Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Deck of Cards	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-November 3rd, 7:25 P.M.
- 2-November 4th, 10:00 P.M.
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- 2
AN: So, this story has taken over my life. I've just realized that I'm already six chapters into it (written, but not posted) and I have several more planned. Cool, huh?
rae13004: Again, Sorry. I messed up and I'm working to fix it. That being said, see AN.
Katherine: I'm gonna have to wait until the Mod's check to make sure I've done my job and fixed my boo-boos. Until then, I hope you continue to enjoy this or check out my other stories. I've still got five up.
n: I did that on purpose, ya know. It was intended to be just like Harry experiences it. At first, I was gonna keep it like the books, where you only know what Harry knows, from Dudley's birthday on, but I went this way, instead.
starr: Who Do? Oh, yeah. Voodoo. That's right. There's more to magic than waving wands and stirring cauldrons. Western chauvinism is alive and well in the world. I'm bringing in some of the Southern American and Caribbean influence. Do you like?
AN2: All the stories are back. Hope they all meet your expectations.
Chapter Two: November 4^th, 10:00 P.M.
When Harry opened his eyes, he was in a cold, darkened room, lined with stone and far from Hogwarts. It was some kind of cellar or dungeon, by the looks of it. He was surrounded by long-haired, bronze-skinned men in strange garb that consisted of long red loincloths with matching leather chest and back plates, their arms were decorated with golden bands and their ankles were ringed with strings of beads and bells. They glared at him as they stood guard. Suddenly, he heard familiar voices, even as his eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, and he was about to cast a shield just as he was hit with a spell.
“Potter!”
“Harry, look out!”
“Behind you!”
“Idiot!”
His arms and neck grew heavy and weak. He was staring at the ground when he heard the coin and his wand clatter to the floor and saw that he stood in the middle of a chalk oval. Brown hands plucked up the coin and wand, as brown feet stepped into view under brightly colored skirts. One brown hand reached out to lift his chin so that he was face-to-face with the woman from the voodoo shop. “What do you want from us, Witch?” he mumbled finding his mouth was equally weakened by the spell.
“I am not a witch,” she said with her sultry slow drawl and Cajun twang. “I am a priestess. I do not practice you magic with sticks and ancient words. I come here to find a powerful man and instead I find that you magic is weak and not pure.”
“Then, look somewhere else,” Harry mumbled.
“Or keep searching and purify,” she laughed then and released his chin. He found he could now hold it up and he looked past the guards to the cells against the walls. “Put him in his cage,” she said but before she danced away she added, “Welcome to your new home, little beast chile.”
As two of the guards collected him, the rest went off to attend the priestess and Harry got an even better look at the room. Two walls were lined with cells, in an “L” shape, with four cells on each leg. The cells were fronted with open bars, with one prisoner, one bed, one sink and one metal bucket in each. The faces of the captives were all familiar to Harry as he was dragged along toward the middle of them.
Neville was in the first cell, followed by Theodore Nott, then Ron and Blaise Zabini toward the center. At the other end, farthest from Neville, was Roger Davies, Greg Goyle, George Weasley and finally Malfoy, nearest to Blaise. In the center of the row was a cell door, wedged between the two Slytherin cells, and that was where the guards were taking him.
He was shoved inside and the door closed behind him, just when the spell was released and he jerked around to glare at the retreating back of the two guards.
“Sleep now, little beasts. Tomorrow will be a big day for all you.” The priestess said as she disappeared through a door and the already dark dungeon grew even darker.
“Potter! Potter!” Malfoy sneered from his left.
Harry leaned as far as he could through the bars to see that all of the others were doing the same, but the only face he could see clearly was that of the blond. 'Probably because his hair glows in the dark,' he thought unkindly.
“Have they figured it out? Does anyone have a clue out there?” Malfoy went on when Harry looked away.
“They know that it happens at ten. They know that it was all pures, until last night. When they took the girls, they took randomly, I guess. They know it has something to do with a strange magic, I'm guessing that would be the priestess.” he ground out the title with sufficient malice and then thought up his own questions. “What has happened to you, since you've been here?”
“Nothing. They put us in these cages, gave us food, emptied our privies and otherwise ignored us.” Malfoy sneered and Harry had to smile. Some things never changed.
“What about the girls?”
“What girls? The only people we've seen are those brutes, the bitch and each other. I'd love some more stimulating companions by now. Even you are a bit of fresh conversation, after this long.”
“A compliment, Malfoy. I'm touched.”
“You must be. I'm going to bed before the company becomes stale,” and with that he dissolved into the darkness.
“Hey, Mate?” Ron called.
“Yeah, Ron.” Harry returned.
“How's my family. I've only got George here and he's not talking to me for some reason.”
“Because you're a git, that's why.” George snapped. “He had the nerve to blame me and Fred for us being here.”
“I only asked if it was one of your pranks gone wrong. Remember when they made those toy wands that apparated me to the roof?”
“Shut up, Git.” George snapped again and it was silent for a bit.
“Your folks are upset - with good reason. Ginny was awful sad, but . . . she and the other girls disappeared last night. They took half-blood girls and . . . Hermione, too.”
A gasp responded but no further conversation followed, so Harry found his bed, crawled onto the rough muslin sheets that covered a straw mattress and let sleep claim him.
Morning was a shocking experience, especially as it included a bucket of ice cold water coming through the door and a loud, high-pitched screeching. That it was her second day of such treatment did nothing to diminish the effect and Hermione crawled from the soggy pallet to her feet and followed the irritable woman to her daily chores.
Yesterday, when she had risen, they had taken her clothes, left her with some rags and linens to use instead and set her to a day filled with scrubbing, mopping and running. She had to clean a stack of cauldrons and pots, the muggle way, and then sort through a pile of identical tunics until she had seven stacks of folded fabric, from smallest to largest and the ones with attached ties separated from those without.
Today, she was immediately sent to the kitchens where pots of tea were brewing and loaves of sweet breads baked.
“These trays go to the rooms down the hall. The guard will let you in. Leave one per room and do not speak to the girls in the rooms. Is that quite clear?” the woman's scolding was not necessary, she had learned last evening the punishment for speaking with one of the other girls. Pansy had scoffed at her clothes and dirty skin and all she had said was, “I wasn't allowed a bath, yet.”
Three lashes and a knock to the shoulder were her reward.
Hermione skittered along the hall, carrying two trays at once, and stood outside of the first door. Inside, she found Angelina Johnson, a girl she remembered from previous years, and summers at the Weasley home. Angie was dating Fred and they had planned a winter wedding. “Mione, how did you get here?”
Hermione shook her head, placed the tray on the little table and rushed out the door. She hated being so rude to the girl, but wasn't about to be punished this early in her day. The next door was easier, since it opened to the room where Marietta Edgecomb was kept.
The list went on, next was Tracey Davis, then Luna, and then the Patil twins, together in a corner room. Next was Romilda Vane, then Hermione was back in Pansy's room, but this time she managed to avoid talking, and then Lisa Turpin and finally Cho Chang.
Once out of this hall, Hermione was directed to the rooms upstairs where she found more elaborate rooms with surprising inhabitants.
Behind the first door was one of Hermione's favorite teachers, Professor Sinistra, next was an older student, Penelope Clearwater, then another instructor, Professor Vector and last before the corner room, was Hestia Jones. Hermione remembered her from the Order of the Phoenix meetings.
The guard skipped the corner room and led Hermione on around the turn and to the next door. Here Narcissa Malfoy was waiting and Hermione finally lost her composure, which once again led to her punishment.
“Mrs. Malfoy!” she gulped out. “Why are you here?”
“I presume for the same reason as my husband, if this is where all kidnapped pure-bloods are being kept. Why are you here, girl? You are no pure.”
“No, I'm not. They don't keep me with the others, so I don't know . . . but I thought only students . .”
“I was under the impression that you were a bright girl. I suppose that was an exaggeration.” Even as the woman sneered this, the guard yanked on Hermione's hair and dragged her from the room.
“You aren't to talk.” he snarled as he hurled her toward a wall. She hit hard, slamming her head against the stone and loosing consciousness.
Harry woke to the sound of metal banging against metal and he rose to see two guards walking along the front of the cells, opening portions of the bars so that buckets could be pushed out and food taken in. Spells that Harry didn't recognize emptied the buckets and they were shoved back inside. When the guards had finished this task, they collected empty plates and dropped them into a rolling basket.
Harry was given his meal, some bread and broth, and ignored by both guards. He watched as they pushed the cart out of a door and then returned to the cell next to his, where Malfoy was kept, and opened the door.
“What do you want?” the blond snapped as one guard entered and subdued him.
Without a wand, the burly guards were far superior to any of the prisoners, and Malfoy fought, but it was useless. He was dragged out, his arms squeezed to his sides as the man held him off of the floor, kicking futilely at the muscular legs of the enforcer.
When Malfoy returned, it was over an hour later, and he was in much different condition. For one thing, he was unconscious, and for another, his clothing had been removed and all he had now was a plain beige shift that hung barely over his bits.
Harry watched as the guards floated him into his cell and left him on the bed, to move on to George.
This continued on for most of the day, until finally Neville was taken and Malfoy had begun to stir. Harry waited until the room was empty and called over to the blond. “Malfoy? Hey. Are you okay?”
“Merlin, what have they done?” Malfoy snarled, sounding like he was thrashing about in his cell. “The perverts. When I get out of here . . . Potter? What's happened?”
“That's what I was going to ask you. They took everyone out. You're the only one to wake up, so far. What happened?”
“Well, I've been violated, that's what happened. And my clothes! They're barbarians.”
“Those tunics aren't that bad.” Harry said.
“Coming from the best dressed muggle bum of Hogwarts, I don't suppose they are. At least there appears to be a warming charm. Probably built into the cloth.” Malfoy's face appeared in the bars and Harry noted he looked pinched, more than usual. “It's not that they are uncomfortable, but one stiff breeze and I'm exposed.”
“So, other than your wardrobe complaints, what have they done?”
“That is a personal matter, Potter. I'd prefer not to talk about it.”
“Fine. I'll ask Ron, when he wakes up. I wonder if you all had the same treatment.”
“I'd prefer not to think about that, either.” Draco snorted and turned around, leaning against the bars. “Did anything else happen while I was asleep?”
“Been kinda quiet.” Harry had a thought, and though it was a bit embarrassing, he decided to voice it. “They didn't give me a bucket.”
“What?”
“You all have buckets, to use as toilets. I guessed. I didn't get one and I'm kinda feeling a need.”
Draco spun around and leaned in, smirking like he was holding back a laugh. “Potter, you do have some terrifically bad luck, don't you?”
“Very funny. Don't even think of reviving that old Potty/Potter shit, either.”
“Aptly spoken, Potter. I'll refrain from . . . Potty shit.” at this Draco couldn't suppress the bark of laughter and it was joined from the next cell.
“He's lost it, you know.” George said when Draco kept on laughing far longer than needed.
“I think he's hysterical, actually. Hey, Malfoy? Malfoy? Draco!”
Silence for one second, before “What!”
“It's not that funny,” George supplied. “Harry, they've shoved something up my bum! I think I've lost my virginity.”
“You've lost something, George. But you were no virgin.” Harry quipped and George laughed. “So, that's the big mystery, Malfoy?”
“Shut it, Potter.” Draco snarked and before Harry could respond, the door opened and the guards returned with Neville. When he was back in his cell, the two guards narrowed in on Harry and manhandled him from his cage.
The small room where they took him was set up like a muggle exam room, with a potions lab to one side. Harry was strapped onto the table, his legs tied onto the metal stirrups and his arms above his head. His clothes were sliced away with a knife and he was left, naked and exposed.
The need for the toilet had not left him, and squirming didn't help much.
When the door opened, the priestess entered and stood between Harry's feet.
“So, little beast boy, how are you liking you new home?”
“Not much, thank you.” Harry returned hoping to get a rise, but she only smiled and put a hand on his belly, with just enough force to make him even more uncomfortable.
“It gonna get a lot worse, boi. We gonna make it so you done have to worry much bout dis, kay?” she said with a quick push on his belly that made him groan. She pulled out a bucket and put in at the end of the table. Next she brought a potion flask, put it inside of the bucket, moved a stool and sat between his legs.
Harry could barely see the top of her head, as she leaned forward and placed something on the tip of his penis. It got warm and spread over him like honey, coating him completely. When he felt it cooling, he realized it was also hardening. Next, she pushed something into the slit of his dick and he felt it burn down his urethra. His cry was ignored.
Suddenly, the priestess put her hand back on his belly and pushed down with more force, but this time Harry wasn't able to hold back and his pee flowed out, through the thing she had inserted in him and into the flask. He knew this because she held it up after and eyed him through the yellow liquid.
“Good, good. You make good pee pee, beast-boy.” She capped the bottle and put it aside, taking out a jar and opening it. Then she took a strange tool from a drawer and returned to her stool. “Now, you gonna make some poo, beast.” she said as she pushed the tool into Harry's anus. It felt strange, but not terrible, and then she did something to it that burned and tore at him. This time he screamed. His arse was being spread open, forced wider than he thought it could go. It hurt so much that he kept screaming until his throat hurt and she finally released him, pulling it free and tossing it into a sink across the room.
Harry was panting, trying to catch his breath, and his heart beat madly in his chest. He vaguely noted that she was carrying the bucket away, and when she returned, she scooped out some of the goo that was in the jar and spread it over his abused opening. It tingled and warmed, soothing the muscles and tightening the flesh back.
“Now, you just like a lil baby. Like nobody never touched you, you know.”
“What?” he gasped.
“Dat cream make you tight like before. It better, cause it make you stay tight. Now, you keep you poo until Lanie wants it, see?”
Harry shook his head, but she just smiled and patted his leg. Before she left, she removed the tube and shoved something smaller into his prick, telling him that his wastes were hers to command, and he wouldn't be allowed to do either until the next day, when he would be brought back to her. With that, she departed and Harry was left bound to the table for nearly an hour, before the two guards came back, released him and handed him one of the tunics to put on.
When he walked back into the dungeon, he was greeted by all of his classmates, awake and leaning on the bars of their cells.
“Harry, you okay?” Ron called and Harry nodded to him. How could he tell them what the bitch had done, or what was to be his curse for the duration his time here.
Hermione felt someone shaking her and she slapped the hand away. It returned and this time captured her hand before she could repeat the move.
“It's time for you to get up, Mudblood.” the voice said, and the tone, more than the words, got her moving. This was not the screeching woman who had set her to her tasks, but a deep baritone male voice. She scrambled away, breaking the hold on her hand and falling off the other side of her pallet.
“Who are you?”
“My name is unimportant, Mudblood. All you need to know is that I am in charge. I run this castle, I maintain it, and I make the rules. You are a servant here. You and your ilk are worth nothing more, and you will do your jobs, do them well, and refrain from speaking with your betters. Provided you do this, you will have no problems here.”
Hermione watched as the large man's silhouette moved away from the light and his features became more apparent. She had never seen him before, but he reminded her of a painting from the lower halls of Hogwarts. She leaned closer, squinting at him, when he reached out and backhanded her across the cell and into the wall. She slumped down, shaking with fear and pain, until the voice returned.
“Dare not to look into the face of your betters, Mudblood. Do that again, and I will kill you. Now, enough lazing about. Get to work!”
Hermione scrambled to her feet and rushed around the big man and out into the halls. She scurried to the kitchens where the woman had a new set of trays ready.
When night came, a guard led her to a room on the fifth floor where she was shoved onto a bed, her rags stripped away and her arms and legs bound across the mattress.
The next sound she heard was the voice of the man and it was not a welcome tone. “As a servant, your tasks include the comfort and happiness of your master and his guests. You've taken care of the guests, but the master has needs. Tonight, you will satisfy me.” and her nightmare got even more real.
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