Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hermione's Furry Little Problem	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 242840 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 20
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its associated properties. They belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 142
- 143
- 144
Ron Weasley glared at the heaping pile of scrambled eggs and bacon on his plate. It was just sitting there, mocking his clenching gut and pale countenance. He took a sip of pumpkin juice, hoping it would settle his stomach. When that didn’t work, Ron buttered a crumpet and contemplated taking a bite.
“Ye okay Ron?” Seamus asked sympathetically, after witnessing Ron staring at the crumpet in his hand for several minutes. “Come on mate... ye’ve got ta eat somethin'.”
“I... I dunno,” Ron muttered. “I’ve never felt like this before--not hungry I mean.”
“It’s alright Ron,” said Ginny kindly. “It’s just nerves. Don’t worry about eating breakfast if you’re not feeling up to it...”
“You seem alright though,” Ron scowled, wondering how Ginny could appear so calm. “Maybe something’s wrong with me...”
“But I am anxious,” Ginny responded, “This is my first real match too Ron...”
“You’ll be fine once you’re in the air,” said George encouragingly. “Everyone feels nervous their first time--right Fred?”
“Right on one George,” Fred agreed. “I threw up half a dozen times before my very first match... and we still clobbered the Ravenclaws 260 to 30.”
Ron looked even paler and George rolled his eyes at Fred.
Angelina thought that maybe it was time for her to step in and say something, “Whatever the final outcome is doesn’t matter Ron... Just remember that you made it onto the team on your own merits. I’ve seen you play, and you’re really good...”
“You’re more than good, you’re excellent Ron!” exclaimed Harry, interrupting Angelina.
Ron spun around in his seat, his eyes widened with surprise. Harry and Hermione both gave Ron an encouraging smile.
“That manoeuvre you performed the other day was brilliant,” Harry continued. “I know you can do this...”
Then to Ron’s shock, Hermione leaned in, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek as her furry tail twitched.
“We both believe in you Ron,” she said as Ron’s cheeks began to flush.
The Potters returned to the Mingling Table and watched Ron digging cheerfully into his heap of eggs and bacon from their seats.
“Thanks Hermione!” Harry gave his wife a grateful kiss. “You were right... he did need our encouragement! I hope I didn’t put you out too much though. I... I just thought a hug from you might do him some good...”
“It’s alright Harry...” Hermione purred and flicked her furry ears, returning Harry’s kiss. “I know I did it more for your sake--but I’d like to see Ron do well too...”

~o0o~

Draco Malfoy smirked as he flexed his prosthetic hand, the mechanical joints moving smoothly. He had this in the bag. He had been practicing all week and secretly put an extra-strength Gripping Charm on his broom. Once his hand was wrapped around the shaft, nothing would make it let go.
Draco heard a roar and looked up in the stands. His eyes narrowed when he spotted one of Harry Potter’s little girlfriends--the loony one--wearing what appeared to be a lion’s head for a hat while waving her own fluffy white tail. He snorted disdainfully and shook his head.
“Oi... Malfoy, you ready for this?” Montague barked,
“What...? Of course I’m ready!” Draco retorted with a sneer.
Draco wished Marcus Flint was still in charge. But despite being allowed back on the Quidditch team, Flint had declined to return to his captaincy after waking up one morning with his knees reversed, a faceful of octopus tentacles, and apparently something painful lodged in a very uncomfortable part of his anatomy.
By all indications, Graham Montague had been unwilling to give up the captaincy, after having taken over when Flint had been permanently suspended from the Slytherin team the previous year. For his part, Montague reckoned it was his turn now. As the Triwizard tournament had been in session last year, he hadn’t even had a chance to show what he was made of yet--and this was his chance.
Angelina faced off against Montague, and when Madam Hooch gave the order to shake hands, Angelina returned the Slytherin’s vice-like grasp with a crushing grip of her own. Rolling her eyes when neither team captain seemed willing to let go, Madam Hooch blew the whistle.
“And they’re off...” Lee Jordan shouted into the megaphone “ It looks like Montague has a broken hand, well-deserved after his own pathetic attempt to show up the exquisitely endowed Angelina Johnson...”
“JORDAN!” snapped Professor McGonagall.
“Sorry Professor...” Lee grinned sheepishly, “Anyway--Pucey in possession of the quaffle--intercepted by Alicia--she goes for a goal--Bletchly misses--10 points Gryffindor...”
The Unaffiliated enthusiastically joined in the raucous cheering for the Gryffindor team. Nearly everyone seemed to be rooting for them, as most of the students couldn’t bear the idea of a Slytherin victory--especially with Malfoy back on the team. Only a few non-Slytherins appeared less than enamoured with the Gryffindor team.
“...Warrington with the quaffle now--he throws--smashing save by Ron Weasley--Angelina takes possession... fine legs on that girl, the Weasley Twins are lucky blokes...” Lee caught McGonagall’s steely glare and moved on “...Angelina passes to Alicia Spinnett--Spinnett cut off by Goyle--passes to Katie Bell...another one of Gryffindor’s finest lasses...Bell shoots--she scores... Gryffindor up by 20 now...”
The game was fast-paced and brutal as the players zoomed around the Quidditch pitch, and the Slytherins grew angrier as Ron Weasley prevented them from scoring time and again. Katie Bell had the quaffle once more; Goyle flew to intercept and barreled into her, nearly knocking her off her broom.
“...FOUL...” roared Lee Jordan “...blatant blatching by Goyle--yes, Madam Hooch agrees--Katie looks a bit dazed--takes a penalty shot.... Oooooh, too bad, saved by Bletchly...”
Angered by Goyle’s foul, when he next had the bludger in his sights Fred walloped the ball hard, aiming directly at the Slytherin beater. The ball slammed into Goyle’s head; he spun around and went into a nosedive as stars flew before his eyes, pulling up at the very last second.
Ginny and Draco Malfoy both circled the pitch, high above the stands, keeping their eagle eyes out for the snitch. Ginny spotted it first, hovering down the far end of the field, she sped towards it on the Firebolt which Hermione had given to her with Harry’s blessing. Draco cursed and put on a burst of speed.
Montague signaled Crabbe, but the idiot just stared back at him gormlessly. Rolling his eyes, Montague pointed at Ginny Weasley and mimed hitting her. Crabbe finally appeared to understand. He cut Ginny off and threw a savage elbow to her head.
“...COBBING BY CRABBE! ...” Lee Jordan bellowed.
Hermione hissed, her bushy tail taking on the appearance of an angry hedgehog. Harry nearly leapt out of his seat, wand at his fingertips. The crowd let out a chorus of boos, but McLaggen guffawed loudly, catching Harry’s attention.
“Bloody no-good cheating git!” Lee Jordan snarled, “As per usual, Slytherin proves that they can’t win with the talent which they don’t have...” McGonagall caught Lee’s eye again.
“...Just telling it like it is Professor...” Lee said assertively. Professor McGonagall really couldn’t bring herself to disagree.
This time Angelina took the penalty shot, but she was so angry that the quaffle went wide off the mark. As the play resumed, George tailed Crabbe. When the bludger came their direction, George pretended to let his Beater’s Bat slip from his hand. It flew from his grasp and hit Crabbe square in the face.
“Do that to my sister again and you’re dead Crabbe!” George whispered venomously when he flew over to the other beater, feigning a look of concern.
There was a brief timeout while Madam Pomfrey fixed Crabbe’s broken nose and wiped the blood off his face. But as nobody could prove that George had done it on purpose, no foul was called.
The game continued for another hour. The Gryffindors matched every brutal foul committed by the Slytherins, confident that Ron would prevent the Snakes from scoring a penalty shot--and every time, Ron proved that their faith was warranted.
The match was still 20 nil to the Gryffindors when Draco spotted the snitch hovering near the stands not more than ten metres below. Draco dove for it. Ginny Weasley was nowhere in sight and he knew the game was won. The match was his, Draco gloated to himself as he reached for the snitch with his real hand.
“Too bad that one’s not prosthetic too,” giggled Ginny as she plucked the snitch out of the air. “You might have stood a better chance of catching it...”
Draco gaped at her as a loud cheer went up from the stands. He couldn’t comprehend how she had managed to beat him to the snitch. Furiously he tried to grab at the tail of Ginny’s broom with his real hand as she completed passing him. His fingers grabbed air and he lost control of his broom.
Draco panicked and tried to let go of his broom so that he could tumble and roll safely. But the double-strength Gripping Charm on the broom prevented his prosthetic hand from releasing it. The broom spun wildly and flipped end over end as Draco crashed into the field.
When he came to, a few seconds later, Draco realised that his prosthetic hand was missing. He spotted his broomstick lying in splinters on the lawn, his prosthetic hand still attached to a piece of the broom handle.
Too angry to speak, Draco stormed off the field as the Gryffindors reveled in their victory. Draco fumed when he passed Ginny and Katie Bell hugging each other, gleefully leaping up and down. He caught the eye of Amycus Carrow and the Inquisitor nodded slightly. Draco felt slightly cheered, knowing that soon it would be his time, and then he’d teach those bitches a lesson that they would never forget.
The party in the Gryffindor Common Room after the match continued until dinner time, and the Unaffiliated had all been invited. Everyone had butterbeers, and flasks of firewhiskey were surreptitiously passed around. The prefects were well aware, but pretended to look the other way.
Dora and Daphne were forced to come to Fleur’s rescue, as a number of the older Gryffindor boys were gathered around Fleur trying to impress her. Meanwhile, Parvati and Luna were introducing Jennifer properly to Lavender Brown, who had invited her boyfriend Viktor to the celebration.
Ginny and Ron were both on the receiving end of intense adulation, and the youngest Weasley son lapped it all up, savouring the acclaim and glory. Ron was thrilled beyond measure when Viktor Krum shook his hand and offered his accolades.
But somehow, even receiving plaudits from his favourite professional Quidditch player didn’t mean quite as much to Ron as the praise he received from his once best-friend. Ron sauntered over to the Potters again, who were chatting with Dean Thomas and Susan Bones, whom Dean had invited to the party.
“Did you see that one save Harry...?” Ron crowed, almost spilling his butterbeer on Seamus. “I thought for sure I was gonna miss it--but then I thought, ‘use the tail’ so I whipped my broom around...”
“Yeah Ron, that was brilliant!” Harry acknowledged with a smirk. This had to be the third time that Ron had recounted that particular save to Harry.
Harry glanced at Hermione, but something had caught her scrutiny and her tail was bristling slightly. He peered the same direction, discerning immediately what had raised her ire. McLaggen and Towler were sitting on the edge of the landing above, feet dangling from the balcony. They were both nursing butterbeers and staring at Ginny Weasley who was snogging Neville silly.
McLaggen felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, suddenly realising that Harry Potter was glowering at him. With a scowl, McLaggen tapped Towler on the shoulder. They both stood up and departed, climbing the stairs to their dormitory.
Eventually, it was time for dinner and everyone giddily made their way to the Great Hall. As the evening meal concluded, the Twins invited the Unaffiliated back to the Gryffindor Common Room for their after-party, but they politely declined. The Potters turned in early, feeling both exhausted and slightly agitated.
“That was quite a match,” Harry murmured to his wife as she lay next to him curled under his arm with her head on his shoulder, kneading his bare chest as he gently stroked her bushy hair. “I’m really happy for Ron and Ginny...”
Harry left the “but” unsaid, knowing that Hermione understood.

~o0o~

Severus Snape awoke with a start. He sensed that it was well after midnight, but he knew immediately that something wasn’t right. At the conclusion of the Quidditch match yesterday morning, Severus had been left with a deeply unsettled feeling. But not because the team of the House for which he was the Master had lost the match.
To the contrary, he had felt a measure of satisfaction at the outcome. No, Severus had been disturbed because he had discerned that events were coming to a head. And now... now he sensed that someone else was in the room with him.
“Light!” Severus muttered, and the warm glow of the bedside lamp lit part of the room, casting eerie shadows. A tall figure stepped out of the darkness.
Snape’s eyes widened in recognition of the lanky wizard with long platinum blond hair pointing his wand at him. Wildly, Severus looked around for Narcissa, but she was nowhere to be seen in the bedchamber.
“Looking for someone?” snarled Lucius Malfoy, “My treacherous bitch of a wife perhaps?”
“She is no longer yours,” Severus said coldly as he quelled his disquiet. “Your loss was of your own making...”
“Perhaps so, old friend,” Lucius hissed sarcastically through gritted teeth. “And perhaps I shall make her mine again--if only to show her the true meaning of pain. As I intend to take back what is rightfully my property, like my home...”
“Where is she?” Severus asked calmly as he stared into Lucius’s glacier blue eyes. “What have you done with her?”
“Oh, nothing yet,” replied Lucius evenly. He tapped his temple with his forefinger “And don’t bother looking here. You will not find anything. My defences are strong.”
Severus cursed inwardly. Lucius was correct; Snape could not break through those walls--at least not without his wand. But there was something off about Lucius Malfoy’s demeanor.
“You don’t even have her do you?” Severus raised an eyebrow.
Lucius faltered slightly, wondering if his old friend’s abilities were more prodigious than he had believed. Lucius snorted.
“Heh, she will be mine again soon enough,” sneered the elder Malfoy, “Narcissa cannot evade Warlock Nott and the others for long. And after we find her, I shall... no... WE shall teach her a lesson that she will never forget, and then... then I shall put an end to her miserable life.”
Severus couldn’t help himself; his nostrils flared and a hiss of anger escaped. If only he had his wand.
“How did you get in?” he asked, stalling for time as he reached out with his mind to locate and retrieve his wand.
“This is my ancestral home,” Lucius sneered, “Did you really think that I wouldn’t have some means to get around the new wards? Now get up... slowly...”
Snape sighed. Of course--there must be a hidden tunnel which linked the estate to the outside world, one which even Narcissa had never been aware of.
“I suppose you have my wand already,” Severus muttered as he slowly climbed out of bed and pulled on his trousers. “...No doubt hidden in your robes. Quite stealthy of you I must say... How long have you been here?”
“Not long... but long enough,” Lucius smirked. “And nice try, old friend, but you shan’t be overpowering me and reclaiming your wand--I gave it to Nott to hold on to. Now move... we’re going to take a little walk and we’re going to find my ex-wife!”
At Lucius Malfoy’s wandpoint, Severus silently traipsed through the Manor House from room to room looking for Narcissa, and he dared to hope that she had already escaped. Perhaps she had got up to relieve herself and discovered that her home had been invaded.
“Well, somewhere on the grounds perhaps!” Lucius exclaimed wearily, “No matter... she shall not evade me forever, certainly not here, on my estate. Come on--outside!”
The blades of dewy grass felt cool under Severus Snape’s bare feet, and the chill of the night air crawled across his shirtless torso. Nearly fifteen minutes passed as the pair strolled across part of the lawn and through the gardens. A rustling sound behind some bushes caught both of their attentions.
“There you are Mr Malfoy... Sir,” said a pleased looking Snatcher with a shaved head. “We got ‘er... just around the corner. Me an’ Bob an’ your mate, Mr Nott... we caught ‘er tryin’ to get outta the gate not five minutes ago.”
“Very good...” a cruel smirk crept to Lucius Malfoy’s lips, “It would appear that the Minister’s recruitment efforts were not in vain. I must admit I had misgivings about the Minister’s plan to bring you and your... compatriots... into the fold.”
“Yeah... I suppose so,” snorted the hooligan clad in leather jacket, chains, and blue jeans. “Well, not alla us managed ta graduate from ‘ogwarts. But that don’t mean we didn’ learn nuffin’.. We know enough ta get by and make our way in the world quite comfortably really...”
The three wizards stepped around the corner of the hedge and spied two more wizards holding a witch in a nightgown at wandpoint further down the path.
“Severus,” moaned Narcissa, “I had hoped might have escaped...”
“And I... you,” sighed the Potions Master as he struggled to maintain control of his breathing and heart-rate.
“Yes... yes, this is all very touching, I must say...” Lucius sneered. “Much more intimate than I have experienced with my dear wife in many, many years... Well, I think I will enjoy a moment of ‘intimacy’ with you myself before I make our goodbye permanent... Narcissa...”
“And no doubt these fine young lads and Nott would like to join in the fun--Severus can watch. But first, perhaps a taste of the torment that your son and I have been forced to endure...”
Severus regarded the Snatcher named Bob, and Nott with a keen eye. There was something about the elder Nott which seemed odd--almost beseeching. Severus peered deeper into Warlock Nott’s unblinking eyes.
Nott Sr had been doing a lot of thinking during his travails in Azkaban, then Voldemort’s Army, and now the Minister’s service--a lot of soul searching. He had examined the wreckage of his life and found it wanting. He knew now where he had gone wrong, and though there was little hope for his own redemption, Warlock Nott still held out some hope for his son Theodore.
He had learned through the Minister, that his son had been captured by Dumbledore, and been given some measure of reprieve. Nott allowed Severus to see what he needed to see.
Lucius raised his wand and pointed it at Narcissa. “Crucio...” he incanted, and Narcissa fell to the ground screaming in agony.
Then something happened which Lucius had not anticipated. Nott flung Snape’s wand into the air and fired a green bolt of lightning at the Snatcher beside him. Severus summoned his wand from midair as the Snatcher named Bob fell dead.
“TRAITOR!” roared Lucius, as a green arc of magic leapt from the end of his own wand towards Nott.
As the light went out in Warlock Nott’s eyes, and his last rattling breath escaped his lips, his last thought was for the safety of his son and wife.
Enraged, Lucius whirled around to face Severus, but it was already too late. The bald-headed Snatcher beside him already lay dead, and the green lightning from Snape’s wand struck Lucius in the chest.
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Hermione's Furry Little Problem