Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 291248 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 17
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
- 19
- 20
- 21
Dawn of a New Day

“Who goes there?” barked a high-pitched surly voice somewhere in the cobwebby dark hall as the gas-lamps sputtered to life.
Harriet and Hermione peered around the gloomy hall for the source of the voice, seeing nothing but threadbare carpet, peeling wallpaper, dusty pictures, an umbrella stand, and what looked uncomfortably like a row of shrunken House-Elf heads mounted along one wall. It smelled a bit mildewy and musty and unquestionably looked like a house which might belong to Dark wizards or creepy muggles.
Sirius groaned. Despite entering as quietly as possible, his mother’s portrait had either heard, or already been awake.
“Hello mother,” he said dryly to the crabbity looking elderly woman in the portrait.
The portrait looked stunned for a moment. “Sirius, is that really you?”
“Yes Mum, fresh out of Azkaban.”
“Oh Sirius, dear,” the portrait of Sirius’s mother beamed. “You can’t imagine how delighted I was to discover that you had betrayed that horrid boy and his pet Mudblood! Your father and I had despaired of you ever returning to the fold - but you came around in the end, joining the Dark Lord on his noble mission to rid the world of Mudbloods and Filth.
“Your friend is another warrior of the cause I presume, but who are these naked little toys with you? Pet muggles perhaps?”
Sirius rolled his eyes, deciding that now wasn’t the best time to tell his mother’s portrait that they were a werewolf, a Muggleborn, and that “horrid boy’s” daughter.
“Introductions can wait Mother. It’s late, and we’re tired and hungry. I don’t suppose Kreacher’s around?”
“The poor dear is asleep, but he keeps some food in the pantry and the cold-box.”
“That will do nicely,” said Sirius. “We can fend for ourselves. Good night Mother.”
“Right then...” Sirius faced Harriet and Hermione. “Would you like to have a nice hot shower and go to bed first? Remus and I can whip something up and bring it to you in bed, or we can just eat in the kitchen now.
“Er... It doesn’t really matter,” Harriet squeaked nervously.
On the one hand, the rain hadn’t washed very much of the Shokushu semen from Harriet’s body and a hot shower sounded brilliant. On the other, she was dead-tired and she knew that she’d probably fall asleep before getting a chance to eat some real food if she went to bed.
But Harriet also felt a bit anxious and embarrassed about sitting naked in a kitchen with two men she didn’t really know - which seemed very weird considering the last couple of months being naked in front of hundreds of people every day.
Maybe it had something to do with being in what almost seemed like a normal house - despite looking a bit haunted - in the middle of London. There was something very surreal about the whole situation, caught between the prospect of an almost normal life with almost normal people, and the wizard world where everything was topsy-turvy.
In the wizard world, being a naked slave in front of loads of wizards seemed kind of normal now; in a house in the middle of London it felt like one of those dreams of being naked in - well, in a normal school, or in a normal neighbour’s house, or in the middle of London with normal people staring at you.
Harriet almost wondered if it was all a dream and if she would wake up in her cage back at Hogwarts - and she didn’t know what was real any more.
Harriet felt someone squeeze her hand and give her a kiss on the cheek. It was Hermione; Harriet’s nerves began to settle a bit and with a deep sigh of relief she let out the breath she had been holding the whole time. She may be inside a dream, but Hermione was real - that much she knew.
“I think something to eat first,” Hermione told Sirius boldly. “I think Harriet’s a bit freaked out and exhausted. She’s had a really, really long day! ... She’ll probably feel a bit better after some food first and then a good night’s sleep.”
“Of course,” said Sirius sadly. “Come on then, follow me.”
Hermione sat down on one of the dusty, ornately carved wooden chairs around the sturdy oak table and pulled Harriet onto her lap, cuddling her and giving her little kisses.
Watching Remus and Sirius bustling around the kitchen, listening to the hiss of a gas stove lighting and clattering pots and pans, the dream took on an almost bucolic tone and Harriet began to drift in Hermione’s arms.
Remus gave Sirius a nudge. “I think she’s asleep.”
Sirius glanced over at the slumbering girl on Hermione’s lap and swallowed, rubbing at his stinging eyes. He had been about to cast some transfiguration spells to make whatever Harriet’s favourite food was.
“Er... what does she like best,” Sirius asked Hermione, his voice hoarse.
“Well, before, erm... We didn’t really know each other very well. But I saw Harriet choosing roast beef and mashed potatoes or shepherd’s pie at dinner, and that’s usually what she picked the times when we were in the hospital wing.”
“Shepherd’s pie it is then,” said Remus. “Of the two that might be the most comforting on an unsettled stomach.
Remus and Sirius transfigured the loaves of bread and slabs of cheese they had found in the pantry and cold box into the necessary items and began chopping potatoes and mixing spices into ground beef.
Harriet blinked her eyes open, smelling delicious smells, when Hermione stroked her hair and murmured, “Harriet, dinner’s ready,” in her ear.
Harriet grinned to see a delicious looking shepherd’s pie on the table accompanied by a tureen of gravy, Yorkshire puddings, and peas and carrots.
“My favourite,” she said. “How did you know?”
“Hermione,” Sirius replied simply, beaming at Harriet as he began serving out the food. “She seems to know you very well.”
“Oh, yeah, she does.” Harriet grinned at Hermione. “Hermione’s brilliant!”
Harriet made to get off Hermione’s lap to sit on her own chair, still feeling very weird even though Sirius and Remus weren’t paying any attention at all to her naked breasts and bare slit.
“You don’t have to get up, Harriet,” said Hermione. “I don’t mind sharing a plate with you.”
“Thanks Hermione.” Harriet breathed a sigh of relief. She really didn’t want to let go of Hermione right now.
Sirius filled the plate which Harriet and Hermione were sharing several times before they slowed down and looked satisfied. Finished, they both began yawning.
“Alright, let’s find a relatively dust and cobweb free bedroom for you two,” said Sirius. “With a bit of luck it’ll be right next to a bathroom where you can take a quick shower.”
Thankfully, Sirius did manage find a bedroom which wasn’t in too bad a state and right next to one of the bathrooms. He returned to the kitchen and led them upstairs, Remus trailing behind.
“Hermione,” Harriet whispered as they climbed up the staircase and peered around the different landings seeing a number of doors, “maybe I really am just dreaming right now, but does it seem like the house is bigger on the inside than the outside to you?”
“I think it must be,” Hermione agreed. “The other terrace houses seemed to only have two storeys looking at them from the outside. This one has at least four aboveground inside, plus the lower level with the kitchen.”
After Sirius and Remus left them to it, still in her dreamlike state Harriet let Hermione lead her into the bathroom where they enjoyed their first proper shower in weeks which wasn’t just washing off in the rain or licking each other clean. She luxuriated in the feeling of hot, steamy water and foamy soap as Hermione rubbed her all over.
Fortunately, Remus was quite good with householdy magic and they found some clean, fluffy white towels waiting for them when they got out of the shower. The only things that Hermione really missed in particular were toothbrushes and toothpaste. She supposed that Sirius or Remus would probably have to buy those somewhere.
And finally, at long last, they both collapsed on a soft four-poster bed in the bedroom next door.
More often than not, at nights Hermione snuggled on top of Harriet as best as she could in those awful chains, her head on Harriet’s shoulder, but this night Harriet curled up under the crook of Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione smiled and stroked Harriet’s silky, clean hair, giving the top of her head a kiss. Seemingly without a thought, as if on automatic pilot, Harriet’s lips found Hermione’s nearest nipple and she began to suck, falling quickly asleep with it still in her mouth.
~o0o~
Remus opened the liquor cabinet in one of the upstairs parlours, pleased to see a good variety of bottles. He blew the dust from one which looked promising.
“Brandy? It’s Dragon Barrel - your family had good taste in liquor at least.”
Sirius thought for a second, wondering if he should have something stiffer, then he nodded.
“Yes please.”
As he poured the aged brandy into two crystal snifters, filling them to the brim, Remus peered at Sirius. It was unusual to see Sirius, of all people, looking so lost.
“Everything will work out eventually,” said Remus gently. “Now they’ve got us to look after them.”
Sirius nodded again glumly, then he said, “It’s just - it hurts seeing Harriet looking so frightened. She doesn’t know us. ... And what are we going to do if that bloody curse is permanent? They’re not going to like being cooped up here forever - and what about schooling? ... and...”
“Drink this,” Remus ordered, passing Sirius one of the goblets; Sirius opened his mouth but Remus forestalled him. “Ah - not another word right now. Drink that down and I’ll pour us another.”
Sirius obeyed and drained the snifter in three large gulps.
“We’ll think of something - even if that damn curse is permanent,” said Remus as he poured them both two more. “For now, until we do, it’s up to us to make them feel at home, and they’ll eventually get used to us.
“I’ll pop back to my place tomorrow and bring back the television and stereo system. ... I have a bit of muggle money and I can buy a VCR and some videotapes and records that they might like. I’m quite handy with the charm to make muggle electronics work with magic instead.
“That, and Number Twelve’s library will keep them occupied for a bit while we spend the next few weeks cleaning and fixing this place up. Then, you and I are both more than qualified to teach them all seven years’ worth of every bloody subject at Hogwarts if we have to.”
“But what about being cooped up...?”
“We’ll find some nice out-of-the-way places to apparate them to once a week or so - throw up some concealment and protection charms around the area and they’ll be able get a bit of fresh air. Buck up Sirius, we’ll get this all worked out.”
Sirius smiled wanly at his partner in crime and nodded.
“I don’t know how I could’ve done this without you, Remus. Thanks for everything...”
Sirius suddenly found himself cut off, Remus’s brandy flavoured lips pressed against his. They kissed steamily for a few minutes, embracing one another.
“No thanks necessary Sirius,” said Remus when their lips parted. “I’d do anything for Harriet - and her poor friend... and for you! Now that we have each other again, we can do anything we set our minds to - we can make a family here. Maybe we can even find Hermione’s parents for her and see if we can’t undo whatever the Ministry did to them.”
“Of course,” Sirius agreed worriedly. “As long as they don’t try to take her away from Harriet. I think it would break her at the moment if she didn’t have Hermione. You saw how attached they were.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Remus wisely, giving Sirius another kiss.
~o0o~
“So, Albus, perhaps you would like to tell me how it is that Filius and I came to find you unconscious, Severus and Quirrell dead... and a newly dead Peter Pettigrew when all had believed him dead ten years ago?”
Professor McGonagall peered at the headmaster in his hospital bed through narrowed, steely eyes, curious as to what story he would tell. Over the last few hours she and Flitwick had been reconsidering the narrative to account for all the apparent facts and reasoned that it was best to let Dumbledore himself try to fill in some of the blanks.
The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls had been sent back to bed with strict instructions to never breathe a word of the events except amongst themselves. Argus Filch’s memory had been altered, and now he believed that he alone had come across the scene of carnage in the Great Hall and had woken herself and Filius to inform them of the disaster.
Then she and Filius had decided to make Pettigrew's corpse appear as if he had also been a victim of Harriet's accidental magic - removing the forearm with the Dark Mark to match Snape's "amputation." It had been rather distasteful, but it seemed a wise precautionary measure, no matter which narrative eventually became "official."
Dumbledore peered back at the deputy headmistress cagily with his crystal blue eyes.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what became of Harry Potter and Miss Granger?” he said, answering McGonagall with a question.
“I can only presume that being in a heightened emotional state after enduring weeks of rather...extreme sexual servitude, at least one of them unleashed an immensely powerful burst of accidental magic. They wanted to escape, and the magic responded to their intentions,” McGonagall replied frostily. “But that doesn’t explain how three professors and two Death Eaters ended up on the floor of the Great Hall.”
“Two Death Eaters?” Dumbledore actually looked surprised.
“Yes! Two!” McGonagall snapped. “Filius, and Poppy and I discovered Peter Pettigrew missing a forearm - one which no doubt had a Dark Mark before it exploded - when we examined his body. I am well aware that Severus was also at one time a Death Eater before supposedly seeing the error of his ways and spying on Voldemort for the Order - his forearm was missing too.”
“Pettigrew, a Death Eater!” said Dumbledore, his eyes distant. “This changes things.”
“Indeed!” said McGonagall crisply. “I presume that you will press the Ministry to call off the hunt for Sirius Black and to issue a full pardon immediately. Clearly Pettigrew framed him for all of the crimes - betraying the Potters - murdering a dozen muggles...”
“Yes - yes of course!” Dumbledore nodded pensively, drifting back into silence.
“Well?” said McGonagall impatiently. “I’m still waiting for an explanation - hopefully you will have your facts straight before Scrimgeour arrives.”
Dumbledore raised his bushy white eyebrows at McGonagall’s choice of words, the cagey look returning to his eyes.
“What do you think happened?” he asked.
McGonagall rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Do you really want to know what I think?”
Dumbledore nodded.
“Very well then,” McGonagall began. “At the beginning of the year, you requested that Rubeus, Filius, Severus, Pomona, and I provide our expertise to design an obstacle course of sorts in order to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. ... As to whom you were intending to protect it from, you were quite vague.
“I think you were protecting it from Voldemort - except you weren’t really, were you? You were using it to entice Voldemort into a trap, to lure him out of wherever his disembodied form has been hiding these past ten years. I believe you were using it, and Potter, as bait, hoping to put an end to him once and for all.
“I believe the Stone was stolen yesterday afternoon while everyone was watching Potter being assaulted by that monster - I believe that you were alerted to that fact - I believe that either Quirrell was being possessed, or that Pettigrew was, and that you and Severus were lying in wait last night to see who would arrive to eliminate Potter after having successfully stolen the Stone.
“How am I doing so far? ... Am I getting warm yet?”
Dumbledore’s eyes began to twinkle. “Perceptive as always, Minerva. By all means, continue.”
“Right! Now this is where it gets a bit murky - Quirrell and Pettigrew both show up, most likely working together...”
“Quirrell was the only one that Severus and I saw before I was knocked unconscious,” Dumbledore admitted. “And apparently he was indeed being possessed by Voldemort. He was about to attempt to kill Harry and that is the last thing I can recall.”
“Hmm...” McGonagall arched an eyebrow, pleased with the way the conversation was progressing. By the time they were finished, no doubt Dumbledore himself would be crafting a suitable narrative to tell the public - one which at the very least would exonerate Sirius Black.
“Well then,” she continued, “the most likely turn of events is that Potter reacted to Voldemort’s attack the same way as she did when she was an infant, with an explosive burst of accidental magic, killing Quirrell - and Voldemort with him - killing Severus and Pettigrew as well, and knocking you unconscious.
“The burst of magic also facilitated Potter and Granger’s escape. The only real mystery then is Pettigrew’s involvement. But it seems to me that he was indeed working with Quirrell and Voldemort, and was under a Disillusionment Charm at the time, as you and Severus no doubt were yourselves.”
Dumbledore stroked his long silvery beard and nodded. “Yes, that does seem to fit all of the available facts.”
“Indeed,” said McGonagall dryly. “So, now we have a good idea of what happened, what next? What do you want to tell Scrimgeour and Cornelius? Do you want to reveal that you had laid a trap for Voldemort, whom you believed to still be alive? And that he turned out to be possessing one of your staff-members and was being supported by Peter Pettigrew?”
Dumbledore sighed, clearly distressed at the idea of letting the public know even a fraction of his plans. Then he nodded.
“Yes! The truth can sometimes be a dangerous thing, but I think in this instance, it is the wisest course of action, explaining all of the events.”
“Very good! Thank you! That makes things simpler for me and Filius. Now, how are you planning on handling Potter and Granger’s escape? Especially as it seems that Potter has once again defeated Voldemort - hopefully permanently this time.”
Dumbledore frowned as he pondered what was clearly an even more difficult conundrum for him.
“Harry’s escape presents a problem to the stability of the wizard world,” he finally stated. “Yes, he did defeat Voldemort again, but with another dangerously powerful, uncontrollable outburst of magic. It rather proves the point I made to the Daily Prophet regarding the incalculable harm he could cause others, don’t you think?
“Just look at how many he has killed without a second thought. He is a weapon of mass destruction that will only increase in power over time. ... Such immense power must be kept in check! ... But Harry’s lack of impulse control, his propensity for extreme violence, and his disrespect for authority - taken all together, they demonstrate that he cannot possibly hope to rein himself in, even if he were willing to try, and I have seen little evidence yet that he is so willing.
“It may not seem entirely fair, but his being a Receptacle is the kindest thing we could do for Harry - giving him a purpose beyond violence, death, and destruction - providing a necessary service satisfying the entertainment and sexual needs of others. ... Not to mention the political import of being such a shining symbol of peaceful unity to those muggle-born-and-raised who would seek to disrupt our society for their own selfish gain. Harry’s Receptacle status is of benefit to all, including himself.
“The only other option would be to put him down, and that seems a cruel way to repay him for ridding us of Voldemort. I shall have to design a new, more indestructible collar just for him of course. The Compulsion Collars are clearly not strong enough to contain his raw power. ... The sooner we find Harry and Granger and return them to Hogwarts the better it will be for everyone.”
Professor McGonagall sighed inwardly and arched her eyebrows. She hadn’t really expected any better and was simply hopeful that Black and Lupin had the girls in a safe place.
~o0o~
Bemused, Dumbledore watched Professor McGonagall striding out of the hospital wing with a taut expression on her face. He sighed, knowing that she didn’t approve of the way he was handling the Harry Potter situation. She had gradually come to accept the Grand Bargain and even come to appreciate some of its more prurient aspects over the years, but apparently the treatment of Harry and the Granger girl was just a bridge too far.
Dumbledore shook his head then wished he hadn’t as it began throbbing again. He slumped back against his pillow, thinking that Harry Potter was very lucky that he, Albus Dumbledore, was a very magnanimous person.
If he weren’t so pleased that Voldemort was now gone forever, and if he weren’t such a forgiving person, Dumbledore would be considering taking more drastic steps for dealing with Harry Potter.
It was bad enough that he, Dumbledore, was laid up in the hospital wing contending with a concussion, and numerous broken bones and a cracked skull - which fortunately hadn’t required Skelegro - but Severus Snape was now dead, his brain turned into mush, his body mutilated. It was a tragedy that a man who had suffered and sacrificed so much in his life would come to such an ignominious end.
There was no question in Dumbledore’s mind that capturing Harry Potter and putting him back in that cage was the fairest solution for all. Voices interrupted Dumbledore’s reverie. He looked up and saw Pomfrey in hushed conversation with someone who had just arrived in the hospital wing.
“Poppy,” he called out, “you may allow Lucius entry. He and I have important business to discuss.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” said Madam Pomfrey severely. “However, it isn’t even dawn yet, and if you wish to leave the infirmary by dinner, you need to sleep to allow the healing time to set.”
“I shan’t be long Poppy. I just need to update Lucius on the events before I speak with Rita Skeeter...”
“What? You’re having another visitor?” Pomfrey snapped.
“Yes!” said Dumbledore serenely, “It is imperative that the Daily Prophet be notified of last night’s events in time to be featured in the morning edition of the paper. And Head of the DMLE Scrimgeour will also be paying a visit.”

Pomfrey threw up her hands in frustration. “Fine! I wash my hands of it, Albus. Just let me know when you’re finished so I can dose you with sleeping potions.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he regarded the annoyed school nurse.
“Of course, Poppy. Now, if you please, I need a few moments of privacy with Lucius.”
The lanky warlock with long platinum hair took a seat at Dumbledore’s bed-side and raised his eyebrows at the headmaster as they waited for Pomfrey to depart the ward.
“Well, Albus,” Lucius Malfoy began, “this is a surprise - first Severus, now you with serious injuries. May I assume that it has something to do with why you sent for me at this early hour?”
“Indeed!” Dumbledore nodded and winced again. He really needed to stop doing that. “I have some good news and some bad news.”
“Oh?”
Dumbledore paused for a moment to consider which news to give Malfoy first. Finally, he decided and heaved a sigh.
“The good news is that Voldemort is finished - dead and gone!”
Malfoy looked stunned, then his features broke into a smile.
“Well, that is good news indeed, Albus! So - unless there are more Horcruxes...”
“He is dead for good this time!” Dumbledore nodded again. Damn! He really needed to stop doing that - concussions were serious business, even with healing magic at his disposal. “...And as you and I have determined, he had only made five Horcruxes with his wand - and we destroyed them all. So I am nearly one hundred percent certain that this world shall never be darkened with his presence again.”
“Excellent! Truly excellent! ... Now - the bad news?”
“Severus is dead, and Harry Potter has escaped!” Dumbledore sighed again, feeling ancient and weary.
“WHAT?” Malfoy’s beaming smile slid from his face. “How? What the hell happened?”
“I am afraid that I have kept something from you, Lucius. It was necessary to play everything close to the vest. ... No-one but Severus knew of my plan - though even he was not informed of every minutiae. You recall, of course, that I had removed the Philosopher’s Stone from Gringotts...”
“Yes! You had concerns that it might be stolen and believed it would be safer here.”
“Quite so,” Dumbledore agreed, being very careful not to nod this time. “Though in truth, I used it - or rather, a facsimile of it, hiding the real one in a place no-one would ever think to look - to lure Voldemort out of hiding. I had more than a sneaking suspicion that he was, in fact, possessing a member of my staff.
“And indeed he was. My plan entailed enticing him to steal the Stone, and then...”
“And then enticing him to kill Potter, knowing he couldn’t resist the opportunity,” said Lucius, light dawning. “You and Severus, you lay in wait in the Great Hall and killed the Dark Lord before he had the chance to murder Potter. ... So the Dark Lord killed Severus in the battle, and you finished off the Dark Lord yourself...”
“Not quite,” Dumbledore interjected, “though not so far off the mark. I presumed - correctly - that Harry was still protected by the magic which had protected him previously...”
“You were never quite clear about that, though,” said Malfoy. “Was it Potter’s accidental magic which protected him, or something else?”
“Of that, I am still uncertain,” Dumbledore replied, deeming it wise to keep the knowledge of Lily Potter’s sacrificial magic to himself. “Regardless, as I said, Potter did indeed respond to Voldemort’s attack as he had before, producing the most powerful outburst of accidental magic I have ever witnessed.
“Voldemort’s Killing Curse struck Harry, and he survived, as before, and his outburst killed Voldemort, as before. Unfortunately, Severus was caught in the blast. ... He might not have died, but rather, been injured as I myself was - but apparently his Dark Mark was enough for Harry’s magic to recognise him as an agent of Voldemort.
“The arm upon which the Mark resided was blown to smithereens, and Severus’s nervous system was attacked, liquifying his brain. I heard his screams before I fell into unconsciousness...” Dumbledore shuddered slightly. “Pray that you never hear such screams.”
Malfoy paled, understanding all too well Dumbledore’s unspoken insinuation.
“There is one last interesting piece of information,” Dumbledore continued. “Another Death Eater was discovered, also killed by Potter’s magic - Peter Pettigrew...”
Astonishment crossed Malfoy’s features once more. “So Black...”
“...Is innocent, yes! Cornelius and Scrimgeour will of course be issuing a full pardon to Sirius Black once Scrimgeour has verified that it is indeed Pettigrew.”
“My word!” said Malfoy softly. “So one fugitive is exonerated, and Potter herself is now a fugitive.”
“Quite so! Harry, as dangerous as he is, will be captured and returned to Hogwarts as a Receptacle. It seems to be the most even-handed approach.”
“Yes! Yes of course,” Malfoy muttered. “It would be politically unwise to eliminate Potter, given her defeat of Voldemort once more, but she is clearly a danger to all. Your counsel is as politic as always, Albus.”
Dumbledore took the compliment in stride, his eyes twinkling.
~o0o~
The red-haired ten-year-old girl still in her nightie retrieved the two copies of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet from the family owl who had just returned from Devon County’s wizarding Newsagent and knew that the issue must have a feature on Harry Potter. She had a standing order with the Newsagent for a second copy of any issue with Harry Potter which she paid for with her own pocket money.
Given the family’s tight budget, she didn’t get much pocket money, but it was enough to cover the extra copies, and leave a bit left over to save up to buy something nice once or twice a year at Diagon Alley. Her brother Ron never bothered saving his up, splurging on sweets and comics on every visit to Diagon Alley. Then he would moan about how he never had anything nice.
The red-haired girl raced up the rickety stairs to her room with the newspapers and flung herself on her bed with them, her eyes boggling at the front page. Emblazoned across the top the headline read: Girl-Who-Lived Kills You-Know-Who Again and Escapes From Hogwarts.
Like the last article about Harry Potter, this one was accompanied with a number of explicit photos of a very naked girl-Harry being forced to do loads of horrible, ghastly things.
This time, girl-Harry was being violated by House-Elves, a Giant Squid, and some sort of Japanese monster called a Shokushu. There were even a couple of pictures of girl-Harry’s bushy-haired friend with Ron’s pet rat poking his little head out of her slit.
The red-haired girl still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about her hero being turned into a girl, but she couldn’t really say she was displeased. It was still Harry, even if he was a girl now, and he - she - looked very pretty as a girl.
The red-haired girl was very puzzled as to why the idea of girl-Harry seemed so nice to her. She was supposed to like boys, wasn’t she? And she still wasn’t sure why the nasty, horrible pictures made her want to finger herself until she got that tingly feeling all over which felt so good. She knew the boys were being mean to girl-Harry, but she couldn’t help that feeling.
As she gawked at the pictures, the red-haired girl rucked up her nightie and tugged off her knickers, ignoring the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs from the kitchen. She began to finger her hot, damp slit and diddled herself for a few minutes, pushing her fingers in deeper and deeper, feeling guilty the entire time.
When the red-haired girl flushed, feeling those nice tingles as her cheeks grew warmer, she found the little button at the top of her slit that always sent her over-the-top and started to toggle it. In no time she was panting, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as her chest heaved and her heart raced.
The tingles swelled, rushing through her body from head to toe and making her feel dizzy. she shuddered and let out a little squeak then slumped back against her pillow, basking in the afterglow, her chest still heaving.
“Ginny! Ginny, where are you? Breakfast’s almost ready,” her mother’s voice called up the stairs from below.
Startled, her cheeks now pink with embarrassment, Ginny leapt off her bed, the hem of her nightie falling to her ankles. In her rush to appease her mother before Mum got cross, Ginny didn’t bother pulling her knickers back on.
“Coming Mum,” she shouted loudly as she flung open her door and grabbed the other copy of the Daily Prophet.
“And do you have the newspaper?” Mum yelled back. “I see Errol, but no Daily Prophet.”
“Yes, I’ve got it,” Ginny squeaked as she thundered down the stairs. “And you’re never going to believe it Mum. Harry Potter - Harriet Potter I mean - she’s escaped - and she killed You-Know-Who again.”
Mum snatched the paper out of Ginny’s hands, her eyes popping as she read the headline. Then they narrowed when she spotted the photos. Ginny gulped nervously, then she set her little jaw and glowered back at Mum, preparing for another fight.
“I suppose you’ve already got your copy of the paper hidden then,” Mum growled.
“Yes!” Ginny said defiantly. “It’s my copy! I paid for it. It’s Harry - Harriet Potter, and you know I keep everything with Harry in it! You promised!”
“What’s all the racket in here about?” asked Ginny’s father calmly, poking his head through the kitchen door.
“Another article about Harry Potter - Harriet I mean,” Ginny’s mum snapped. “And it’s got more of those bloody awful pictures...”
“And Mum wants to take away my copy of the paper again!” Ginny shouted.
“I didn’t say that...” Ginny’s mum said wearily.
“But you were thinking it, weren’t you?” Ginny gave her mum a hard stare.
“Oh go on Molly,” sighed Ginny’s father. “It’s no use. She’s already got the first one anyway, and we did promise she could keep it.”
“I know we promised, Arthur...” Mum sighed too. “It’s just - those pictures...”
“Well, it’s not like Ginny hasn’t seen similar before,” Ginny’s father pointed out reasonably, “ever since the Prophet started doing the Page Three Rec... Page Three Girls diddling themselves with toys.”
“I know Arthur. It’s just - those are bad enough - the poor girls are slaves. But the ones of Harriet and her friend are just so dreadful. And I’m still cross about the picture of Ron groping those girls. You should have let me send a Howler.”
“We’ll deal with Ron on the Holidays,” Ginny’s father insisted. “Sending Ron a Howler isn’t really fair to him under the circumstances, what with every other boy on Hogwarts taking advantage of that receptacle nonsense. That’s just the way things are nowadays as long as Malfoy and Dumbledore are in charge...”
“Oh,” said Ginny, suddenly remembering. “That’s another thing. Ron’s being really mean to that other girl - Hermione Granger. Look...”
Ginny grabbed the Daily Prophet from her mother’s hand and showed her father the picture. His jaw dropped, then his face turned purple and she almost thought steam would shoot out of his ears. Ginny didn’t think she had ever seen her father look so angry.
“Bloody hell!” he swore furiously. “Maybe you were right about sending Ron a Howler, Molly. Here, look for yourself!” Ginny’s father thrust the paper back into Mum’s hand.
“WHAT?” she shrieked. “What’s Scabbers doing in that poor girl’s vagina?”
“Apparently living in it,” said Ginny’s father angrily. “Read the side blurb.”
Mum read the blurb aloud. “‘According to Headmaster Dumbledore, the rodent pictured in the Receptacle’s receptacle was originally introduced to the girl by a student as a bit of a lark. The headmaster then allowed the rodent to take up permanent residence in the Receptacle’s vagina for entertainment purposes and offered the boy a new owl in exchange for his pet rat.’”
“That is absolutely disgusting!” Mum screeched when she had finished reading. “When I get my hands on that boy...”
Mum was interrupted by a swooshing sound in the kitchen fireplace. Everyone turned to look to see who was appearing in the Floo. The green flames died down and Ron’s head appeared, grinning sheepishly.
“Hi Mum! Hi Dad!” said Ron, oblivious to the angry expressions on Mum and Dad’s and Ginny’s faces. “Sorry to barge in like this, Professor McGonagall let me use the Floo system because me and Seamus’s wands were stolen sometime last night. ... She says we should go to Diagon Alley today to get new wands, and she gave us both some money from the school to pay for them. Can I come through?”

“Yes dear,” said Mum, in a falsely, dangerously sweet tone of voice. “By all means.”
“Thanks Mum. I’ll be back properly in just a minute then,” said Ron’s head; then he vanished.
Mum shared a dark look with Dad while they waited.
“At least Harriet and the Granger girl escaped,” said Dad, “thank goodness! Hopefully they will have got rid of Scabbers by now.”
“Small mercies,” Mum growled. “I don’t care if I never see that rodent again. He looked all too pleased with himself. ... And I swear, if I find out that the twins and Percy have been abusing those poor girls too...”
Mum trailed off, leaving her threat unspoken when the hearth flared with green flames again...
~o0o~
Harriet’s eyelids fluttered open to see sunlight pouring in through the window and for a disorienting moment had no idea where she was. But she had Hermione’s nipple in her mouth and that calmed her down quickly. Without releasing Hermione’s nipple from her lips, she went over everything she knew.
They were in London and the rain had obviously cleared up, and it was probably getting on for noon. They were in Sirius Black’s house - Sirius was her godfather, and Remus - he was more or less her uncle. Harriet had a family - a family which wasn’t the Dursleys. And she had Hermione.
It wasn’t a dream - it was all real - and she wasn’t in that horrid castle anymore.
Hogwarts! There had been bodies at Hogwarts - dead, bloody bodies - and she had killed them - well, not Pettigrew - that had been her godfather. Harriet had murdered two people - three if Quirrell and Voldemort counted as two people. She didn’t feel as good about that as she had thought she would.
Well, Voldemort she really had no qualms at all about. He had killed her parents - and loads of other people by all accounts. Good riddance!
But as much as she hated Snape with every fibre of her being, as much as she was really glad that Snape was dead - somehow Harriet still felt guilty for killing him. And Quirrell - well, that couldn’t be helped - he was being possessed by Voldemort - and willingly so apparently. But she still felt guilty about his death nonetheless, and she wasn’t even sure why.
It wasn’t until Harriet felt her mouth filling with Hermione’s warm, comforting milk that she realised that she had started sucking Hermione’s nipple again. Suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed, like a pathetic baby who needed her mummy to look after her, Harriet swallowed the milk and stopped sucking, releasing the nipple from her lips.
“Don’t stop,” Hermione murmured, who was apparently already awake, sounding almost pleading. “Not on my account. Yesterday was horrid for you! I know that Shokushu made things as nice as possible under the circumstances - but it was still far more than anyone should be forced to endure - and then dealing with Voldemort, and all that blood and gore. ...
“And it was nice to be rescued, but it was still scary for you meeting two men you’d never seen before - at least not in your memory - and being brought back to their house. That’s too much for anyone to bear all in one day. ... Let me make you feel good a bit more - go on, suck all you want.”
Hermione had said a lot all in a rush, but Harriet’s brain quickly caught up and her embarrassment faded. It wasn’t the first time after all and it had certainly helped her get through the Centaurs. It was just the first time she had felt quite so needy about it.
“I love you, Hermione,” Harriet said quietly, “You make me feel loads better.”
“I love you too, Harriet. Go on then - you make me feel nice too!”
Harriet took Hermione’s erect pink nipple in her mouth again and began to suck; a flood of contentment accompanied Hermione’s flowing milk and she knew that everything was going to work out.
AN: Right, well, my Muse has reached a point in the story where I can now take a break... Just kidding, my Muse is demanding that I get back to work on my other stories. No rest for the weary! So if any of you are following my tamer fare, with a bit of luck and elbow grease I'll be posting more chapters for Damaged Bridges and Yuletide Blessings in Disguise in coming weeks.
In regards to this chapter, you may have noticed that I only mentioned five horcruxes being destroyed. That is because at this point of the story in canon there was no Nagini, and therefore no Nagini horcrux.
And in regards to Harriy/Harriet, nobody, not even Dumbledore, had really guessed that Harry was an unfinished "horcrux" yet in canon. So it is a mystery to Harriet and Hermione what that black goo which came out of Harriet's scar was.
Harry's Parseltongue ability doesn't really come to Dumbledore's attention until Chamber of Secrets, and that is when Dumbledore begins to suspect, putting two and two together when the Diary is also found. So he had no idea that Harriet actually contained a piece of Voldy's soul at this point.
In this version, Lucius turned Riddle's Diary over to Dumbledore as a sign of good faith during negotiations for the Grand Bargain. Dumbledore worked out that it was a horcrux and he and Lucius together tracked down the others over the years.

Responses to reviews from last chapter may be found here:
http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/66891-gandalfs-beard-qa-and-review-replies/
Feel free to discuss anything else which came up for you or ask me questions there too.
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts