Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 288817 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter belong to Rowling and the relevant corporations--though I doubt they want anything to do with this one. I make no money from the publication of this work.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Mother of Centaurs

Hermione couldn’t stop her tears from silently falling while she masturbated and sucked the horse-cocks of each Centaur in turn before they raped Harriet; but during “lunch-time” she kept them to herself and struggled to put on a brave face when she approached Harriet after each one to sate her hunger by gulping down the Centaur semen as it poured from Harriet’s vagina.
And despite being wet and cold, Hermione was thankful that her tears were lost in the freezing rain for Harriet’s sake. Hermione was also grateful that the next few Centaurs following Bane were much less violent towards Harriet, and she was surprised when after two hours had passed, the Centaurs paused to give Harriet a half hour break.
A palomino Centaur with long platinum blond hair and a kind face trotted over to Hermione and gently took her by the arm.
“Come, little one,” he said softly, leading her to the fallen tree trunk over which Harriet was stretched and bound. “Give comfort to your paramour during her time of rest.”
Then the Centaur lifted Hermione by her waist and set her lightly on her feet on the other side of the log. Hermione stood there gaping in bewilderment for a moment as rivulets of rainwater streamed from the ends of her bedraggled hair. Then she snapped out of it and darted over to Harriet’s head, which was lolling back against the tree-trunk, practically upside down.
Harriet’s eyes were shut, her breasts heaving as she took deep breaths of relief. Hermione leaned over and took Harriet’s head in her hands, tenderly stroking her wet hair and cheeks as she planted a kiss on Harriet’s parted, pouting lips.
“Hermione?” Harriet murmured, opening her dazed looking eyes.
“Yes, it’s really me. How are you holding up?”
“Er... I’m fine, really,” said Harriet, clearly trying to sound like she meant it.
“Oh Harriet!” Hermione squeaked, her heart breaking. And she gave her another kiss.
“I’m sorry,” Harriet murmured when Hermione released Harriet’s lips from her own.
“Whatever for?” she asked, caressing Harriet’s cheek some more.
“For telling you not to cry. It’s not fair of me to expect you to keep your feelings to yourself...”
“Ssh, it’s alright. It’s alright,” Hermione tried reassuring Harriet, giving her several kisses on the forehead. “I understand! I do! ... You just couldn’t bear seeing me cry on top of what you were already feeling.”
“Yeah... that’s true. I thought I could manage to cope better if I could make you feel better at least, but it still wasn’t right - I wasn’t right. ... I know I’ll get through this, but not if I’m feeling guilty...”
“Oh Harriet!” said Hermione again, smiling wanly at her. “You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about - whatever I can do to make this easier for you, I will...”
In that moment, it occurred to Hermione that there was something she could do which might be comforting, even if it was a bit of a strange idea.
“Er... I don’t suppose you’re thirsty, or hungry?”
“Oh, er... I guess I am a bit, funnily enough. Not much we can do about it at the moment though - unless I suck off one of the Centaurs,” Harriet added half-jokingly
“I’ve got a better idea actually...” Hermione stood up a bit straighter so that her breasts were dangling above Harriet’s face. “I just thought ... maybe it would be nicer for you to suck on one of these.”
“Oh!” said Harriet, looking rather taken aback. “Are you sure, Hermione? ... I mean, I know we’ve, erm... sort of sucked each other’s nipples a bit a few times, but that was before ... I thought, after this morning ... now that we can actually produce milk...”
“I’m very sure,” Hermione said firmly, interrupting Harriet’s anxious babbling. “You’re the only one I’d actually like to breastfeed. I know it sounds a bit weird, but I think it’ll make both of us feel a bit better - I’ve read that breastfeeding stimulates neurotransmitters that make mums and babies feel really good.”
“Erm, I have no idea what neuro-whatsit’s are... but it does sound kind of nice actually,” Harriet admitted, her cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, if you really don’t mind.”
“I really don’t,” said Hermione, shaking her dripping bedraggled head and giving Harriet a sad little smile.
Hermione leaned her back against the tree trunk and wriggled closer to Harriet until she could feel Harriet’s shoulder under her own shoulder blade and Harriet’s wet hair against the side of her ribcage. Then Hermione lifted and tilted Harriet’s head with her hands until Harriet’s face was pressed against her breast, bringing Harriet within reach of her stiffening pink nipple.

Harriet hesitated a moment, then she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around Hermione’s tender peak. She tentatively began to suck and Hermione felt a tingly little rush almost immediately.
Harriet began sucking her nipple more confidently when Hermione didn’t flinch or pull away. As she felt her warm milk filling Harriet’s mouth, Hermione felt an odd mixture of almost motherly affection and sensual pleasure. It easily felt as intoxicating and joyful as the few times they’d had sex together during lunch hour on weekdays, and Hermione felt more lovingly bonded with Harriet than ever.
In that timeless moment of shared warmth and comfort, the chill of the freezing rain fell away with the rest of the world. Blissful hours seemed to go by with Harriet suckling at her breast, and when Hermione was pulled back to reality by Firenze’s soft touch on her shoulder she was almost surprised that only half an hour had passed.
“It is time, little one,” said Firenze, an almost pained, apologetic expression on his face.
“Okay!” Hermione nodded and gently lay Harriet’s head back against the mossy tree-trunk.
She smiled wanly at Harriet and felt her eyes stinging with tears again. “That felt really nice for me, Harriet. I hope it did for you.”
Harriet grinned at her reassuringly.
“Yeah, I feel loads better now...Thanks Hermione!”
Hermione beamed, and as Firenze began to lead her away she heard Harriet quietly say, “I love you!”
Hermione halted, her heart soaring, and briefly looked back at Harriet.
“I love you too Harriet,” she said.
As the rain continued to plummet, Hermione resignedly returned to her task of masturbating and sucking the Centaurs’ penises. The afternoon dragged on, the sounds of the Centaurs thrusting and grunting and Harriet groaning and moaning were audible even over the heavy thrumming of the downpour.
Hermione had a fairly good mental clock and she reckoned it was about five P.M. when she heard some Centaurs arguing.
“...No, I think not,” she heard Ronan saying firmly, “You had your turn with the Potter girl, and even if there were no others who still had seed to sow, I think once with you was more than enough, Bane. ... You are not the only Centaur who has been aggrieved by wizards, and I know there are others who feel as you do, but that is why they have not been invited to join us today.
“To take out your vengeance on a foal is unbecoming and it would diminish us as a people if I allowed you to continue to vent your frustrations on her. I allowed you the one opportunity, because it was only fair for a representative of those among us who are the most discontented with our lot in this world to participate...”
“Bah! You’re almost as bad as Firenze,” Bane snorted. “The girl is a non-breeder. How often do we have such an opportunity?”
“Thankfully, almost never,” Ronan retorted calmly, raising his eyebrows pointedly. “Think you that the Great Earth Mother would approve of harming an innocent? ...”
“Ridiculous! The witch cannot be harmed - the crafty old wizard made certain of that, as he does of all those he brings us...”
“If you truly believed that only spilled blood and broken bones constituted harm, you would not have even thought to punish the foal for the sins of her forebears. Though he shall never hear it from my lips, Hagrid was quite correct - physical pain and emotional anguish are harm enough.
“In any case, the Potter girl is as much a child of the Earth Mother as are we all. Our wrath we save for those who would cause us harm today - it is not for those who have never harmed us at all.”
“But, Magorian...”
“Enough!” For the first time, Ronan’s voice rose dangerously and Hermione felt a little shiver of fright. “My authority in this matter comes from Magorian himself!”
Ronan’s deep, cold tenor was somehow an even deadlier sound than Bane’s bellowing, and Hermione was glad that Ronan was more on her and Harriet’s side than Bane’s.
Bane snorted again, but he seemed to know better than to challenge the other Centaur when he took that tone. Bane shook his head disdainfully and stomped his hooves angrily as he departed the clearing, crashing through a thicket of bushes.
Ronan watched Bane until the furious Centaur was gone, then he pensively eyed the Centaur who was currently fucking Harriet. After a few minutes had passed, Ronan seemed to have reached some sort of decision and his voice rang out across the rain-soaked glade.
“When Demetrius has finished sowing his seed, we are finished here. Enough is enough...”
“But what about the rest of us?” moaned a dun-coloured Centaur, “and there are more besides waiting to join us for the evening session...”
“Some of you have wives do you not? And does not the herd have Concubines available for your mating days? ... We have taken far more from the foal than we would ever demand of our own - far more than most can endure without great discomfort...”
Hermione was flabbergasted, not quite believing what she was hearing. She noticed that many of the admonished Centaurs looked suitably chastened, though very disappointed, and stopped sucking the Centaur cock in her mouth.
“Er... but what about Dumbledore?” she hesitantly asked, not sure that she should be looking a gift-horse in the mouth - so to speak. “He’s, erm... sort of expecting you lot to keep at it with Harriet all night, isn’t he?”
“Dumbledore may be the headmaster of Hogwarts - but he is not our master,” said Ronan simply. “He has been generous enough to the Centaurs that we may on occasion grant his requests, but only at our discretion... And my discretion tells me to end this now. Dumbledore does not have to know if you do not wish it. Certainly none here will speak of it...”
“Oh!” said Hermione, still feeling quite bewildered, “Er... Th-thank you!”
“You have my welcome, little one.” Ronan bowed his head slightly. “But if I may impose on you just a bit further, there is one thing you could do to show your gratitude which would assuage the disappointment of some of those assembled here ...”
“I’ll do it,” said Hermione quickly, understanding exactly what Ronan was asking; and in that moment she was so happy that Harriet wouldn’t have to endure another eleven hours of misery that she had no qualms about performing the task.
“You are certain? I have not yet spoken of my request.”

“You want me to suck off the rest of the Centaurs and bring them to, er... completion. I’ll do it - I don’t care how many - for Harriet’s sake!”
The seven or eight Centaurs who had yet to have their way with Harriet perked up again, apparently quite pleased with the potential arrangement.
“Ah, there are many more of us than those you see in this glade - I would not ask that much of you. But you do us and your loved one great honour by offering to do so...”
Hermione took to her chore almost eagerly, putting every effort into pleasuring the remaining Centaurs in the clearing. She stroked their enormous horse-members vigorously with both hands, applying her humid mouth and tongue to the crowns with abandon, putting aside her feelings of disgust at performing the task.
And presuming that she would go hungry that night otherwise anyway, Hermione even did what she knew most guys seemed to really enjoy. She took the heads of their penises as far into her throat as she could manage without choking (which wasn’t very far admittedly) and allowed them to spurt torrents of hot cum straight down her esophagus.
Then Hermione let them fill her mouth, gulping down several mouthfuls of Centaur semen before letting them finish off by spewing numerous great jets of spunk all over her face and hair. It was revolting, but it was well worth pleasing them for Harriet’s sake. And indeed, the remaining Centaurs couldn’t be more delighted with Hermione’s performance.
“Aaaah!” gasped one happily as his cock spasmed several more times in Hermione’s hands, dousing her face with a good quart of cum with every pulse. “You are quite expert at this, little one. I daresay that I have enjoyed this even more than I would have plundering your friend’s vessel....”
~o0o~
Harriet let out a long moan when she felt Demetrius blast his final load of sperm into her swimming womb as she was swept away into a delirium by yet another humiliating unwanted orgasm.
Her sodden head flopped back against the tree-trunk, her chest heaving rapidly, panting, the icy rain turning to steam when it struck her burning skin. Harriet had lost count of how many times the Centaurs had brought her to climax hours ago, more baffled than ever by her body’s betrayal.
That she could be brought to a peak by certain types of unwanted stimulation, Harriet understood - such as the first few times the house-elves had fucked her bottom-hole and pussy at the same time - and she could even understand why having her clit and nipples rubbed nearly raw by the coarse bristles of the Centaurs’ underbellies would bring her off.
But she would have thought that the great discomfort of being penetrated and filled by three foot long horse penises would have killed any possibility of finding any pleasure in the act. It just didn’t make any sense to her at all - and that made her mortification at being brought to orgasm a thousand times worse.
As she lay there dazed, the rain pelting her face and a river of horse-semen gushing from her throbbing vagina, Harriet was simply grateful that none of the other Centaurs had been anywhere near as brutal as Bane. She didn’t think she could have coped at all if they had all been just as vicious and violent. Many had even introduced themselves by name and had been surprisingly grateful upon completion, as Demetrius was being right now after climbing off her.

“Many thanks, Earth Sister,” said the piebald Centaur as he kneeled on his front legs behind her and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “May you be blessed by the Great Earth Mother for your sacrifice.”
Harriet really had no response; she felt utterly confused, and even more perplexed when Demetrius began untying her wrists and felt another Centaur untying her ankles. It wasn’t even dusk yet.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she asked weakly.
“Ronan has determined that your time serving our carnal needs is complete,” Demetrius replied. “A no doubt wise decision, despite your remarkable stamina for one of your age. Your headmaster’s request was unnecessarily extreme, even by our libidinous standards...”
“Excepting for those such as Bane, who would have seen you rutted til the morrow morn,” said the familiar looking Centaur who had just untied Harriet’s ankles; then she remembered the kind looking Centaur who had brought Hermione to her earlier that afternoon, Firenze.

“Really?” Harriet gasped, blinking up at him through her rain blurred vision. “You mean it’s really over?”

“Truly, it is finished, little one.” Firenze gave her a sad little smile.
Harriet tried to sit up, wanting to rub her sore wrists and ankles, to say nothing of her aching abdomen and scorching labia, but just lifting her head from the tree-trunk sent a wave of vertigo through her and she fell back limply as the world spun.
“Remain still,” said Firenze. “Demetrius speaks truly regarding your stamina, but you must give yourself time to regain your strength before moving of your own accord. Leave it to me to make you more comfortable.”
Harriet felt herself being swept up in Firenze’s arms and then being set down gently, upright with her bum resting on soggy ferns and her back leaning against the soaked mossy bark of the tree-trunk. She still felt extremely dizzy and too feeble to move a muscle, but it was a major relief to have the world looking right-side-up again and to not have the rain pouring down directly onto her face.
She sat there listlessly, exhausted, feeling strangely comforted when Firenze knelt down again and almost tenderly brushed the wet strands of hair from her eyelashes and cheeks as he peered at her with concern.

“Rest here for a while,” said Firenze. “Your companion remains busy, but it should not be long before she has brought the rest to completion.”
“Huh?” was all Harriet managed to say, giving Firenze a puzzled look.
“There were a number awaiting a turn with you, already at half-staff,” Firenze explained. “When Ronan put a halt to the proceedings, your beloved generously agreed to finish them off by hand and mouth.”
“Oh!”
Harriet still felt a bit bewildered; she was too woozy to make much sense of what was going on, not to mention that her feet and hands were now tingling with pins and needles as the numbness in them from having her ankles and wrists bound wore off.
Now that the rain was out of her face, Harriet could appreciate it more as it cooled her chafed front and burning vulva (from which much semen was still draining, puddling between her thighs). And when the pins and needles wore off, Harriet had regained just enough energy to draw back her knees to her chest and begin rubbing at her ankles and wrists.
Harriet was beginning to properly regain her faculties after what must have been another half-hour as dusk seemed to now be approaching, and the icy rain was beginning to feel cold again. She heard rapid footsteps on soggy leaves and twigs and looked up to see Hermione running and beaming at her.
Hermione was covered in Centaur semen and was doing her best to wipe some off her face but Harriet didn’t care - she just wanted one of Hermione’s hugs. She struggled to get to her feet only to have her knees give out on her. Hermione reached Harriet just in time to catch her.
Harriet immediately wrapped her arms around Hermione’s sticky, cum drenched body and clung to her shakily.
“I can’t believe it,” she murmured, “I thought I’d be at this all night.”
“It was Ronan,” Hermione squeaked, sounding happy and teary all at once. “He thought you’d had enough. They may be a randy lot, but loads of the Centaurs are nicer than I thought they were at first - all things considered. Are you alright then?”
“Yeah - well, not so bad anyway,” said Harriet. “Bane was really the worst - the rest hurt a bit, but not nearly as much, and at least they weren’t mean and horrible about it...”
“Come little ones,” said Firenze. “Wash off in the brook that you may sooner bed down in the warm and the dry.”
Hermione half carried Harriet to the little burbling stream and once they had both rinsed off all the dirt and semen Firenze scooped them both up onto his back. He trotted into the thick of the forest and ventured along a path with numerous twists and turns that grew craggier and steeper as it began climbing up the side of the mountain buttressing Hogwarts.
It was nearly dark by the time they reached a cave in the side of the mountain, animal pelts sewn together hanging like a curtain across the entrance. It was homey and warm inside, lit by candles,smokeless torches, and flames crackling in a hearth hewn from the rock.
Harriet was shivering now, finally noticing just how cold she really was and relieved to finally be in, out of the rain. Hermione was shivering too, but her attention had been caught by a large bookshelf at the far end of the cave behind a low oak table.
“Please, be seated by the fire - dry yourselves,” Firenze offered, “Eleanor will bring you food and drink.”
“Eleanor?” asked Hermione as she and Harriet sat cross-legged on a pile of cozy furs near the fireplace.
“My wife,” said Firenze, “Ah, there she is now.”
“Hello,” said a shy sounding voice.
Harriet was startled to see a buxom blonde haired girl of about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a very short dress made of pelts, emerging from a large, carved entryway behind them. Hermione looked no less stunned than Harriet.
“Oh... er, hi!” said Harriet lamely, too confused to think of anything else to say.
“Eleanor, this is Harriet Potter and her mate, Hermione Granger,” said Firenze, by way of introduction. “They will be spending the night with us. If you would be so kind as to see to their needs, I will look after Michael in the meantime.”
Harriet gawked as Firenze passed through the entryway into what she now realised must be his and Eleanor’s bedroom. She turned pink, feeling too embarrassed to ask some of the most obvious questions. Eleanor blushed too and turned her attention away from the pair of naked younger witches to a cast-iron wood stove upon which an enormous iron pot was bubbling.
“I hope you don’t mind rabbit stew,” said Eleanor as she stood on a little stool to stir the pot with a wooden spoon. “And I can put on a kettle for some tea if you’d like.”
“Er... that would be lovely,” said Hermione squeakily; Harriet could see that Hermione was bursting at the seams with curiosity.
Several minutes later, after the kettle had boiled, Eleanor brought three large steaming mugs over to the fireplace and sat down cross-legged next to Hermione and Harriet, passing each of them their own mug. All of the young witches were very red-faced, and couldn’t quite meet each other’s eyes.
Hermione took a sip of her tea and broke the awkward silence, finally asking what she and Harriet were dying to know.
“So... er, you and Firenze...?” Hermione began.
“You want to know how we came to be, don’t you?” said Eleanor, half-smiling. “I’m not a slave if that’s what you think - not really - not anymore, anyway. I’m a muggleborn like you two, obviously - and the Ministry gave me to the Centaur herd along with three other muggleborn girls a few years ago.
“Like everyone else, I had been expecting to be going to Hogwarts after I got my letter, and it was a horrible shock when it turned out instead that we were among those chosen by the Ministry to be sold off as sex-slaves. I was even more frightened when that old wizard - Dumbledore I think his name was - brought me and the other three to be the property of the Centaurs...”
Eleanor paused for a sip of tea, glancing at Harriet and Hermione sadly.
“It was pretty rough at first,” she continued. “All four of us were, erm... ‘deflowered’ in a sort of ritual that very first day, and then we were kept with a group of other girls - Concubines they called us. After that first day, all the girls would be brought to the clearing in the forest once a day and forced to have sex with the Centaurs.
“...Not with all the Centaurs at once mind you. There would only be as many Centaurs as there were Concubines, We’d each be taken by one Centaur a day, and then have to do a different Centaur the next day and so on - they have a sort of schedule so that all the Centaurs end up getting a turn with us.
“It was horrible and I cried for weeks. But after a while I suppose I just got used to the routine - we all do in the end. ... Sleep, get up, make breakfast, hang out together for a bit and play games, read books, have sex with a Centaur, make dinner, go to bed, do it all over again the next day. ... Just on and on like that for ages and ages. Anyway, last year I finally got pregnant...”
Harriet’s jaw dropped in shock.
“Hang on!” she blurted out, unable to help herself. “You got Pregnant? ... with a Centaur baby?”

Eleanor bit her lip and nodded, blushing again and smiling.
“Yes - it’s how Centaurs procreate. ... Apparently they can mate with mares or with human females. They much prefer human females because we’re people, not dumb animals. It sort of makes them feel lesser to have sex with horses, but that’s what they have to do for the most part just to keep their species going.”
“Wow! ... That’s just... wow!” Harriet was thunderstruck, and judging by the appalled expression on Hermione’s face, she was too.
“Yeah,” Eleanor sighed, “That’s how I felt too when I first found out that we were basically the human equivalent of brood-mares. But the upshot is, when one of us gets pregnant with a Centaur’s baby, we get to choose whether to marry the father, or whether to stay a Concubine.
“What we choose usually depends on how nice the Centaur is. Most of them are alright actually, but there are a few who are really horrid and vicious...”
“Like Bane!” Harriet muttered angrily through gritted teeth.

“Like him, yes. Bane’s disgusting!” Eleanor agreed, nodding. “I don’t know a single girl who would choose being married to him over being a Concubine. I got really lucky to have Firenze’s baby. Firenze is one of the nicest Centaurs there is - he’s really sweet. So I chose to marry him...”
“It’s not much of a choice though, really, is it?” said Hermione, who was bristling with outrage. “I mean, it’s not really a free choice if you’re a chattel slave and your only two options are slavery and what amounts to a forced marriage!”

“That’s very true,” Eleanor admitted ruefully, “and for the most part, most of us are just settling for the better option of the only two available. But I can honestly say that I love Firenze. At first I just really liked him when I chose to marry him, but I really fell in love with him after. ...He’s so kind to me - he treats me really nicely and he said I could go free if that’s what I wanted.
“But even if I thought I’d be safe in the wizard world or the muggle world, I still wouldn’t even want to leave him. I can’t imagine finding anyone nicer to be with, human or otherwise. ... And now that we have Michael, the only things which would make me even happier would be being free to go out and about every once in a while and do things like a normal person without being afraid of the Ministry, and having my parents back - well, my mum anyway - my dad ran off with another woman when I was little.”
“I’m getting out of here soon,” said Harriet darkly, feeling a depth of fury that put Hermione’s outrage to shame; and even though she could understand really liking Firenze - especially given his offer of freedom - it still seemed more than a bit disturbing to her that someone would marry one of their rapists and actually love them.
“Hermione and I are both getting out of here!” Harriet amended herself. “And when we do, we’re going to figure out a way to set things right in the wizard world! That’s a promise! If I can help it, you’ll get a chance to see your mum again!”
“Er... well, that would be really nice,” said Eleanor, her tone skeptical.
“If any witch could do it, it would be this one,” said Firenze, who had just re-entered the main part of the cave with something in his arms. “She has great power hidden within her, which will show itself when the time is right. ... She is the one who defeated the Dark Lord...”
Eleanor gaped at Harriet in surprise.
“Wait, you’re Harry Potter then? I mean, I’d heard about you while I was being processed by the Ministry my first few weeks in the wizard world, but I thought you were a boy...”
“It’s a long story,” Harriet muttered.

“I’d really like to hear it if you don’t mind,” said Eleanor. “You can tell me while I feed Michael, and then we can have dinner.”
When Firenze set the little bundle he was carrying on Eleanor’s lap Harriet suddenly realised that the bundle was actually a baby Centaur - an adorable little palomino with blonde hair. Eleanor undid one of the straps of her dress and flopped out one of her boobs; the infant Centaur felt his mummy’s nipple pressed against his mouth and hungrily began suck. Eleanor positively glowed, beaming as she cuddled her baby and let him feed at her breast.
It still seemed weird to Harriet, but it was very apparent that Eleanor truly did love Firenze and that she was exceedingly happy being the mother of a Centaur. Harriet’s anger melted away as she watched Eleanor feeding her baby.
She shared a look with Hermione, both of them turning pink and grinning at one another, remembering how they had spent their respite together earlier that afternoon. Harriet rather hoped that they would have a bit of alone time later that evening; she was looking forward to reciprocating and breastfeeding Hermione...
~o0o~
It was after dark when the coach finally pulled into Leeds; the journey had been about ten hours including an hour stopover in Edinburgh. The only good thing about the long trip was that Sirius Black had been able to get more rest, and have several solid meals, rebuilding his strength. Give it another day feeding himself up, and Black reckoned he should be able to apparate safely.
Black made his way around the lightly populated bus terminal and found the map and the schedules showcasing the local bus routes. He soon discovered the reason that the bus station wasn’t very crowded at this time of day; to his great annoyance, most of the routes servicing the smaller towns and villages near Leeds were already done for the day, including the village where he hoped Lupin was still residing.
He glanced around the station wondering whether he should try stealing a bicycle when he spotted a taxi-cab parked in a cab zone on the other side of the terminal, no doubt waiting for stragglers who had missed the last busses of the day.
“Excellent!” Black muttered under his breath.
Slinging his backpack over one shoulder, Black dashed across the station before any other stragglers could snag the taxi. He opened the back door of the cab and flung in his backpack and grocery bag before taking a seat and shutting the door.
“Where y’headed, mate?” the cabbie asked without batting an eye.
“Bramhope,” said Black. “I’ll give you the address when we get a bit closer,” he added, regretting that he’d have to use his wand yet again to impose on the unwitting kindness of strangers when the cab ride was finished.
About twenty minutes later, he stood outside the painted white door of a little cottage on the outskirts of the village while the cabbie waited - just in case. Taking a deep breath, Black rapped the brass door-knocker loudly, hoping that Remus wouldn’t just murder him on sight. His heart fell when a portly, balding, middle-aged man in periwinkle blue robes opened the door.
Black swallowed nervously when the man, obviously a wizard, eyed him suspiciously, and he suddenly realised that he should have disguised himself a bit with some transfigurations.
“Evenin’... Can I help you, mate?” the wizard asked, sounding mildly annoyed.
“Er... Sorry to bother you,” said Black. “I’m looking for an old friend of mine - R.J. Lupin. This is the last address I had for him.”
“Missed ‘im by about five years,” the balding wizard snorted. “Dunno where ‘e went either, so don’ even bother askin’. But if y’do find that bleedin’ werewolf, tell ‘im he can sod off for not telling me about all the wood-rot. I ‘ad to fork out nearly five hundred galleons to get this place fixed up.”
“I shall be sure to inform him,” said Black politely through gritted teeth. “Thank you ever so much for your hospitality.”
“Yeah, sure!” the balding wizard grunted before shutting the door.
“Bugger! Fuck!” Black swore under his breath as he traipsed back down the gravelly driveway to the road.
“No good, mate?” said the cabbie.
“Unfortunately,” Black sighed. “Looks like my friend sold the place a few years ago without leaving a forwarding address.”
“Gah, that’s bollocksed that is! ... Right then, where to now?”
“Back to Leeds - a decent hotel, not too expensive.”
“Got it, I know just the place...”
Black sighed as the cabbie turned the vehicle around and began driving back the way they had just come. Now he was going to have to do a search - and he’d have to be more careful to keep his identity hidden. That meant hitting up a few pubs around Britain which catered to werewolves and others who lived on the fringes of wizard society. At least he knew where most of them were, he and James having accompanied Remus to the pubs on more than one occasion...
AN:
@ Bwinx32: Sorry to make you cry. :-( ... I guess that means I'm doing my job right though. Anyway, rest assured that escape and retribution are in the works.
@ Ladyedgecombe: Magic is all about intent--and Snape's intent would prohibit the use of anything as clothing. For example: Harriet and Hermione could lay under blankets for the purposes of keeping warm while sitting, lying down, and/or sleeping, but the moment they tried to use the blanket as clothing to get around in, it would vanish....
As to creative endings for the villains of the piece, well, lots of ideas, but in the end I'll just go with whatever fits the scene when I get around to writing it.
@ Pixel-King: That's a very good point, and one which I considered. Indeed, I have indicated that some girls would be interested.
The only reason it hasn't happened, is because the girls tend to be a bit more private and guarded than horny teenage boys. If they could get Harriet and Hermione alone, that would be one thing, but none of the girls are keen to put themselves on public display.
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts