching her taut teenage oil-glistened peach-cheeks clap around his shaft, not when she was giving him that naughty smile over her shoulder.
"My Hermione." He said softly, affectionately. God, how he loved her.
"Your Hermione." She wiggled her ass. "Helena said you told her when you were done that she was now your little buttslut." She raised a delicate eyebrow and looked at him with mock innocence. "Am I your little buttslut too, Master?"
"Fuck, Mione."
"So juvenile," she pouted. "I'm an educated girl, top of my class, and you reduce me to a buttslut."
Harry growled. She knew what she was doing. "You're only a slut if you love it. Do you love it?"
Hermione smirked at him — it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. "I don't know. It's not as good as a good book, you know?"
He snarled. She giggled.
Harry leaned over her, taking a grip of her hair and pulling her head back as he thrust in, bending her backwards. Deeper, as deep as possible, to claim every inch of her, to explore her fully, own her wholly. He ground himself against her ass as he pulled her up by her hair. His good girl whimpered. And yet again, read his mind. "Is that what you want?" She groaned out. "To reshape me? To ruin your sweet little Hermione with your big dick?"
"I'm going to make you beg, sweetheart." Harry snapped, but as he roughly pounded her, his precum lathering her backdoor until the room was filled with the sound of sloppy clapping assfucking, he realized he'd rendered her incapable of speaking — her whines become whimpers, her gasps became gurgles and when he pulled her hair back, her eyes were unfocused, saliva dribbling from her lip to her nose to her hair. When she came, he had to hold even tighter to see her head from lolling dangerously, her asshole squeezing and throbbing around his cock, her pussy squirting over his balls.
Harry let her fall back to the pillow, let her her tremble and quiver and recover from her first anal orgasm. With his cock still buried in her, he covered her body with his and pressed kisses to her forehead, wiped her matted hair away from her face.
"You okay?" He smirked.
"Guh."
"I bet you did a lot of reading on anal sex, didn't you? My girl loves to prepare."
She blinked at him, her brain rebooting.
"What were the probabilities of a woman experiencing an anal orgasm?" Harry teased.
She shivered, hugging herself. "…low." She looked away from his eyes. "Especially the first time."
"My little buttslut." He said affectionately. "What about multiple orgasms?"
"You are vulgar." Hermione sniffed. "Did you cum?"
"Not yet."
She looked upset. All his girls hated the fact that he didn't cum as easily as they did, even though they were all supremely sensitive — he was certain Cissy had a mini-orgasm just from breathing him in, the week before.
She clenched her asshole around him, her toes sliding up the back of his calves as she tried to tie herself around him, from under him. "I can be dirtier," she promised. "You can be rougher — you can treat me like Daphne, if you want. I won't mind."
"I don't want that." He assured.
Hermione frowned at him. "I know what you guys like. That's what I made you take me home the other day — I found Dad's box of dirty magazines in the garage, the ones Mum ordered him to throw out."
"Can we not talk about your parents right now?"
"It's not about the photos." Hermione stroked his neck as she lay prone underneath him, squeezing and unsqueezing him. "It's about the letters — the direct insight into a male's mind. Quite fascinating, really — ugh, you're in my stomach, I swear — f-from an intellectual point of view."
"You're the only girl I know who can have a conversation with a dick in her ass." Harry admired.
"That's because you bonded featherheads." Hermione sniffed.
"Hey!" Helena squealed from outside the room.
Hermione ignored her. "So I know all about the fetishistic appeal of the bottom. It's the symbolism, of doing something dirty, as wrong. But more importantly, it's about the woman doing it, loving it. Like she's your dirty slut — or you made her into a slut with your sheer machismo." She rolled her eyes.
"Uh, sweetheart, do you want to talk about this later?"
Hermione didn't seem to hear him. "I wasn't expecting the bodily pleasure I would feel though." She shivered. "I felt so full, so stuffed, so close to you. It's just a theory, but I think that, scientifically, the female feels as if she is outdoing her peers by performing such an act for her man. The same feeling one gets from cooking for you, or doing your homework." She blushed. "I imagine, I mean."
Harry smiled uncertainly. "Does this mean we're doing this again?"
Hermione gave him a long-suffering look. "As if you'd give me any choice." She bit her lip. "But yes, I'm…amenable."
Daphne's snigger was audible.
"Like right now?" He said impatiently — he was still hard and ready to get his rocks off.
"Give me a little break? I feel like I've taken a Hippogriff back there." Hermione begged.
"Okay." Harry withdrew from her.
Hermione gave him a knowing look. "Did you make me gape for you? I've read all the pornographic terms."
Harry swallowed as she reached behind her to pull her cheeks apart — her puckered and red ring, oozing with his frothy precum, winking and glistening with oil, above the pussy that dripped a pool on the bed.
"Did you ruin me?" Hermione asked innocently.
He hissed — he needed a place to bury his cock right now, but he didn't want to hurt her. There was only one option.
"Do you remember when we disciplined Daphne the first time, with Hannah?" Harry said slowly.
"You took her bottom."
"And I made you clean my cock afterwards."
Hermione grimaced. "Gross, but I did it because I love you."
Harry recalled that in fact she'd been quite aroused by it, once she'd started.
She saw the look in his eyes. "No, Harry!" She warned.
But he'd already pulled her by the leg down the bed. He rolled her around and pounced, his knees on either side of her mouth.
"Don't you dare—"
Harry buried his cock in her mouth, sliding immediately down her spluttering throat.
"Glug… gurk…gluk…" Hermione choked as he forced his cock all the way, balls on her lips, making her clean his cock as he fucked her face. Her lips stretched obscenely around his girthy cock, she looked at him with the classic Hermione look — exasperation, affection, a glint in her eye. When she raised an eyebrow to say 'Really?!', he almost came right then.
She was obedient, all the same — her tongue lapped around his dirty cock, and when he stroked her hair lovingly, she slurped noisily for him.
"I love you." He told her simply.
She gurgled back at him.
When he thought she'd had enough, he pulled away. "I'm sure your magazines said something about ass to mouth." He taunted.
She gasped for air. "I thought this sort of thing is what the Veela are for."
"In time." Harry promised, knowing Fleur was listening outside. "But my cockslut buttslut best friend will do anything, won't she?"
Hermione wrapped two hands around his cock. "She's so madly in love that she will." She agreed.
"Did you see anything you wanted to try in those magazines?"
Her lips parted. "It wasn't meant for the bottom, but well, maybe, the lotus position?"
"What's that?"
"It's quite romantic." She said shyly. "If you sit back against the headboard and cross your legs—"
"Like this?"
"—perfect. And I—" She sat on his lap and wrapped her legs around his hips, suddenly looking into his eyes, her whole body against him, a sitting embrace. It was suddenly very intimate.
Hermione caressed his cheek as she rose up and slowly slid his cock between her soft cheeks, his cock popping once more through her rosebud. He watched it play out on her face — the wince of discomfort, the moan of fullness, the gasp as he bottomed out, the face of unexpected, embarrassing pleasure.
In this position, he could touch her all over, her body pressed against his. He held and squeezed her breasts as she slowly pushed herself up and down his cock, memorizing the tight clenching feeling of her tunnel and the whimpers that escaped unbidden.
She was, as always, a fast learner. Soon, she bounced in his lap, his anal-loving cowgirl, staring with unfocused eyes into his own, teeth tugging at his lip as she ground, rocked, wiggled.
"Yes," She moaned as she bounced, whining as he pinched her nipples. A hand dropped between them, rubbing at her clit.
"You're loving it." Harry accused.
"Feels so good." She groaned. "Fuck, yes, more, more, more—" She shrieked as he switched up, clutched her ass cheeks and spanked her with every bounce, pussy gushing down over their joint union, Hermione's own special blessing.
"I love you." He told her. She rested her forehead against his, adoration in her eyes.
"You have unravelled me," she whispered. "I am undone."
"I've always known this was in you — this confident, beautiful woman." He murmured.
"Only because you remade me." She told him. "I am beautiful only because you see me so. I am confident only because you want me so. I am a slut only because you desire me so."
She must have seen the mix of emotions on his face, because she laughed and kissed him.
"That's what's wonderful, silly. I am composed entirely of your love." She smiled, wider than he'd ever seen, glowing with happiness. "Shakespeare wrote his lover sonnets. Rembrandt painted his wife again and again. But you created me." Hermione sighed, hand on her chest. "What can be more romantic than that? I am born again, a heart beating only with the love you have given it."
Harry found himself robbed of words. "I wish I had your tongue…to say what you mean to me."
Hermione smirked as she reached behind her to take hold of the base of his cream-covered cock embedded inside her. "It's okay, my Harry — I know you speak with this instead." She giggled. "This is your love language." Her bottom lip jutted out. "But you're not filling me up with your love."
"You feel incredible." He assured her. "I was just too busy watching you enjoy yourself."
"I've been selfish." She worried. "A silly little slut wanting some romance with her sodomy."
"Hardly—"
"But I know what you need." She rose up his cock and pressed herself down on the bed, face down, ass up, wiggling teasingly. "You need to pound your loyal best friend." She looked at him with doe eyes. "Please fuck my bottom, Master." Hermione begged adorably. "Please fuck your silly buttslut and use your good girl. M-my bottom feels so empty without you."
"Merlin, Hermione." Harry muttered, his cock throbbing with need. "I can't be gentle, sweetheart."
"You don't need to be. Ruin me. Reshape me so that I only fit your cock, so my tight little bottom feels empty without you." Hermione sniffed. "Like my heart feels empty when you're not around."
But as he approached, he heard a growl from outside the door. Fleur stomped in, scowling crossly. "Stupid girl." She sniffed. "'Arry 'as already seen you like zis, idiote! 'Arry needs new, ah, ze word, I do not know ze word! Where is Marie when I need 'er?"
"Stimulus?" Helena provided from behind her.
"Oui! Stimulus." Fleur nodded. She waved her wand and the bed Transfigured into a…large pink rubber exercise ball.
Hermione squeaked as she found herself draped over it. She tried to get up and just ended rolling forward onto it.
"Hmmph!" Fleur nodded in approval and left again, though Harry could see four heads peeking through the ajar doorway. He didn't care, drinking in the sight of Hermione in fishnets, her oiled ass jiggling as she tried and failed to get off the exercise ball. The ball rolled forward. Hermione shrieked — facedown on the ball, hands on the floor, head over ass. Her ass was at the perfect height, her hole winking at him.
Harry stepped between her kicking legs, took hold of her cheeks and roughly speared into her slutty cum-covered asshole.
"Harry!" She screamed.
He wasn't listening, fucking her juicy asshole. Holding her buttocks with a rough meaty grip, hammering into her. She tried to wriggle away, to recover, but the exercise ball was his ally — every hard pound made her sink into the rubber and bounce back at him, making her fuck him back, forcing him deeper.
"Gurk—" Hermione squeaked as he fucked her hard.
Hip-rolling thrusts, her legs splayed out, unable to move. Harry fucked her like an animal, brutally, lust hazing his mind. She'd had her fun — now it was time for his. He mauled her supple cheeks, making her assflesh bulge out between his fingers, and leaned over her to fuck down into her ass, forcing every inch of his cock to stuff her fully.
"Ungh…uhh…unn…" She choked out as he rutted her frantically. It was dirty depraved assfucking — her red handprinted asscheeks clapping together, her tits slapping with the sheer force of his thrusts, her pussy squirting, her asshole cum-sloppy, oozing and frothy around his cock-seal.
Hermione pushed him over the edge. "I-in my bottom!" She begged deliriously. "Cum in my bottom."
"Mione!" Harry groaned as he unloaded, hot seed spurting deep into her, churning ropes of gooey cream blasted into her tunnel, and she couldn't help herself — succumbing to the toe-curling anal orgasm that made her body twitch, her ass spasm, and her tunnel tighten around Harry's unloading cock.
"Take it." He growled as he hosed her ass fully, enjoying her tightening and twitching from her insensate body. "You love it, don't you?"
Hermione just gurgled in response.
After a long minute of enjoying her warmth and her flesh against his, Harry exhaled deeply, staggering backwards. His cum flooded from her abused asshole, a river of the sea he'd deposited. Hermione moaned, completely limp, draped over the ball and unable to move.
Behind him, the girls watched in fascination. Heavy breaths and wet fingers showed they'd enjoyed themselves too.
Helena stepped beside Hermione to stroke her hair comfortingly, while Cissy gave him a glass of water.
"Mon dieu." Fleur declared, staring at Hermione's asshole that winked uselessly, trying to contain the flood of white cream. She wrinkled her nose. "C'est très dégoûtant."
The sight had robbed her of her English, but Harry scoffed all the same. "You're not fooling anyone, Fleur."
"Quoi?"
Harry stared at her imperiously. The French cocktease had led him on for ages — but he was getting his own back, slowly but surely. He grabbed her hair as he swept her feet out from under her.
"Eee!" She squealed. It was of no use. Harry forced her face into Hermione's ass, mashing her into it.
"Come on, cum-slut." He taunted. "Veela are built for this, aren't they? This is why I took you, you know — to be my good little clean-up maid."
Fleur's muffled voice sounded angry, but it was hard to tell. It only took half a minute before she gave in, her tongue slurping up his seed, munching away at Hermione's distended hole. Hermione twitched and moaned, unable to move.
Daphne kissed his cheek as he watched. "Can your naughty Slytherin girl prove how sorry she is again?" She asked.
"Oh?"
She fluffed her long blonde hair and sank slowly to her knees. "A good wife cleans up after her messy husband, after all."
Her sky blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she extended her tongue to lick a globule of seed from his shaft. "Ugh." She muttered. "Tastes like Mudblood."
"Be good." Harry patted her head, tying her hair around his hand. Daphne liked to have direction — and discipline. "Or I'll put you on the ball next."
Looking up at him, her throat bulging, she winked.
Harry sighed in pleasure. His cock being cleaned by Daphne. Cissy on hand, wearing just an apron with a glass of water and a tray of pastries, trying not to spill anything as he groped her thick bottom. Hermione, legs twitching as Fleur suctioned his cum from her ass. Helena caught his gaze and mouthed 'I love you', the straps of her negligee falling down her shoulder deliberately.
He lived a charmed life. Voldemort and Grindelwald and Umbridge's fat rolls aside, he was lucky beyond measure. He'd built himself a paradise of love.
Now he needed to fight to keep it.
###
The next morning, he knew it was time to get back to work. Voldemort had upped the ante — not just by breaking Grindelwald out, but because the Dark Lord now knew that he was searching for the horcruxes. With the locket destroyed, he'd be frantically moving all of them.
It was a blow, Harry knew. The only consolation was that in the past, the Horcruxes remained exactly where they were. If he could find them in the past, it didn't matter where Voldemort hid them in the future.
He woke up in two different decades. The Harry of the present woke up and enjoyed a long, slow blowjob from a Daphne still eager to redeem herself. She endured Narcissa's criticism during the blowjob admirably — and even let Helena share some of the ropes that spurted from him.
Harry rested back, his hands behind his head, watching his girls get dressed for the day. Hermione, wincing with every movement as she pulled her stockings up her legs. Daphne, clipping her garter belt into place, bent at the waist. Helena watched at his side, naked.
"Can't I go back to school too?" She whined for the third time. "Draco won't come back to Durmstrang, even if he is still alive."
"Not yet, sweetheart." He patted her bum. "Let's make sure it's safe, first."
"But I'm making good progress on getting girls for you." Her eyes lit up. "My friends love to hear abut my rich boyfriend who rocks my world."
"When we find Draco, you go back to school." He promised. "Until then, study from home."
Helena pouted, cuddling into him. "Stupid Draco. Coward took me when I was knee deep in snow — I could barely walk, let alone dodge the spell."
Between his legs, Narcissa tossed her long platinum blonde hair back — she'd insisted on cleaning him up. "You're sure he didn't die?"
"He was out of it, burning on the ship." Helena added.
Harry shook his head. "When the Anti-Apparition wards fell when the ship crashed against the cliff, he could have Apparated away. They didn't find a body."
Helena growled cutely. "He's gonna pay. Right, Master?"
He ruffled her hair. "Too right — sorry, Cissy."
She gave him a thin smile. "He deserves to die, for making an attempt on your life, for putting Helena in danger. We have to protect our family."
"Family is important." He agreed. "Speaking of family, my future wife — Susan. I still want to know who attacked her? Did you look at the bodies while I was in the cave?"
"No Dark Marks." Helena said.
"They looked like wands for hire." Narcissa suggested. "A mix of nationalities, a lot of scars."
"So weird," he grimaced. "Somebody has it out for her. I can't figure out who…or why."
"House Bones is a serious House, even without Amelia." Daphne suggested as she adjusted her tie in the mirror. "Maybe they just want an Ancient light-sided House of the picture?"
"Probably." Harry admitted. "Which makes it even more important that I bring her under my protection."
"How's it going?" Helena kissed his collarbone.
"Getting there."
"And the Veela?"
Harry scratched his ear. "The Queen said she'd let me have her for a night if I got the Veela into the Symposium, to hit their targets. I'm, uh, waiting for my invitation."
Helena raised her head and gave him an odd look. "Can't you just go there?"
"I can, I'm just…" Harry glanced down below his waist, checking his cock was intact.
Helena snickered. "You're scared!"
"Maybe a little. What if I put my dick in her and she bites it off like her daughter?" He shuddered.
Cissy swatted her daughter when she giggled. "It's no laughing matter! Our Master was dismembered! We should raze those whores to the ground and turn the Riviera red with their blood."
Harry's lips twitched. "You sound like your sister, but you're right, they'll get theirs soon enough. Once I have the Queen, I'll have her daughter begging for her life."
The Harry of the past was indulging in Narcissa's sister that very moment. Crazy Bellatrix had woken him in a less pleasant way than Daphne — she bit his cock hard enough to draw blood. He'd reacted out of reflex, backhanding her across the face. But she only licked her bloody lips, spat red onto his cock and laughed as she licked it up again.
"You taste like power!" She hissed in glee.
Harry grabbed his wand and soon she was choking on air, rather than his cock. Her smile grew along with her eyes, even as her skin turned blue.
"Psycho." He dropped her.
"Yours," she nuzzled his thigh.
"I need you to do something for me."
"Make me."
A swish of his wand.
She hit the ceiling…and stayed there. Embedded in the plaster, dust and debris splintering and showering down. From above, she gawked at him as he lay on the bed comfortably.
"I'm not asking, Bella." He rolled to the side and cancelled the spell. After the thump, he rolled back and clasped his hand around her throat, squeezing the fight from her. She mewled, pouted and he couldn't help himself — she was adorably psycho. He kissed her bloody lips, fought her tongue, swapping saliva and copper red.
When she grew too needy, he pulled away. "I need you to join Voldemort's ranks."
He needed the Hufflepuff Cup. Harry's memories — Voldemort's memories — told him that he gave Bellatrix the Cup for safekeeping in the same way that he gave Lucius the diary. The future was fucked — Voldemort would move the cup out of fear of losing another Horcrux, but here in the past, if Bellatrix joined the Dark Lord, she should be given the Cup again.
"I don't want to." She whined. "I chose you. Your power." She thwacked her head onto his chest, entwining her bare legs with his. "I'm yours, Master."
"Please." Harry sniffed. "If anything, I chose you. Besides, I'm not asking, Bella. I need you to do this for me — it's important. More than you know."
She huffed. "But I'm your pet, you said. I don't want to be his."
He swept her hair away from her neck and kissed the spot behind her ear. "Don't you want to be my most loyal? The only one I can trust?"
She nodded, rubbing her head back and forth over his heart. She loved to listen to his heartbeat.
"Okay." Bellatrix said finally.
They lay in comfortable silence for a long moment.
A kitten's meow broke it.
"Kitty!" Bella jumped off the bed and scampered to scoop it up. "Where'd you go, naughty thing?" She covered it in kisses.
"You…you two are getting along?"
She looked at him, affronted. "Of course I am — I'm not a monster. I'd never hurt an animal." She hesitated. "Unless it was a rabbit — I hate their beady eyes."
The kitten meowed affirmatively.
Harry looked at her nuzzle the kitten, the blood still dripping from her lips, plaster in her hair. The Whorecrux taking a little of her soul — it had unhinged her unexpectedly. He had to hope she wasn't too crazy for Tom's liking or he really would fuck up the timeline.
It'll be fine.
The kitten looked happy. That showed…something.
"You're, uh, feeding her?"
"Of course I am!"
The kitten licked the blood from her face, purring contentedly.
"See!" Bellatrix grinned.
Harry palmed his face. He'd hoped the kitten would make her less crazy, but of course she'd corrupt the kitty.
"Maybe she'd have been better off with Dolly." He muttered.
"Who's Dolly?"
He shivered. The love potion should have worn off by now, but he was still thinking of her as Dolly. Still thinking about those glistening fat rolls.
"Bella, beautiful, are you any good at memory charms?"
###
Hogwarts was weird. The atmosphere was still bubbly in the Great Hall. Rita Skeeter was hard at work — everyone's Prophet had at least a splatter of pumpkin juice from reading the headline. 'YOU UP? NURMENGARD'S RETIRED GUARD SPEAKS UP: 'THE DARK LORD BROKE IN EACH YEAR FOR GRINDEL-WINTER BOOTY CALL'.
There were titters and laughter, claps on Harry's back. In his mind, Tom raged, so angry that he couldn't muster a real sentence.
"I knew there was a reason You-Know-Who kept going after you, Harry!" Seamus cracked.
"He can join the queue, eh, Hermione?" Dean elbowed her.
She gave him a strained smile, sitting gingerly on the bench.
At the Hufflepuff table, Hannah was comforting Justin Finch-Fletchley. "It's alright, Justin. Nobody thinks that all gays are evil."
"Sooner or later they will — we'll be like Slytherins." He sighed heavily. "They won't even remember the good ones. You don't think Harry could turn out gay, do you?"
On his other side, Susan took a long drink of juice. "I…I think it's unlikely." The redhead said, blushing.
In the corridors, though, the mood was less jovial. Harry caught the mutters.
"How can we live a normal life with two of them?"
"I don't know how Dumbledore let this happen."
"I thought Grindelwald had, like, rotted away."
"Is Hogwarts safe anymore? It's two on two."
Two on two. That was how they saw him now — on par with Dumbledore and the Dark Lords. It told in how they interacted with him — they gave him the best cauldron in Potions, the best telescope in Astronomy. At breakfast, the eggs and toast stacked up where he sat. On his way to Charms, Harry walked around a corner and got hit by a charm to colour his hair blue — the young Ravenclaw boys were almost in tears as they apologized for pranking him. When the crowds parted for him, he felt like a predator.
Most of the time.
With some of the girls, he felt very much like prey.
On the way to the library.
"Hi, Harry." The Patils giggled as they passed, arm in arm, skirts swishing. He gave them a tight smile — he'd been too nice with them, too Dumbledore-esque. It was time to up the ante, to move up the timeline they tried to delay. With Grindelwald out, he needed more power. He'd do it now, if it weren't for the fact that his cock was drained and limp.
In the library.
"Hi, Harry." Tonks twisted a curl of hair around her finger, leaning back on her chair — her skirt shorter as her legs grew longer. How desperate would she become? Only in her desperation would he understood what she was up to.
Outside the greenhouse.
"Hi, Harry." More twins. The Carrows, holding their school books to their chests, their fringes touching their eyebrows. "We're so glad you're okay." They said in unison.
Harry shivered as they passed. The twin-speak thing was creepy. He wondered idly if they screamed in sync.
Coming out of the bathroom.
"Hi, Harry." Ginny fluttered her eyelashes. "You're so incredible, fighting off the two Dark Lords."
"Oh, uh, thanks Gin."
"Have you been working out?" She blushed. "I mean, you just look really healthy, that's all. I m-mean, just keep it up, whatever you're doing." She dashed away.
Harry sighed as he watched her go.
The girls of Hogwarts — beautiful peaches waiting to be picked. But some of them were rotten at the core. Worms, parasites. Which of them were fresh and sweet and which of them would make him sick?
Late night in the Owlery. Harry had taught the French owls that belonged to Marie, Fleur and Apolline to wait in the Owlery for him, instead of delivering at breakfast — a lot of students did the same, not wanting their friends to see what they'd ordered. Harry just didn't want anyone seeing what his French sluts had sent — Marie, Fleur and Apolline usually just sent him love letters and racy photos, but he'd had to set up the Owlery reroute when he opened an envelope from Fleur containing a musky, soaking wet pair of panties.
"Ow—" He smacked head first into Pansy, knocking her to the ground.
"Oh, sorry." He held out his hand.
"Fuck off, Potter."
"Whoa, easy. Are you okay?" He studied the nasty bruise forming on her head. The bruise was swimming strangely on her skin — like half of it was layered behind the other.
A glamour.
It wasn't unusual. Hannah had burst into tears when he'd used a Finite on her, sensing something amiss, and found a little glamor she was using to cover up a spot. A pimple patch, she called it. She'd calmed down only when he'd told her that she was still impossibly sexy and that he had a homemade facial cream for her.
Pansy's patch seemed to be a lot larger, though.
She smacked away his hand and pulled herself out. Behind her, he could see a bunch of open packages and blank-looking owls. Odd.
"What do you want, Potter?"
"Well, now that you mention it, do you know where Draco is? I owe him a friendly spell or five, for making that attempt on my life."
She sneered. "I don't know where that useless prick is and I don't care either. Now get out of my way."
Harry blocked the archway. "Hold on, sugar-tits." She had narrow eyes and a wide pug nose, but he liked the way her porcelain skin reddened when he insulted her.
"Look at me, Potter — why'd you want to bother me when you've got all your trophy whores?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. What sort of girl called attention to her own plain looks? It was rare, admittedly — magic enhanced beauty, so almost all witches looked better than a Muggle, but he'd never thought Pansy to lack self-esteem. He'd never thought much of her at all, in fact — Draco's ugly girlfriend who only smiled when he gifted her things. Hermione had liked her to a crow, with her beady eyes and attraction to shiny jewellery.
He looked over her shoulder again at the open packages.
"What do you think of the Carrow twins?" He said suddenly.
"What?"
"I'm interested in your opinion," he said simply, "my fiancée thinks they're shady. Their parents are Death Eaters, naturally. The twins want me to believe they aren't their parents. I don't know what to believe." He shrugged. "So I'm asking you."
Pansy stared at him, nonplussed. "Why would you believe me?"
"You mean, why would I believe you when your Daddy's a Death Eater?"
"Father isn't a Death Eater." She said automatically.
"Sure he's not." Harry nodded. "But even if your family isn't the richest, you'd still be getting a stipend from your parents to keep you in perfumes and fashions. Purebloods have to look pureblood, after all." He gestured with his chin at the packages behind her. "And you're not getting the family money, if you're desperate enough to open the packages that people receive in the night, so you must have pissed off Daddy. He's mad that you're not following in his footsteps?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh." Harry admired the quiet Owlery — usually the owls screeched and pecked if you took their parcels. "What did you do? A Calming Powder on the owls?"
He pushed past her.
"Stop it, Potter, I don't know what you're—" She said frantically.
"What are people buying? Clothes, ooh, sexy lingerie. Heels. Blended Honeywater and Abraxan hair skin cream? I think Daphne uses that." Harry had rubbed it into her buttocks after his last brutal disciplining session, to soothe the pain.
"I was just looking, it's a prank—"
"Of course it is." Harry nodded. "I don't care — tell me about the Carrows."
Pansy glared at him, clenching her fists. She was smart enough, at least, not to draw her wand. She blew out a long breath, blowing her fringe up. "Put it this way, if you ripped their hearts out, you could sell them at Borgin and Burkes. That's just how they were raised — that whole family is rotten to the core. Peel down their knickers and you'll find a Crucio instead of a cunt."
Harry snickered. "You have a way with words, Pansy darling. Thanks for the tip."
"Don't try and sweet talk me, Potter — I'm not going to fawn over you or flash you my panties with every step like the sluts that infest these hallways."
"I'm glad to hear it." Harry said, amused. He felt more comfortable with a girl with hate in her eyes — it was like his first train ride with Daphne. There was no chance of him being seduced into a cock-biting cunt if she didn't want him in the first place. "Here, take this."
He tossed her a velvet pouch of Galleons. He carried a ton of coin with him these days, with so many needy girlfriends. All of his girls had various excuses but the result was the same. Hannah said she needed money to fix her damaged hair, since he unloaded so often on her face and pigtails. Hermione said she needed money for books, since she 'couldn't get to the library, stuck in her bedroom due to his high-testosterone sexual requirements'. Daphne had simply told him that her family stipend didn't cover the cost of her looking 'extremely fuckable and expensive'.
Pansy caught it, but her rage only intensified. "I'm not your whore, Potter!"
"I know." He shrugged. "But you seem like you need it and believe me, I won't miss it. If you don't want it, just leave it on the ground or donate to a fund for Draco's future funeral." He blew her a kiss. "See you around, Pansy."
He didn't need to hang around to know she'd take the money.
###
Two days later, Pansy came to him in the Owlery, long after curfew. He was tying replies to the French owls — even a single sentence saying 'I'm thinking of you' would delight his girls. Marie got a much longer reply — he'd felt he had to write something more after reading her earnest two page love poem, the parchment wet with her tears.
He felt her behind him. "New shoes?" He noticed.
She ignored him. "The Carrow twins receive a long letter every morning, with a wax seal. The letters are probably instructions from their parents."
He hummed thoughtfully. "Or warnings to stay in line and join the Dark Lord's side — you get those, don't you?"
"I doubt it." Pansy sniffed, crossing her arms. "If their parents were mad at them, they wouldn't be wearing expensive new acromantula silk stockings."
Harry smiled at her. "Smart. Why didn't Daphne notice that?"
Pansy sneered. "Greengrass doesn't notice anyone beneath her, which, since you stuck a ring on her finger, is absolutely everyone. Plus, she's too busy tormenting Tracey."
"Thank you." He withdrew another heavy pouch of Galleons and tossed it at her.
She weighed it in her hand, emotions warring on her face. Shame and glee? He couldn't tell. "I-I won't do anything else for money, you know. You're not getting any handjobs or flashes — I won't even take a button off. Greengrass might be happy to sell her holes off, but I'm not."
"Message received, sugar-tits."
Her face coloured. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because I can?" Harry thought about it. "It's the power that gets to you, you know. Voldemort was probably nice until he realized he didn't need to be. Draco too. I have to be nice to all the others — they expect it from hero Harry. But you? You expect to be treated like dirt, like Draco treated you, like your parents treat you."
"Don't talk to me like that." She growled.
"You have to mean it, Pansy." He tutted. "Try again."
"I'm serious, Potter!"
"No, you're not. You're too smart — you're embarrassed but you know you can't draw your wand and you also know you need my money." Harry said plainly. "Sugar-tits, pug-faced whore, cunt. I can say anything."
She stared at him, her fists clenched, her body trembling. But she didn't pull her wand.
"I could be nice." Harry decided. "But I've seen recently that it's not getting me very far," he sighed sadly. "Relax, will you? I won't touch you, coerce you or hurt you. But the next bag of coins? You're only selling information and you only have what Daphne misses — and she doesn't miss much." He looked her up and down. "So what else are you gonna sell?"
Her eyes narrowed, her lips trembling in anger. "I'm…not…a…whore!"
"No," Harry agreed.
He pushed past her.
"…Not yet."
So sorry for delay - this site had me in a Cloudflare verification loop and I couldn't upload the chapter. Hopefully it should be okay going forward.
Hermione in her (w)hole. Next chapter - Slug Club, Alice is naughty, Ginny is naughty in a different way, the Dark Lords are naughty in a more evil way.
Want to see artwork of the Hermione scene and read who cums next? Check my profile bio. As well as see 50+ art pieces, including the girls in saucy Halloween costumes, as well as fun little sexy story scenes.
Free no strings art on my X right now, link in bio. Fleur as a French maid, Helena and Cissy in lingerie together and Daphne in a teddy - don't miss it. Just a taste of the many more elsewhere.