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Way of the Toad	By : LadyofClunn Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Blaise Views: 14461 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Harry Potter; I do not earn money by writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Way of the Toad
- 1
Written for the 2012 rounf of hp_kinkfest on LJ.

Warnings: Rape/non-con, date rape, betrayal, humiliation, bigotry/racism, substance abuse, making up about half of the effects of said substance, a recognised animal charity claims that the things I describe also constitute cruelty toward animals (toads), mention of sexual grooming, non-consensual involvement in pornography; mention of potential forced prostitution, completely unfounded insinuations of Trevor being a toad of the Bufo Alvarius variety, giving you nightmares about ever reading ‘The Frog Prince’ to your children

A/N: A huge thank you to partie_carree and clockworkwasp for the excellent beta and to willowfaerie2 and robs55 for alpha reading and feedback! I had not planned on writing for kinkfest this year, but could not resist the prompt.

Written for the 2012 round of hp_kinkfest on LJ.

Way of the Toad

“Don’t run away!”

Blaise jogged a few steps, turned around and trotted backward, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Really! Wait here, yeah?”

Hermione could but smile and nod. Blaise bounded around like a puppy, taking off in the direction of the Great Hall.

Standing alone in the entrance hall, Hermione’s mood sobered a bit. Suddenly feeling awkward, she started fussing with her snowy cloak, shaking and brushing at it.

She’d had such a lovely day in Hogsmeade. For the last two months, Blaise had been asking to let him accompany her. Time after time she had declined, suspicious of the Slytherin, Ancient-Runes-study partner or not. In the end, he had worn her down with gentlemanly manners and private smiles that he seemed to reserve for her in their study nook in the library.

He always stood respectfully when she entered their little library compartment complete with private desks, and was always prepared. His politeness had changed to friendly and comfortable companionship over the first few weeks of their project together.

Sometimes they would stay for hours in their bolthole after finishing their current parchment assignment, talking about anything under the sun.

Soon he was sending little notes by owl every evening. In her cloak pocket, she gently caressed the rolled up note he had sent yesterday, all cute and excited about their Hogsmeade rendezvous.

Hermione had hesitated to accept his invitation, still afraid of a Slytherin plot against her. How happy she was now to have taken the leap of faith!

She cast a drying spell on the places where the snowflakes had already melted on the wool of her warm winter cloak. They had overstayed at the Three Broomsticks and she was now late for her prefect’s rounds tonight. She was never late.

Blaise came running back with long strides, stopping to stand in front of her, a bit out of breath.

“There you are! You didn’t leave,” he beamed, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. “I asked Goldstein to swap rounds with me and he was only too happy to stay in his common room after being out in the snow all day.”

Blaise took her hand and pulled her gently toward him.

“Let’s go get this done. I brought some treats for us.”

Hermione’s heart fluttered and skipped happily. When she tentatively laced her fingers with his, he softly squeezed her hand.

They walked the corridors for more than an hour, the castle quieting around them.

All was calm in Hufflepuff. Now they walked the dark paths of Slytherin house. Laughing, Blaise had covered her eyes, telling her he had to check on a favourite snogging spot that he could not compromise to Gryffindor.

Hermione had laughed with him, feeling adventurous and happy.

“Would you like another of the ice mice?” Blaise rummaged in his bag for the sweet. “Or how about trying a ghostly mint? They are new, not really on the market, yet. My mother has... connections to a first-rate sweet maker.”

“A ghostly mint?” Hermione eyed the not-quite opaque, paper-thin bluish platelet. “What does it do?”

Blaise looked into her eyes, expression solemn. “It turns you into a ghost.”

Hermione cuffed his shoulder when he laughed at her wide eyes.

“It’s a mint. The world might take on a somewhat ghostly sheen for a while, though, and your night vision will improve somewhat.”

Hermione was intrigued.

“Really?”

“Indeed. You just put it on your tongue and let it dissolve.” He gestured for her to open her mouth and slipped the minty sweet inside.

The taste was sweet and sharp but not unpleasant. Within a few seconds, the damp stone walls started to glisten, the moss growing in between the stones taking on a ghostly glow.

“Oh!” she whispered. “Blaise, can you see that?”

With two fingers he tipped her face upward.

“Yes. Yes, I see it, Hermione,” he said, looking into her unfocussed eyes.

A silvery glow emanated from the mossy walls, the torches’ light reaching further than before but not actually illuminating the dark corridor.

Blaise took her by the elbow and steered her a few steps further into the shadows before whispering a password to the wall.

Hermione swayed slightly, leaning into Blaise’s hold. An elaborately carved wooden door emerged from inside the wall.

In the corners of the upper panel, wooden toads sedately turned on their webbed feet to look at the callers. A wizard clad in loosely belted robes sat up from a reclining position on his carved ottoman, regarding Hermione with an undisguised leer.

“One of the clouded heritage? Well done, young Zabini.”

Hermione heard the words but could not grasp their meaning. Somewhere, water dripped in the bowels of the dungeons and rats scurried on nimble feet. Unable to filter important from unimportant sounds, she was nearly overwhelmed by her own breathing. She wanted to hold her hands over her ears but her arms were sluggish and heavy and the rushing of blood through her veins threatened to drown her.

The door swung open; dazzling light and shrill laughter spilled out, washing over her.

Hermione closed her eyes, letting her heavy head fall against Blaise’s shoulder.

She hardly noticed being led into the light, led into the fire.

***

Colours-scents-sounds-no air...

And then an overwhelming wave of toobrighttooloudtoomuch.

The green of the velvet curtains and cushions, the light of the many floating candles, the air heavy with smoke and sweat and sex assaulted her.

Hermione sagged against Blaise as her knees gave out.

He grasped her under her arms and held her unceremoniously upright.

“Merlin, Blaise. I thought you’d never get around to it. You’ve been working on her for what...two months now?”

Draco Malfoy lay in one of the small alcoves, little more than wide stone benches padded with several carpets and thin, satin-covered mattresses. A girl with sleek, black hair knelt at his side, her head resting on his thigh. Not far from the girl’s face, a green toad sat in Draco’s curved palm, he stroked the animal with gentle touches.

Blaise made his way to a pile of cushions in the middle of the opium den-like chamber.

“Shoo.”

Two sixth years scrambled to make space and Blaise kicked a large, tasselled silk pouf to the side, only to drop Hermione onto the soft pile. Her head lolled and one of her legs fell to the side. Wearing jeans and not her uniform skirt, her position was not exactly obscene but it suggested interesting things to come. The gathered students rearranged themselves for a better view. Just in case.

“More than three months, since beginning of term, as you well know, Draco. She’s a smart one, not as easy as your usual Hufflepuff fare.”

“You’ve lost your touch, old friend.”

“I beg to differ,” Blaise replied dismissively and started untying Hermione’s boots with his wand. Levitating piece after piece of clothing to fold itself neatly on top of a low wooden table with sturdy curved legs, he turned to his friend. “To catch the most timid fawn, the hunter needs to be patient.”

“Well, then, what are you waiting for?”

Draco took his hand off the toad and slid his fingers into his girl’s hair, lifting her head and tilting it back. When he held out the toad to her, its feet dangled in front of her face and she desperately tried to touch one of them – a leg, any part of it – with her tongue. Bored with her efforts, he offered her the amphibian’s neck and she lapped greedily at the slimy skin.

Blaise undressed with care and crawled to kneel between Hermione’s legs, bracing his hands on either side of her face.

Hermione blinked, trying to shield her eyes and ears from the constant onslaught of sensory input but unable to move beyond lifting her fingers a few centimetres off the cushion before flopping back down.

Blaise stroked his knuckles along her cheek and she shook from the sensation. Hermione keened in what sounded like pain.

“Ssshh, Hermione. It’s me, Blaise. You’re all right. It’s just Blaise. It’s okay to take some rest. Close your eyes, Hermione, I’ll watch over you.” The frantic movement of her eyes under her closed eyelids quieted and she stilled.

Taking hold of her ankles, positioning her feet wide apart, he drew two fingers through her slit and separated the folds of her sex. Moisture was glistening between the dark curls.

“I love the way of the toad.” Blaise stuck a finger in his mouth. Wet, he slipped it inside her, working her, encouraging her body to provide even more lubrication. Hermione’s breath grew short and shallow. Every now and then, she keened at the exhale. “It does all the work for you.”

Draco Malfoy leaned forward, watching his friend finger the Mudblood. “Just as bad down below as up on top.” He dropped back into his silken pillows. “Do you need a machete, Blaise?”

“Hardly.” He rose up on his knees and stroked his erection a few times. “I find it rather endearing that she didn’t think it necessary to prepare for me.” He pushed inside.

Tighthotslick.

The body flailed helplessly.

Somebody had been there before him. Potter? Weasley? He thrust into her without restraint. Krum??? He wanted to stab her with his cock. How dare she lessen his triumph because she hadn’t kept her damn legs shut.

“I am going to fuck you so hard that you will have phantom pain of my cock for the rest of your life,” he rasped into her ear.

Maybe he would have some blood to show in the end after all.

He grasped her legs behind her knees and leaned his full weight on her, folding her in half. He wanted to force her womb back. Wanted to feel a shift, a snap, something giving way.

Hermione’s body convulsed, a tortured wail escaping her.

“Draco! Keep her high for me, will you?”

Draco shoved the black-haired witch aside and walked over to the copulating couple.

Theodore Nott massaged the glands of his toad, smearing the clear liquid he milked from it over his cock. The girl at his feet opened her mouth wide, eyes hopeful. Not even looking at her, he guided the movements of her head, while his eyes were riveted to the spectacle Blaise provided tonight.

Kneeling down at Hermione’s head, Draco massaged his toad’s glands with careful, nimble fingers. Coating his fingers, he inserted them between her lips, choking her in the process.

“That’s it, Granger. Suck it all down. You are finally flying like a real witch; you don’t want to fall, do you?”

Tears spilled from under her closed eyelids. But the venom took effect, the strained flutter of her hands stilled and, for any onlooker; she lay still and slack in the soft nest of cushions.

Blaise could feel her muscles jump and fight under her skin, trying to pull away, to throw him off, to fight him like a wounded animal.

She could not.

He put even more pressure, even more of his body weight on her.

Put even more force into his fucking.

The venom made her vulnerable and defenceless against him. She, who had punched Draco Malfoy in the face, broken his nose, and utterly humiliated the proud boy.

It would be so much better with her awake, fighting back! Hurt and betrayal in those gullible brown eyes. Tears and snot running down her face. Hair wild and matted. Ugly Mudblood.

Rage spread inside him with a roaring force, making his fingertips vibrate with want. Breathing deeply, he forced himself to concentrate on giving his audience a good show, leaning back a little so they could watch his cock sliding in and out of her.

Maybe it was his own dose of toad venom, or the toaded mints he had invented had some sort of ghostly side effect after all. Like an image from another realm, he could see himself leaning forward, lacing his fingers into her awful hair, pounding her head against the flagstones until a dark halo of blood would bloom around her.

Breathing harshly, he had to pull himself back, realising that his fantasy had bled into reality. His hands were full of soft curls.

Time to finish before he lost himself. With one hand, he reached for her stiff nipple and twisted.

The body beneath him arched off the brocade-covered mattress and howled.

Her muscles clamped down around him and that, together with the poison in his blood, made him come in violent spurts.

When he could focus again, he felt clammy skin and cold sweat. Hermione was shivering violently.

“Can I fuck her mouth?” Draco still knelt close to Hermione’s head, now roughly stroking his erection.

“No.” Blaise slipped out of her and cast a cleansing spell over himself. “You will have to wait until I am done with her. Or groom your own Gryffindor.”

He walked a few steps to a small pond at one end of the cavernous room. Blaise lifted one of the toads resting on the stones between miniature waterfalls and pond lilies.

“There you are, Rana. Did you have a good day in the Grotto?”

The toad eyed him and croaked approvingly.

Blaise bestowed a soft kiss on the toad’s head before gently licking around its neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, setting her back onto one of the comfortable rounded rocks. Snatching up a goblet from a tray and downing it in one long gulp, he surveyed the scene.

Hermione was still spread out crudely, his seed and her blood seeping into the silk underneath her. He had been rough enough.

Good.

He wanted her to be sore for days, wondering why she was feeling under the weather.

He would know.

His house would know.

Several of his housemates were watching. Some of them openly, some carefully appearing only vaguely interested. The Pensieves would go wild with the memories. The Recollection Pushers’ eyes were already glued to the spectacle, calculating its worth per minute.

Both his royalties and house standing were going to be unparalleled!

“Help me flip her over. You can’t have her, yet, but you are welcome to be my souteneur, Draco.”

Together, they rolled her onto her front; the tasselled pouf under her hips elevating her. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaise saw two of the Rec Pushers taking up strategic positions in the chamber, ensuring the best views for their clientele.

Blaise motioned to Draco to take hold of one of her knees and pull it out.

With one hand, Blaise spread her cheeks wide. Careful not to obscure the view of the pushers, he stood to the side.

“Soon” he announced, gathering her fluids with his fingers and spreading them around her anus, circling and prodding the small hole.

“I’ll want an advance on that rec,” Blaise said to the main pusher, before he slapped Hermione’s upper thigh, leaving a bright red handprint. “And your best tongue-tying curse on every single recollection. It would not do for this to get out.” The pusher looked disappointed but nodded, signalling to the others to leave and prepare the night’s harvest for distribution.

“The day she offers to blow me to get toaded-out, I will sign her over to you,” Blaise said in the general direction of Draco, sticking his hand out.

“Agreed.” Draco clasped his friend’s hand firmly. A verbal contract in the Grotto was nearly as good as a wizard’s oath.

***

“Miss Granger, I would appreciate if you could direct your attention to the lesson.” Snape sneered at her down his nose. Hermione looked up and before she could even stammer out her mortified ‘Yes, sir!’ the professor inhaled sharply.

“Pack your things, Miss Granger, and move your equipment to Mr. Longbottom’s table, as you seem to have taken up the same pastime. I will not have exploding cauldrons all over the classroom. Thirty points from Gryffindor for being either stupid or gullible.”

Not understanding a word he was saying, Hermione complied, wide-eyed.

A half an hour later, she found herself reverently stroking the rim of her cauldron. Why had she never realised how amazing the iron felt under her hand? Why was it so hard to concentrate on brewing pepper-up potion?

Maybe it was still the cold she had come down with on Sunday. She had woken aching all over, her head heavy and slow. Her memories of Saturday night were hazy but Lavender had giggled and told her that Blaise had escorted her back to the tower after rounds and made sure that her roommates had tucked her into bed. Parvati had sighed and gushed about how caring he was.

Hermione smiled at the thought of the other girls’ envy. She was so lucky to have found Blaise!

A delicate origami crane floated past professor Snape’s turned back to land on her wrist.

With a soft nudge of its beak it settled and she gently unfolded the parchment bird.

Dearest Hermione,

I enjoyed our time on Saturday very much. Would you like to study together this Friday?

Love,

Blaise

Happiness surging inside her, Hermione looked at the Slytherin side of the classroom and gave Blaise a brilliant smile.

A/N: Although dogs have been known to lick wild toads for pleasure, please don’t go hunting for your next high just yet. It is easy to overdose on toad poison and I hear that being licked is a highly distressing experience for toads. So. Don’t try this at home!!
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Way of the Toad