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Disillusioned	By : Remarkable Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 12207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the Harry Potter fandom and make no money from the publication of this work of fiction.

Chapter List
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To my sole reviewer, no, the Woman Series has not been discontinued. As stated in chapter one of this fic, I had a long hiatus due to multiple personal issues. I am now getting back into writing, including dusting off and picking up my other languishing fics, like Woman series. As any author with WIP's that sit for a long while, it takes a bit of time to go back and re-read what you've written so that when you start up again the continuation isn't way off course. The dynamic can change but we don't want massive plotholes in the story either! Thanks for the mention. So, I am going to edit and move this story now to threesomes/moresomes and add warnings, as we introduce another character to the mix.

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I Want a New Drug

One would expect a certain amount of awkwardness the morning after, the following days after, or just in general. That particular phenomenon was never to manifest.

Like a new drug, moth to the flame, in whatever capacity it was to be described, the pair was drawn to one another inexplicably.

Harry was surprised to learn quite a bit about his apparent, still-budding sexuality. All of his time focused on defeating the Dark Lord had deprived him of the usual teenage bouts most boys his age had already experienced. In the more-experienced but still learning arms of his remaining best friend, they together learned some interesting proclivities about the boy-who-lived.

Performance was never an issue for Potter. On the contrary, it seemed he was always hard for her, thoughts hooked on fucking her in every position, every fantasy, in every room of the house. The real issue was finishing in any fashion. It took new and interesting situations, strange fantasies and ever-increasing variety to get him off. While the first session of whatever new bout of sexual deviance they conjured up usually got him off quickly, repeat performances were elusive. It was frustrating to say the least.

Hermione loved being taken in all manner of differences with a passion that rivaled her hunger for books. For once she felt a keen drive to learn all she could about this seemingly taboo subject. In addition to finding the only release that made her feel alive, it was also the only way she was able to reach out and touch Harry in a way that he seemed to respond with any aplomb. There was barely a grunt in response to any of their other house-mates. He’d occasionally grant Remus or Arthur a few words, but other than the first night they were together and he’d answered Molly, the young man had fallen back into his post-battle stupor when it came to everyone else.

The rest of the house seemed a bit shocked to find the pair in bed together the first morning after. Hermione quickly explained their nightmares seemed to have subsided when they shared a sleeping space. In a matter of speaking, this was true. While the dreams persisted nightly for them both, the intensity abated to a tolerable level with limbs entwined, shared breath and linen providing comfort in much the way sex had.

The explanation appeased Molly and most of the Black household inhabitants. Remus was never fooled. Arthur had his suspicions but kept his mouth shut. His own wife had busied herself so much with the welfare of everyone around her he simply accepted what was, as long as it wasn’t hurting anyone. If the kids wanted to sleep together he had nothing to say on the matter. Two of his own were gone and he was embroiled in the aftermath of holding the tenuous Ministry together by a mere thread with the co-leadership of Kingsley and sole financial backing of Lucius Malfoy.

Remus tried to ignore the obvious signs of their sexual escapades. After all, he was of Arthur’s mindset; what business was it of his if the pair found comfort in one another’s arms? He couldn’t blame them, as they’d all lost so many, the effects so profound and decidedly devastating. Dora’s sweet face haunted him, dead students staring blindly, accusing “Why weren’t you there!” even as he’d killed many a Death Eater. He hadn’t been able to save them all. If only……

Self-castigation was his mantra. Oh, the werewolf tried to make himself useful, cooking meals, checking on the welfare of others, doing the odd jobs that fell between the cracks. There were just too many people still wary of anyone that might have played a negative role in the war for him to journey in public by day. His status as a half-breed was well known and real danger lurked behind tightly held wands of the distrustful public. So he stayed inside, puttering about, dying inside with two rutting teenagers torturing him with their unsubtle copulation.

The straw that almost broke the camel’s back was the night he headed for his usual spot in the library. The Black’s great collection was slowly being catalogued and manually restored by his own hand, it having become a bit of a hobby that brought a small joy into his otherwise dreary existence. A glass of brandy and a good book on old magic was just the balm away from the piteous eyes or dismissive wave from those who knew he couldn’t make any real difference at this point in time.

His oasis had been usurped with the unmistakable, very tell-tale sound of rhythmic thumping coming from within. To his shock the door was unlocked as well. So unwarded, anyone could have walked in and seen the two happily fucking away on the very chair he nightly sank into for comfort and respite.

Remus’ hand trembled on the doorknob. Three times he reached for the faded bronze knob, and thrice he pulled back. Warring emotions and thoughts went back and forth. On one hand he raged at the interruption to one of his only daily joys. Was it such a small thing to be left to his own devices? A little voice in his head proclaimed the two had no reason to even have knowledge of his respite. It’s not as if either of them had come to the library after nightfall. Hermione had ventured there frequently during the day and always retreated to her room or elsewhere to devour whichever tome she’d picked for the day.

The unshaven man cursed inwardly. Why was he even contemplating opening the door? This was one of those moments when he should just turn around and leave. His hands clenched into fists at his side, feet glued to the spot, unwilling to obey a mental command that meant well but held no force of will behind it.

With a shudder and sigh, he gave in, grabbed his wand and flicked a silencing spell against the door, then a Notice-Me-Not on himself. A barely audible ‘Alohamora’ allowed his quick entrance as he quit the hall, quickly and quietly situating himself into a corner of the room that the illumination of the fire didn’t reach even at its roaring finest. A feeling like cool water rushed over him as he Disillusioned himself for good measure.

“Gods, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mouthed silently. The door was still unlocked, but Remus knew no one else would disrupt their heated lovemaking now that his silencing charm had saved their current venture from discovery.

His focus brought a sharp jerk to his groin at the rapid rise and fall of Harry’s hips. The lad was on tiptoe, leaning over the young witch with her legs over his shoulders. Remus couldn’t see her face or body from his position but he could certainly see Harry’s face and musculature as it gleamed and rippled with each fluid movement.

Harry leaned on his fists on either side of Hermione, his body and back rigid save for his plunging pelvis in and out of her sloppy cunt. Their breathing was loud and fast, punctuated by pops from the wood in the fire and an occasional sigh or murmured exclamation from Harry. The wet slapping was steady in measure, Harry’s long, thick cock entering and retreating from her swollen pussy with vigor. He was alternating looking into Hermione’s pleasure-stricken face and the intimate place of their joining. Harry whispered something to Hermione and she moaned an assent.

Remus’ hand unwillingly sank to the junction of his trousers, fingers nimbly working open the ties that kept his member bound. His breath hitched as Harry changed it up, swearing lightly with the heavy release of his own arousal into his palm. The older man spit on his palm, greasing his cock with saliva and pre-cum spread from his tip. This was dirty, it was wrong, he had no right to be there, but then again neither did they. This was his territory and they were invaders. It was his right to enjoy what was his whether that be a book or fornicating teens. Damn them to hell. Damn everyone to hell. He didn’t care anymore.

“I’m going to get you pregnant, ‘Mione, going to shoot so far up your cunt my load stays in for days. You’ll walk around the house with it dripping down your thigh and only you and I will know. You’re going to get big with my baby and let me take you any way I please. Tell me you want it, tell me!”

Remus did a double take at the demand he made of the young lady. Surely he didn’t mean??? But the wolf in him loved the idea that the pup was breeding with the little bitch, doing his duty and spreading his seed, claiming her as was nature’s call to all males young and old. The age-old ritual was one the wolf in him understood intimately and Remus had always fought against. It was the wolf who surged forward at the sound and verbal affirmation of what was right falling from the young man’s lips. Remus worked his hand faster over his cock, his head falling back slightly to rest against the wall, lips parted as he yanked and twisted a little harder, more forcefully to keep in unconscious time with the mating before him.

“Yes, Harry, fuck me, give me your baby, I’m so fertile and ready for you. God I want you to impregnate me so much, give it to me!”

“Oh, fucking hell!” Harry yelled, focusing his efforts as he fell to his knees, hooked his arms under her shoulders and redoubled his thrusting speed and force.

“I’m unprotected Harry, do it, do it, yes please I want every drop in my cunt, Harry.”

Remus groaned aloud, his dick so hard he thought his head would shoot off when he finally came. He wanted nothing more than to shove Harry off of her and take his place, the wolf snarling, barely in check at the pup taking the fertile witch so hard and fast just beyond his reach. Mooney was desperate to pump his own seed deep inside of her. It should be HIS pups growing inside her belly, his teeth claiming her neck, holding her down as his sperm took residence as many times a day as he saw fit to fuck her. Remus had unleashed his beast and was having a hell of a time controlling it while he desperately wanked faster and faster.

Harry yanked Hermione off the chair onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Remus now had the full profile view of Harry pile-driving into her. Her delicious breasts jiggled with each thrust, her mouth open and crying out for Harry to kiss her, breed her, fuck her, make her come. A small whine escaped Remus, his hips thrusting into his pumping hand, the other inside his trousers pulling on his own sac in a fever pitch. His eyes changed from their normal hazel to yellow and back again, the irises contracting wildly as the wolf fought for control.

Hermione’s back arched off the floor as she cried out that she was coming, that she loved Harry so much, to give her a baby.

Remus could smell the squirting flood of her arousal and he roared aloud, unable to control the sound of the beast escaping even as the physical control remained in his tenuous grasp. His cock spurted wildly from the tip, shooting across the room onto the back of the chair, some even reaching the floor in front of it.

Harry was shocked into orgasm by the intruding noise, a harsh gasp bursting forth as he poured himself into the witch under him.

A long moment passed as Harry and Hermione remained locked together, their chests rising and falling rapidly in the wake of their extreme pleasure. As one their heads turned toward the source of the roar that had startled the shit out of them both.

Chest heaving, cock flaccid, head down, Remus Lupin shimmered into view when Harry grappled for his wand and pointed it at the far corner. “Finite Incantatem!”

“Holy fuck! Professor?” Hermione gasped, pulling Harry down on top of her to cover herself. She knew it was futile but she tried to anyway.

Harry resisted and pushed off of her, instead standing up, cock dripping, taking a threatening step toward a man he had trusted and looked up to.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Remus turned his head to the side as if he’d been struck. He turned around, adjusting himself quickly. When the man turned back around he still wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. A shaking hand wiped thinning hair from his face, his features pinched and drawn from self-hatred and embarrassment.

“I-I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t mean to-“

“Didn’t mean to what, Remus? Watch while I fucked Hermione? Wank yourself off, hidden in a corner? Do you know how fucking sick that is? I don’t know what to think!”

“I’ll just be going.” The beaten man sidled along the wall, unable to blame Harry for raging at him. It was sick, and his thoughts had been messed up for weeks. Nothing was ever going to be normal again, if there ever had been such a thing in his life.

Harry kept his wand trained on the older man, his green eyes sharp and almost cat-like, and a wicked frown marring his otherwise handsome face.

Two sets of faces turned sharply when Hermione’s clear voice rang out.

“Remus, wait!”

“No, Hermione, there’s nothing to say. It’s sick, what he just did. Let him go. If I have to look at him for another minute I won’t be blamed for what hex I throw his way.”

Hermione’s hand reached out to cover the one clutching the wand, with some force, pushing it downward.

“No. There’s been enough pain and I’m sure Remus was only trying to-“

“He fucking watched us screw, Hermione! What the hell can you possibly say that can rationalize it away?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, her fists planting firmly on her naked hips. “Harry Potter, don’t take that tone with me. For one, nothing around here makes sense. When did you ever think you and I would become lovers?”

She turned to Remus, her voice shaking, “And has anyone bothered to make your life easier? I can only imagine the pain you’ve been in, Professor.”

Remus closed his eyes against the title. “Please don’t call me Professor. I feel bad enough already. I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you at all, Sir.”

Surprise surfaced in an instant with the touch of cool hands upon his cheeks, fingertips lightly running over a three day beard and lingering scars from his past.

“I never meant to insinuate I felt pity for you. I just meant, I just mean, well, maybe it’s easier if I show you what I mean.”

Her hands grasped behind his neck as she lifted herself onto tip-toe, her grasp tugging at his neck. As if mesmerized, he leaned down the six inches to reach her and allowed her lips to brush over his own. Remus groaned as she stepped into him, pressing her naked body against his clothed one, the heavy scent of fresh arousal flooding every sense. His inner wolf howled with glee, tongue lolling, cock springing to life at the chance to compete with the pup’s for dominance in mating with this young, delectable bitch.

Harry ground his teeth together, stalking angrily up to the snogging pair before wrenching Hermione’s lips away from Lupin’s and crashing his own lips onto hers.

He pulled her head back with a medium grip by the hair and turned his narrowed eyes onto the older man before him. “If you want to fuck her, Sir, you’re going to have to share.”

So the beginning of their intense love affair was born, wolf, hero and know-it-all entering a new phase of life none of the trio could have imagined would ever take them to where they would eventually end up.
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Disillusioned