Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 288609 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
- 18
AN: Introducing a bit of Male/Male action in this chapter.

Black Friday

Severus Snape was torn between malevolent glee as he savoured the images of Potter being violated for hours on end by the Giant Squid, and fury that Dumbledore had allowed Potter to escape being ravished by Professor Sprout’s new strain of Devil’s Snare.
“You promised...” he began, hissing through gritted teeth.
“I promised that I would double the length of the sessions,” the headmaster retorted, cutting Snape off. “I made no such promises regarding the number of tasks to which Harry would be subjected. I took Rubeus’s counsel under advisement, and deemed it reasonable.
“Harry is now prepared and will know what to expect this weekend, but Rubeus and Poppy made a good case for Harry’s need to recuperate and build his strength back up. And if Harry is to give a good performance on Saturday, he will need it, and by then you will be able to bear witness in person. ... You have something to look forward to, and that shall have to suffice. ”
“I suppose I can make do,” said Snape, sounding extremely disgruntled.
“Good!” said Dumbledore, “Because a potential problem looms on the horizon - it was discovered this morning that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban...”
~o0o~
When the cabbie had dropped Sirius Black off outside the hotel yesterday evening, Black had taken the precaution of casting a few transfiguration spells to disguise himself before checking in. His escape was sure to have been discovered by now, and his face would no doubt be plastered across the front page of this evening’s edition of the Daily Prophet.
And despite the fact that Fudge had come to believe in his innocence, the Minister of Magic would still be obliged to inform the muggle Prime Minister. By tomorrow there was a good chance that his face would be all over the muggle press too.
Having checked out of the hotel that morning, Black decided to try apparating, hoping that he wouldn’t splinch himself. He looked for and found an unoccupied alleyway not too far away with nothing but a cat and a few metal dustbins near the back door of a cafe. Black glanced around one more time to make sure he truly was alone, and then he vanished with a loud crack.
Black reappeared in a small wooded area on the outskirts of a picturesque little village near Liverpool. He took off his backpack, setting it and his grocery bag on the grassy ground, then patted himself all over.
“All body parts in place - check,” he said to himself, grinning. Then he rummaged in his backpack to find the little hand-mirror and peered into it, reassuring himself that his disguise was still in place.
Slinging his backpack over his shoulders again, Black traipsed into town to find The Stoat and Badger - a tiny little wizard pub which werewolves were known to frequent.
~o0o~
“That’s impossible!” Snape snapped, “Nobody escapes Azkaban.”
“And yet it is so,” said Dumbledore calmly. “In any case, we must remain alert - there is a good chance that Black will attempt to infiltrate Hogwarts to seek vengeance against Harry for defeating the Dark Lord...”
“So what?” said Snape. “I admit that I would prefer to see Potter suffer for the next seven years, but Potter’s death would be no great loss.”
Dumbledore sighed, raising his bushy eyebrows as he peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Snape.
“Severus, you know as well as I that the terms of the Prophecy stipulate that only Harry has the power to put an end to Voldemort. ... Yes, prophecies are a dubious business, many never coming to fruition, but in this case, Harry clearly fulfills the terms of the Prophecy, and has defeated Voldemort once already with what can have only been an immense outburst of accidental magic.
“Voldemort is here, now, in the castle, possessing a member of the staff - most likely Quirrell, though I have not ruled out the possibility that he may be possessing another - in an attempt to obtain the Philosopher’s Stone. It would not do for Black to murder Harry before Harry has a chance to put an end to Voldemort once and for all.
“After that? ... Well, it would be my preference also that Harry should continue to live as a Receptacle, being a supreme example to all of the benefits of the Grand Bargain. But yes, at that point, Harry would indeed be more expendable.”
“I see,” said Snape, a pensive expression crossing his features. “You mean to use the Stone to draw Voldemort out then, and give him the opportunity to attempt again to murder Potter.”
“Quite so.” Dumbledore nodded. “It is my well considered belief that the attempt will trigger another magical outburst from Harry, finishing off Voldemort permanently. Once Harry has done so, and his spontaneous eruption of magic has dissipated, it should not take too much effort to keep Harry under control - the Compulsion Collar will see to that.
“And then - as long as Black does not murder Harry, and as long as we still have Miss Granger as leverage against him - we shall both have what we want, a compliant Harry Potter whose status as a Receptacle will be an object lesson to all muggleborns and thus maintaining the stability of British wizarding society.”
“Yes,” said Snape stiffly, “I concede that your plan has merit, and that it is best for Potter to survive.”
“I am glad that you think so,” said Dumbledore wryly, a twinkle returning to his eyes. “Now, I suppose I should leave you in peace to savour the images of Harry’s session with the Giant Squid in private.”
Once the headmaster had departed, Snape called for a House-Elf. Moments later his bedroom echoed with a crack and one appeared out of thin air.
“How might I be of service, Professor?” squeaked the House-Elf, looking eager to please, its bat-like ears all aquiver. “Is Professor Snape requiring a snack, sir?”
“One might say that. Bring me Receptacle 819 from cell number five. ... Make certain that she is clean and well-groomed.”
“Yes Professor Snape sir! Tippy will bring you Receptacle at once sir!”
While the House-Elf was gone, Snape waved his wand, and the photographs of Potter’s violation at the tentacles of the Giant Squid hovered in the air. True to his word, Tippy arrived moments later with a girl with long dark hair, wearing naught but a Compulsion Collar, in his clutches.
The nude girl lowered her eyes as Snape looked her over, satisfied with what he saw. She would have been a third year student had she not been a Receptacle, thirteen or fourteen, and with her long black hair she resembled Potter well enough to meet his needs. Her breasts caught his eye; they were moderately largely than Potter’s, topped with stiffening pink nipples.
“Receptacle 819,” Snape barked, his tone cold and malicious. “Service me at once - and use your tits.”
The girl gulped nervously; trembling, she quickly climbed on Snape’s bed, pulling down the covers to reveal his erect penis. Her eyes widened when she saw how large it was - maybe fifteen inches or more - much bigger than the last time she had seen it, and much bigger than it had any right to be.
“Yes!” Snape smirked cruelly at the shock written all over the third year girl’s face. “I decided it looked better this way after using it to break in the back-passage one of our newest Receptacles. I am sure you will enjoy having it shoved in all of your holes today. ... Now get to work!”
Fearfully, the girl did just that; she crawled between the Potion Master’s thighs and pressed her boobs together with her hands, squeezing Snape’s cock in between them.
Snape grunted with satisfaction as he looked at the photos of Potter’s ravishment by the Giant Squid and felt his dick sliding between the young girl’s soft yet firm breasts as she bobbed her chest up and down. Snape began thrusting his hips, meeting her motions, the knob of his huge penis striking her mouth as he fucked her cleavage.
After nearly ten minutes of the young teen’s tits massaging his shaft, Snape felt a swell of giddiness rushing through his veins. He groaned and grabbed the girl’s head with both hands, forcing it lower as she squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced, the bell-end of his cock pressed against her lips and nose as his loins jerked, explosively ejaculating, shooting long ribbons of semen all over her face and hair with every burst.
Snape momentarily paused in looking at the photographs of Potter’s aquatic violation to admire his handiwork. Too afraid to move without his permission, the young girl was still clasping his erection between her boobs as she breathed rapidly and shallowly, her features contorted in misery.
Great gobs of his spunk were splattered across her face, oozing from her forehead into her eyes, strands dripping from her nose, cheeks, and lips onto her breasts.
“You can let go of your tits now! ... Open your mouth!” Snape commanded, still gripping her head with one hand as he retrieved his wand from his nightstand with his other.
The girl reluctantly obeyed. Snape waved his wand and the girl let out a little shriek when one of her legs was suddenly jerked up into the air until she was dangling upside down by one ankle, her other leg flailing about uselessly.
For a moment Snape merely enjoyed the view of the girl’s pert little arse and widely parted thighs, imagining she was Potter, and vowing to use Levicorpus on her the next time he had Potter in class. What a delicious irony that would be: The child of James Potter, dangling upside down in the air by one ankle, exposing all to the world.
“My spell, Potter,” he hissed nearly inaudibly under his breath. “That was my spell! Did you really think you could us my own spell against me like that and not suffer the consequences?”
After the few moments of gloating at his own imaginings passed, Snape waved his wand again and a rope shot out of the end as both of the girl's wrists were yanked up as well, forcing her arms behind her back as the rope wound itself tightly around her wrists and forearms, binding them together.
Now that she was dangling above his crotch, immobilised, the third year girl was in the perfect position for a straight shot without having to exert himself or move an inch. Still clutching her head, he angled it back so that the panicked girl’s open mouth was just above his cock. Snape smiled sadistically - he knew she could take it thanks to Dumbledore’s spell, but she didn’t.
Then without warning, Snape forcefully wrenched her head down, plunging the entirety of his fifteen inches into her esophagus in one go as she gagged and choked, her body jerking and writhing. It was a snug fit, her throat wrapped around his cock like a wet, warm sheath, her wriggling tongue involuntarily massaging the underside of his shaft as her lips pressed against his thicket of pubic hair.
Her writhing and muffled attempts to scream alone would have been enough to bring off any other man as her slick throat clenched even more around his shaft. But Snape wasn’t any other man, and he intended to make this last. With one more wave of his wand, the girl’s body raised up into the air about six inches, her lips stretched around the girth of Snape’s erection.
Then her body plummeted until her lips were pressed against his pubes once more. Then up again, down again, the vibrations of her muted shrieks around his pole an added pleasurable sensation, her long black hair strewn across his lower abdomen.
As the bouncing up and down of her slight figure picked up the pace, Snape had to do no work at all, save a slight thrust of his hips, to fuck the third year girl’s throat, and he returned to gazing wantonly at the photos of Potter and the Giant Squid.
Having climaxed once already, it was no task at all to last an extended period of time. It was at least half an hour before Snape’s balls churned once more, and he unleashed such a torrent of sperm into her throat that it sprayed from her mouth. The girl’s body slackened, and she no doubt expected that this part of it was over, despite the fact that his cock was still lodged in her esophagus.
Snape smirked evilly. He had enjoyed this far too much to stop now.
“Enervate,” he muttered, aiming his wand at his cock and balls.
Then he aimed his wand at her limp body, and the horrified dangling girl began to bob up and down again, Snape’s penis never once exiting her throat for the next forty minutes or so...
~o0o~
Cornelius Fudge sat in Dumbledore’s office, twirling his lime green bowler hat in his hands as he uncomfortably half-listened to Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore discussing what to do about the Sirius Black situation, both believing that Black would be seeking to murder Harriet Potter.
Fudge knew better of course, that it was far more likely that Black was seeking to rescue Harriet. But without any evidence it would amount to political suicide to say anything, and it would certainly be of no help to Black as undoubtedly Black would also be seeking to murder Dumbledore now for turning James Potter’s daughter into a sex-slave.
If Fudge was to be of any help to Black or anyone at all, only by maintaining what little political cover that he had left as Minister - a largely administrative role these days - could he do so...
Dumbledore’s voice cut through his reverie.
“...wouldn’t you agree, Cornelius?”

“What? Oh, er... sorry. My mind was elsewhere for a moment.”
“Dementors,” said Dumbledore. “Lucius believes we should have Dementors guarding the school, and as much as I find them unpleasant and distasteful, I have to concede that they do make exceptional guards - having employed one or two as such myself on occasion.”
“Well...” said Fudge slowly, “Black did escape Azkaban on their watch...”
“A fair point, Cornelius,” said Warlock Malfoy. “However, they will no doubt redouble their efforts, furious as they are to have Black besmirching their spotless record of the last three hundred years.”
“Yes, yes of course,” Fudge agreed, nodding, keeping his thoughts well hidden from prying eyes. “By all means, Dementors patrolling the outskirts would no doubt be an effective deterrent - Black hardly wants to be captured again...”
“Indeed,” said Dumbledore, nodding. “Especially as the Dementors are more likely to ‘Kiss’ him on sight. It is agreed then - the Dementors shall patrol the borders of Hogwarts...”
“And perhaps a few in the castle?” suggested Lucius.
“That could possibly endanger the students,” Fudge pointed out reasonably.
“Quite so, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore. “But I think one stationed in the castle is a fair compromise. In fact, I already have one here on the premises under my strict control. The castle is warded to prevent its effects from negatively affecting the mood of the students.”
Fudge was stunned at the admission, and Lucius looked somewhat surprised - though rather impressed as well.
“Why Albus, you old rascal,” said Lucius, half-smiling, “as pragmatic as ever, I see.”

Dumbledore merely lifted his bushy eyebrows, his piercing blue eyes twinkling mirthfully.
~o0o~
The next few days passed with little success. Sirius Black had hit up nearly all of the wizarding pubs which catered to werewolves up and down Britain, and tracked down a number of leads which had turned out to be dead ends.
Now, late Friday morning, he was in a hole-in-the-wall pub in a run-down area of Cardiff - a dingy, dimly lit place with cracked lamp shades and stained, peeling paint; the smell of stale tobacco lingered in the air. Black could only remember visiting it once with James and Remus - Peter had said he was too afraid to go with them.
Looking back on things, it seemed as if Peter had avoided being seen with them in public almost ever since the day they had left Hogwarts, making Black wonder just how long Peter had been Voldemort’s spy. Had he switched sides from the very beginning? Or had he only just started questioning his loyalties at the time?
Whatever! Black had long ago decided that if it came down to avenging James and Lily, or getting answers, then he could live without knowing every detail of Peter’s betrayal.
Putting aside long pondered questions, Black peered into the shadowy corners of the pub. There were very few patrons and he considered having a pint now, despite the early hour, so as not to raise suspicions, and then come back again in the evening when there were sure to be more customers.
As Black approached the bar, there was one figure whose face he couldn’t make out; a wizard in a dark corner booth nearly slumped on the table, his glass mug nearly empty.
“Not even noon and he looks like he’s pissed already,” said Black to the middle aged barkeeper with a grizzled handlebar moustache. “He must’ve got an early start.”
“Nah, mate.” The barkeeper shook his head and raised his eyebrows. “That’s his first one. He’s just a mopey sod, he is. Usually comes in about this time, drinks till he’s sloshed, then it’s back home to sleep it off.”
“So what’s his story?”
“Dunno really,” the barkeeper replied with a shrug. “Keeps to ‘imself mostly.”
“Looks like the poor bastard could use another then,” said Black. “What’s he drinking? I’m buying.”
“Black Witch Ale,” said the barkeeper. “What’ll you have?”
Black raised his eyebrows in surprise, his moustache twitching mirthfully. James Potter and Lupin always used to tease him about the name of the brand. Could it be...?
“I’ll have the same, thank you.”
When the barkeeper returned with two frothy mugs of ale Black carried them both to the gloomy corner booth and set one in front of the morose figure, his chest filling with hope. The man stirred and lifted his head, his shaggy salt and pepper hair falling away from his face.
“Er... Thank you!” said the puzzled looking man, “Do I know you?”
Black’s heart almost leapt for joy, and it was all he could do not to embrace the man right then and there. He sat down opposite the glum looking wizard and set his own ale on the scuffed and stained mahogany table carefully before he dropped it.
“Hello Moony!”
The melancholy wizard’s eyes widened.
“Wh-where did you hear that name?” he asked hoarsely.
“I first heard it many years ago, in Hogwarts. If I recall correctly, it was Prongs who coined that one for you.”
“N-no, it can’t be! ... You don’t look anything like him!”
“Of course I don’t. You don’t think I’d come in here looking like myself, do you?”
“But... No! That’s impossible - he’s supposed to be in Azkaban!”
“You don’t read the papers much, do you?” Black sighed. “My real face has been on the front page of the Daily Prophet for the last three days since I escaped.”
Shock registered on Moony’s face as it finally started to sink in that Black was who he had indicated himself to be. Moony’s features twisted with anger and his hand darted toward his shabby overcoat for his wand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Black, whose own wand was already in his hand. “I really don’t want to stun you, Moony.”
“Why?” asked Moony, his eyes glistening with tears of grief and rage. “How could you? They were our friends! ... How could you?”
Black swallowed, nostrils flaring with emotion, his own eyes filling with tears.
“It wasn’t me, Remus! I swear it!” he croaked. “I promise it wasn’t me - and I can prove it! Just hear me out... please!”
Remus hesitated, his lips quivering. Then he nodded his head jerkily.
Black reached into his grocery bag where he had been keeping the magically repaired newspaper handy just in case he ran into Remus like this. He paused momentarily, his eyes flickering back to Remus.
“Er...When was the last time you read a Daily Prophet?”
“Not sure,” Remus muttered, “Ages! ... Why? What does it matter?”
Black sighed and rubbed at his forehead.
“Right! Okay... look, this is going to be a bit of a shock if you don’t already know. But it’s the reason I broke out of Azkaban - I’m going to need your help if I’m going to rescue him... I mean her... I mean... I’m sorry, I know this isn’t making much sense - I just want you to be prepared...”
“Just get on with it and show me, Sirius!”
Sirius glanced around nervously. “Not so loud - just stick to Padfoot, alright!”
“Fine, Padfoot then!” Remus snapped.”Now show me!”
Now that he was here, knowing that Remus didn’t have a clue, and despite being desperate to show Remus the proof of his innocence, Sirius was reluctant to actually let him see the Daily Prophet. Hesitantly, Sirius reached into his grocery bag again and drew out the newspaper, passing it to Remus.
As he perused the front page of the Prophet, Remus’s face turned white, his jaw dropped, and his eyes nearly flew out of his sockets. He read though the article, peered at the horrifying photos, read the article again in disbelief, peered at the pictures again in outrage, then flung the newspaper on the table.
Remus rubbed his forehead with both hands, then he looked Sirius right in the eye, his expression anguished, pleading.
“This... this is all true? You’re sure of it?”
“That is a perfectly real Daily Prophet,” Sirius pointed out, his own expression heartbroken, “and Cornelius Fudge himself confirmed it when he was inspecting Azkaban. Remus, we have to save him - save her I mean, and her friend. I need you with me on this.”
“Of course - of course I’m with you!” Remus nodded, apparently believing Sirius’s sincerity wholeheartedly now without even seeing the evidence of his innocence.
“There is one other thing Remus,” said Sirius, thanking his blessings, “the proof! Peter - he’s alive! He’s the one who betrayed James and Lily - the one who betrayed us all!”
“What?” Remus gasped. “But how? ... How do you know?”
“The Prophet, look at it again.”
Remus gave the newspaper a look of revulsion and picked it up by its corner as if it were towel used to wipe up a puddle of vomit.
“What am I looking for?” he asked.
“The photograph labeled Petting Zoo. ... The boy who looks like a Weasley - the one standing next to the boy who looks like a Malfoy...”
“The one who’s groping Harriet?” A muscle in Remus’s jaw twitched, a dangerously wolfish look in his eye as he peered at the red-headed boy.
“That’s the one,” said Sirius. “Keep an eye on his pocket as he... er... fondles Harry-er-et.”
“Okay, I see a rat’s head poking out of his pocket,” said Remus skeptically, “but you don’t really think...”
“I’d recognise that Rodent’s head anywhere, but keep watching - wait for the image to cycle through again. Watch for when he sticks his little paws out to pull himself up for a better look at Harriet.”
“Wait... I think I see it,” said Lupin, his eyes widening in surprise again, “Yes, he’s missing one of his fingers, and all they ever found of Peter was...”
“...one of his fingers!” Sirius forcefully tapped the tabletop with his forefinger several times to drive home the point. “See? It’s him! It’s him, Remus, and...”
“...And we’re going to finish the job you got sent to Azkaban for,” Remus growled. “You and me, together. But our first concern is getting Harriet and her friend out of there. We can worry about dealing with Peter later if we have to...”
“...And Dumbledore,” said Sirius. “He’s the one who orchestrated all of this madness...”
“Yes, and Dumbledore,” Remus agreed, straightening up, looking more and more animated with every word.
Sirius was thrilled beyond measure to see Remus come back to life now that he had a sense of purpose again. He couldn’t imagine how awful Remus must have felt for so many years having lost everyone he loved, how betrayed he must have felt. On top of Remus’s guilt and self-doubt in regards to being a werewolf, the weight of it all had clearly been soul-crushing.
Sirius almost reached across the table to grab Remus and kiss him right then and there, but then remembered that they were in public. Remus seemed to notice, and the wry smile which lit up his face filled Sirius with a joy which he hadn’t felt in over ten years - not since their last night together.
“Drink up,” said Remus. “We’re going back to my place, and we’ll draw up a plan...”
Sirius raised his eyebrows hopefully.
“...and maybe if you behave, we’ll even make up a bit for lost time,” Remus concluded, his smile widening.
Sirius grinned. “I’ll be as meek as a lamb,” he promised impishly.
“Now where would the fun be in that?” Remus quipped; then he downed his ale in two gulps and wiped the foam from his moustache with a napkin...
~o0o~
The first raindrops struck dry asphalt, falling from the slate grey skies above when the pair of wizards came to the end of a row of warehouses. A flock of seagulls took flight as they approached, leaving only lazy pigeons to pick through rubbish bins looking for scraps of food left by the warehouse workers and lorry drivers.
Remus directed his companion’s attention to what looked like it had once been a detached depot office.
“So this is it?” Sirius raised his eyebrows at the sight of the derelict red brick building.
“It was the safest place I could find,” Remus explained as he reached into his pocket for his keys. “A flat wouldn’t have done anyone much good. Here, there is no one around to harm at nights should I manage to escape the confines I have set up for myself - a room which I have fortified and warded in which to transform on the nights of the full moon.”
“Fair enough,” said Sirius, nodding, “But once we’ve rescued Harriet and her little friend, you will come and live with me - with us - won’t you? We can clean up Number Twelve, make it habitable - fit for decent wizards - and fix up a basement to contain you.”
Remus paused for a moment, a pensive expression on his face, his keys in hand. Then he nodded, looking slightly tearful.
“Yes, I’d like that very much,” he said softly, unlocking the door.
Sirius followed Remus into the entryway. What had once been the outer office for the secretary of a shipping clerk was now a homey looking little living room with a slightly threadbare pale blue sofa, a pine coffee-table, and a television. All it was missing was a fireplace.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” said Sirius half-jokingly as Remus locked the door behind them.
Suddenly Sirius had an armful of Remus, joined with him in an ardent embrace. They held each other, both finding comfort in the warmth of real human contact for the first time in over ten years. In the privacy of Remus’s living room, Sirius gave in to the urge which had overcome him in the pub, and the next thing he knew, his lips and moustache were pressed against Remus’s.
The kiss grew more heated and wet and Remus managed to steer them both to the sofa. When Remus unbuckled Sirius’s belt and began tugging at Sirius’s jeans, Sirius grinned.
“Whatever happened to ‘behaving’?”
“To hell with that!” Remus retorted as he released Sirius’s stiffening cock from its cotton prison. “It’s been bloody ten years! ... ‘Behaving’ can some later!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Sirius, then he let out a little gasp when Remus’s mouth engulfed his erection.
God he’d missed this! Remus’s tongue swirling around his shaft, tickling the end of his knob, the suction of his warm lips and mouth as he bobbed his head back and forth. Remus began sucking more vigorously, taking Sirius’s cock deeper and deeper.
Going from ten years of nothing to this - there was no way he was going to last long; Sirius felt the wave of bliss cresting moments later and he lost it, spilling his seed into Remus’s willing throat with a satisfied groan.
Finished, Remus clambered back to his feet and wiped his lips on his sleeve, smirking at his long lost partner in crime who was still panting on the sofa.
“Care to take this to the bedroom? ...unless you’re too exhausted that is.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Sirius retorted...
After about an hour of shagging each other silly, Sirius and Remus both showered and dressed, ending up in Remus’s little kitchen. Another fifteen minutes later they were sipping tea and wolfing down a pile of corned beef sandwiches, pork pies, and bags of salt and vinegar crisps.
Feeling full and satisfied in more ways than one, Sirius and Remus both began making suggestions as they worked out a rescue plan.
“...We could go in through the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack,” said Sirius.
“Well, we know they’ll be in that bloody cage in the Great Hall,” Remus replied, “And if Dementors are actually on the school grounds, then our best bet is through the tunnel from Hogsmeade.”
“Fair point,” Sirius agreed. “We’ll have to go in at night anyway to avoid too much trouble, so we might as well. ... Maybe we could try and get up to the Gryffindor dorms and find that rotten bastard Wormtail too - he’s sure to be with the Weasley boy.”
“We can’t risk it if we want to get the girls to safety,” Remus argued. “That’s the most important thing! We’ll have to fight that battle another day unless an opportunity presents itself.”
“Fuck!” swore Sirius, scowling and sighing all at once. “You’re right of course. I just hate it - I want that little traitor dead! And who knows when we’ll get another chance?”
“We’ll just have to hope for the best,” said Remus. “Let’s focus on what we can reasonably accomplish right now. ... We have several options as far as timing goes. It would be nice if we could try and break them out tonight, but we really should get the lay of the land first, see how tight security is before doing anything rash. ...So it’s really down to going in tomorrow night, after the Shokushu event, or waiting till Sunday night.”
“Tomorrow night! I want to get them out of that hell-hole as soon as possible! But it’ll have to be late if today’s Prophet is any indication. It’s supposed to run from about eight in the morning till about ten P.M.”
“Agreed!” Remus nodded. “Okay then, we’ll scout things out - you should be able to sniff around a bit as Padfoot - and then sneak into the tunnel early, and then wait until midnight before heading to the Great Hall. I’m sure that between us we can break any wards there may be on the cage...”
“...And if we disillusion ourselves and the girls once we’ve got them, we should be able to get back out through the Hogsmeade tunnel without being seen,” said Sirius.
“If we can’t, we may have to risk the Dementors and make for the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack,” said Remus. “But yes, that does seem like our best option...”
~o0o~
Harriet and Hermione were both feeling loads better after a few days in the hospital wing. The worst that either of had to look forward to each day was Hermione at mealtimes when the House Elves also fed Scabbers.
When Friday evening arrived, Harriet felt rested and strong enough to face whatever that Japanese Demon had to throw at her tomorrow - she just wanted to get in as much cuddling with Hermione as possible until then. Pomfrey had left the curtain up around their section of the ward so they could snuggle in privacy.
They were in the middle of a bit of snogging after dinner when the sound of the infirmary door opening and voices caught their ears. Madam Pomfrey was greeting someone who had just entered the hospital wing. Thankfully it wasn’t anyone they didn’t want to see.
“It’s Lavender and Parvati,” Harriet whispered happily.
“Oh,” said Hermione, torn between being pleased and anxiety, “That’s a bit risky for them if too many people know that they’re our friends.”
Harriet grinned and tickled Hermione when they next heard Madam Pomfrey say, “It’s nice to see that Miss Potter and Miss Granger have some friends. Of course you can visit with them.”
Pomfrey opened their curtain and let Lavender and Parvati through. “I’ll give you all a bit of privacy and leave you four to it then. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave so I can lock up for the night, dears.”

”Thank you Madam Pomfrey,” said Parvati as the school nurse passed back through the curtain.
She and Lavender sat on the bed beside Harriet and Hermione and waited until they heard the click of Pomfrey’s heels fading and her office door shutting before anyone said anything other than “Hi guys,” and “Hello.”
“We’ve been talking,” said Lavender excitedly, “Me and Parvati and her sister and Penelope...”
“...And we think we’re almost ready,” Parvati squeaked. “Padma and Penelope think they’ve worked out a way around the magical wards on your cage, and Penelope has invented a spell which she thinks should at least block the effects of those collars, even if she can’t work out how to get them off...”
“...and Parvati and I have a plan to steal Ron and Seamus’s wands,” said Lavender. “We’ve been practicing an advanced charm that Penelope found for us which should keep all the boys from waking up. We’ll sneak into the first year boys’ dorm after everyone’s gone to sleep - cast the spell, then steal their wands...”
“Penelope and Padma are going to be hanging out in the Gryffindor common room waiting for us,” said Parvati, picking up from Lavender. “Nobody will think anything of it, because Padma’s my sister and Penelope is Percy Weasley’s girlfriend...”
“She’s his grifriend? Really?” Harriet was a bit taken aback by that bit of information.
“Oh - is that why Percy stopped making us suck him off whenever we’re doing the Gryffindor table at breakfast and dinner?” asked Hermione.

“Yes!” Parvati grinned. “She told him it made her jealous! ... Anyway, we’re going to try and do this all tomorrow night and then sneak down to the Great Hall around midnight to get you two out of here.”
“That’s brilliant!” said Harriet eagerly. “All of it! ... I can’t believe you lot are all doing so much for us...”
Hermione bit her lip and frowned.
“But won’t you all get into loads of trouble if you get caught?” she asked anxiously.
“I don’t really think so,” said Lavender. “None of our families are part of the Sacred Twenty Eight, but Parvati and I are Purebloods, and even though Penelope is technically a Half-blood, her father is a Pureblood and a member of the Wizengamot. If anyone asks we’ll just tell them the truth - that we’re your friends and we felt sorry for you.”
“It really shouldn’t be too big of a deal!” Parvati insisted earnestly. “I know our parents will support us - they raised us to believe everyone was equal, remember?”
“Oh! That’s right - I forgot,” said Hermione.
Harriet grinned at her; Hermione rarely forgot anything. Hermione blushed and swatted Harriet’s shoulder.
“Shut up!”
“What? I didn’t say anything,” said Harriet cheekily. Lavender and Parvati both giggled.
“Anyway,” said Harriet, turning back to Lavender and Parvati, “I don’t know how we’ll make this up to you, and... and you’re the best friends anyone could hope to have.”
“Just promise you’ll get as far away from here as you can and stay safe,” said Parvati. “Maybe you can get to France somehow - go to Beauxbatons. It’s supposed to be a really good school. And one day when you can do enough magic to protect yourself we can meet again.”
Harriet swallowed, her eyes stinging. For all they said they wouldn’t get into much trouble, she somehow didn’t think it would really be quite that easy. And all they wanted was for Harriet and Hermione to be safe. It just didn’t seem right to accept all this help without giving at least a token of appreciation in return.
“But I’d really like to do something for you!” Harriet gave them both an earnest, beseeching look, overcome with a powerful surge of emotion and affection, desperately hoping that they might like girls enough to accept. ... “I know it wouldn’t be much, but I’ll do anything you’d like - anything - really! ... It’s all I have to offer.”
“Oh, no! We couldn’t possibly...” Parvati shook her head vigorously and looked horrified when she suddenly realised what Harriet was offering.
Hermione peered at Harriet and saw her struggling to hold back her tears.
“Are you sure there isn’t something we could do that you’d like?” she asked the two Gryffindor girls. “It doesn’t have to be much - but it would make Harriet and me both feel a bit better if we could do even the teensiest thing nice for you.”
Parvati and Lavender both glanced at each other, not really knowing what to do. They leaned in towards each other and spoke in hurried whispers. Finally they turned back towards Harriet and Hermione.
“Okay,” said Parvati nervously, taking a deep breath, “If it’ll make you feel a bit better, then alright. There is one thing we think might be nice if you really don’t mind. We, erm... er... erm...”
“We wondered what it would be like to suck your nipples,” Lavender whispered, blushing furiously. “Parvati and I have already practiced kissing each other a bit, but that’s as far as we’ve ever got, and... well, to be honest, our boobs aren’t very big yet and we both wish they were bigger already, because that’s what we were thinking of trying next...”
“...And we’re also a bit curious about, you know... the milk,” giggled Parvati. “But you really don’t have to...”
“We’d love to,” said Harriet and Hermione in unison, grinning. Moments later they each had a nipple in a giddy Gryffindor’s mouth as Parvati and Lavender fed at their breasts.
There was much slurping and giggling for the next hour or so, and even though their own boobs were small, Parvati and Lavender gradually felt comfortable enough to share them and their nipples with Harriet and Hermione and each other as well. True to her word, Madam Pomfrey didn’t bother them once...
AN: I've been meaning to get around to writing a bit of explicit male/male action in one of my stories eventually, and figured it might as well be this one.
@ Pixel-King: Lol! :D ... Thanks? I think? .... Yeah, I totally get where you're coming from! This is some disturbing shit! ... As to the cum in Hermione's mouth, and going down on other girls, well, let's just say that wizard world contraception is 100% effective.
@ ClaireR89: Yeah, there's definitely something heartwarming and romantic about the breastfeeding moments. ... That's definitely going to remain a feature of the story going forward... :-)
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts