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
- 21
- 22
- 23
New Blood

“Well, that was jolly quick,” said Sirius, raising his eyebrows with surprise. “I really didn’t expect McGonagall to have such an easy time making her case for me.”
“Hmm...” Remus stroked his moustache with thumb and forefinger pensively as he continued reading the article. “Well, there is nothing here about McGonagall, but apparently Dumbledore was quite enthusiastic about supporting a narrative in which Peter Pettigrew was aiding Voldemort and Quirrell in their attempt to steal the Philosopher’s Stone and kill Harriet...”
“Ah!” Sirius nodded. “Well, that actually makes more sense than Pettigrew being responsible for Quirrell and Snape’s death.”
“Quite so,” Remus agreed. “In any case, the Minister and Chief Warlock Malfoy were both eager to call for your immediate exoneration given the fact that Pettigrew was the one aiding Voldemort and that you were not...”
“Excellent!” Sirius beamed. “So what about Harriet then? Does this mean that she’s in the clear, or did Dumbledore take all the credit?”
“Well, Harriet is certainly being credited with the deaths of Voldemort, Quirrell, and Pettigrew - and everyone seems to be praising her highly in that regard...” Remus glanced hesitantly at Harriet and Hermione’s, and Sirius’s expectant faces.
Harriet let out a groan, sensing a “but” coming.
Remus sighed. “Unfortunately, Snape’s death - being attributed to Harriet as well - is being used by Dumbledore as evidence that Harriet is still a danger to all. Warlock Malfoy and Dumbledore both insist that it would be better for her to remain a Receptacle as a reward for killing Voldemort and the Wizengamot agreed...”
Sirius’s face fell.
“Of course!” Harriet muttered.
“What?” shrieked Hermione. “How is that a reward?”
“Apparently,” said Remus slowly, reading directly from article, “according to Dumbledore, ‘Harry Potter’s immense power and unstable personality presents great peril to anyone he might perceive to be a threat while he is at large. But it would be heartless to subject him to a Dementor’s Kiss given that he has once again defeated the self-styled Dark Lord - this time permanently. Instead, I propose that Harry be rewarded with another chance to be a productive member of society.’
“Apparently, Dumbledore is going to construct a Receptacle Collar powerful enough to prevent Harriet’s ‘outbursts,’ and indestructible enough to survive them.”
“That filthy, rotten bastard!” Sirius snarled. “Just a few more minutes - if McGonagall had been just a few minutes later, we could have finished him...”
“And then you would still be a fugitive,” Remus sighed. “At least this way you will be able to provide for Harriet and Hermione...”
Remus halted, spying a stooped, wizened figure in the doorway. Sirius, Hermione, and Harriet all turned in their seats to see who or what had caught his attention.
“Master Sirius,” croaked a bullfrog voice.
“Hello Kreacher,” said Sirius warily.
“Mistress said I would find you here...” The ancient looking House-Elf bowed deeply. “Mistress tells Kreacher you are no longer disgraced - that Master Sirius is returned to the fold...”
Kreacher’s eyes - smaller than most house-elves - swiveled, falling upon the two naked young witches at the table and he leered at them. Harriet and Hermione both instinctively covered their breasts and bare slits with their hands, their skin crawling with goosebumps under the wrinkly old House-Elf’s lecherous gaze.
“Two pet muggles,” Kreacher rasped. “Mistress speaks truly!”
Sirius scowled, calculating the risk of telling Kreacher the truth. Then he spotted an unfamiliar golden locket dangling from Kreacher’s neck.
“The locket,” said Sirius, diverting Kreacher’s attention to give himself time to think on it some more, “I don’t recall it.”
“It was Master Regulus’s,” said Kreacher, his features looking torn between grief and pride, tears welling in his eyes, “Master Regulus wished Kreacher to help him fool the Dark Lord. Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to take him to the Dark Lord’s secret cavern with the black lake - a lake of the undead - to the island in the middle. There we stole the Dark Lord’s locket and replaced it with this locket.
“Master Regulus was being dragged under the water by the dead ones. With his dying breaths, Master Regulus told Kreacher to leave - to take the Dark Lord’s locket and destroy it. But Kreacher could not destroy it and Kreacher wept to be bad Elf who had failed his Master’s last wish. ... Then one day, Kreacher was called by Miss Cissy. She asked Kreacher if Kreacher had the Dark Lord’s locket.
“When Kreacher said yes, Warlock Malfoy, he told Kreacher that he and Dumbledore would destroy it, and then he returned Master Regulus’s locket to Kreacher. Kreacher was good Elf once more.”
Sirius goggled at Kreacher, completely flabbergasted by the story.

“So... so that is how Regulus died,” said Sirius hoarsely. “But how did Malfoy and Narcissa know? And why did everyone want to destroy Voldemort’s locket?”
“Kreacher does not know,” croaked the wrinkly old House-Elf. “But Kreacher felt the Dark Magic which prevented its destruction - many powerful Dark spells upon it. Only a powerful wizard could destroy it, and even Kreacher knows that Dumbledore is powerful wizard.”
Sirius shot Remus a questioning look and Remus shrugged, looking just as bewildered.
A strange thought occured to Harriet; she leaned over and whispered in Hermione’s ear.
“Hermione, d’you think it might have something to do with why Voldemort survived the first time I blew him up? The locket I mean. Maybe that’s why Voldemort hid it, because it was somehow keeping him alive. Maybe that’s how Dumbledore knows Voldemort is dead for good this time - because he destroyed the locket.”
Hermione gasped, her eyes widening.
“Harriet, I really think you might be on to something...” she murmured.
“What are pet muggles saying?” Kreacher’s already small eyes narrowed into slits. “Speaking out of turn. Perhaps Master Sirius would let Kreacher punish them.”
The filthy rag doubling as Kreacher’s loin-cloth began to tent in front, making Kreacher’s idea of punishment all too obvious.
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust and Harriet glowered at the wizened old house-elf.
“There won’t be any punishments today,” Sirius growled, “or ever. Harriet and Hermione are not to be touched by you in any way - do you understand.”
“Yes, Master Sirius,” said Kreacher, looking extremely disappointed as his tenting loincloth settled back into place. “Master wishes to keep pet muggles to himself - Kreacher is wrong to expect Master to share with poor Kreacher, his lowly servant.”
Sirius rolled his eyes and shot an apologetic look at Harriet and Hermione.
“Sorry about that. Kreacher always was a bit... enthusiastic in sharing my family’s views regarding muggles and muggleborns. Anyway, don’t be shy on his account - by all means if you have any ideas, Remus and I would like to hear them.”
“Er... I was just thinking,” said Harriet, her face starting to grow hot, wondering if Sirius would think she was being stupid; she barely knew anything about magic after all, “What if the locket was something which kept Voldemort alive somehow after I blew him up? ... Dumbledore found out about it somehow and destroyed it, right? ... And now he believes Voldemort is dead permanently - maybe those two things are connected?”
Remus leapt out of seat and snapped his fingers, startling everyone, his eyes bulging.
“That’s it Harriet! Brilliant! ... A horcrux, the locket must have been a horcrux! That has to be it.”
“Of course!” said Sirius, sitting upright in his seat. “That’s the only thing which makes sense!”
“You mean I’m actually right?” Harriet gawked at Remus, her mouth gaping, “I’m not mental? You really think the locket was keeping Voldemort alive?”
“It fits all the facts Harriet! You’re a genius!” said Remus.
“Er... Hermione’s the genius,” Harriet muttered, blushing furiously. “I don’t really know hardly anything about magic yet... just a few spells we practiced when we were able to sneak away at lunch time a few times a week. ... It was just a crazy guess!”
“That’s not true, Harriet!” said Hermione firmly. “Don’t sell yourself short - you’re a Great Witch already! I may have a better memory for the theory and logic, but you’ve got really good instincts about magic!”
“I’ll say!” Sirius grinned at Harriet. “You’d give James and Lily both a run for their money at your age. I can’t wait to see what you’ll be able to do with a wand once we start training you and Hermione up a bit!”
“Well, then Hermione would be brilliant too!” Harriet squeaked, still as red as a ripe strawberry. “I wasn’t joking about how smart she is - she’s definitely smarter than me!”
Hermione’s face began reddening too.
“Er... so what’s a horcrux?” she asked quickly, feeling very embarrassed.
“A horcrux is basically a container for a piece of soul,” Remus explained. “It binds the wizard who creates it to this mortal plane. So even if they’re ‘killed’ they’re never truly gone, but they’re not ghosts either - they’re more or less disembodied spirits which cannot pass beyond the veil.”
“So that’s why he was possessing Quirrell then,” said Harriet.
“Precisely,” Sirius agreed.
“So how does one go about making one?” asked Hermione, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“To be honest, I’m not quite sure,” Remus admitted. “There weren’t any books about horcruxes at Hogwarts as far as I know. But they are surely created with the Darkest of magics - perhaps human sacrifice or something of the sort...”
“I expect Dumbledore removed any books which discussed horcruxes from the school library,” Sirius added, a wry smile creeping to his lips. “However, there are several books in Number Twelve’s library - did I mention how Dark my family was?
“Anyway, yes, murder is indeed involved. One splits one’s soul by committing murder, and the enchanting of the item to contain the piece of soul requires acts so gruesome I hesitate to mention them. Suffice it to say, the creation of a horcrux involves ritual mutilation and cannibalism - which is why so few wizards - even Dark ones - are inclined to attempt it.
“The enchantments not only bind the piece of soul to the item in question, but also make the horcrux nearly indestructible. Only particularly lethal types of magic are powerful enough to destroy a horcrux: Fiendfyre, and Basilisk Venom among them.”
Hermione frowned pensively and peered at Harriet’s forehead. Harriet nervously rubbed at her scar even though it didn’t itch or burn anymore.
“Er... Hermione?”

“Your scar - it all makes sense now! It wasn’t Voldemort’s Dark magic which infected your scar and made it hurt, it was a piece of his soul. When you blew him up as a baby - a piece of his soul must have entered you through the scar.”
“Wait - you’re saying Harriet has a piece of that monster inside her?” Sirius looked horrified. “So he could still be alive as a disembodied spirit?”
“No!” said Hermione quickly, shaking her head. “It’s gone - when Voldemort’s killing curse struck Harriet last night, whatever kept her alive the first time did again, and his curse killed his piece of soul in her instead. Her scar was bleeding a bit and some black stuff was oozing from it...”
“Ectoplasm,” said Remus, nodding. “Souls, spirits, ghosts - all disembodied entities can leave residual physical traces when they manifest and interact with the physical world. And as tainted with Evil as Voldemort was, his piece of soul would most certainly have left black ectoplasm in its wake.”
“And I can feel that he’s gone,” Harriet insisted.
“Really - my scar doesn’t hurt anymore. And look - it’s all completely healed over again, like it didn’t even split last night.” Harriet pushed aside her long black fringe, so everyone could have a good look.
“Hmm... Okay! But what about your new scar?” said Sirius, sounding slightly dubious.
“Well, erm... er, it does feel a bit sore,” Harriet admitted ruefully, feeling her chest tighten as her surety wavered.
“Which is to be expected,” said Remus, “It’s a fresh wound after all. ... I’m certain Hermione’s assessment is correct. She saw blood and ectoplasm from where Harriet’s scar had split open - that really can only mean that the ectoplasm was left behind when the piece of soul burst out of the scar. Voldemort is well and truly gone.”
Harriet and Sirius both heaved deep sighs of relief. A bullfrog croak drew everyone’s attention - they had forgotten Kreacher was listening to every word. He was staring at Harriet in particular through narrowed eyes.
“Master Sirius - Kreacher is confused. These are not pet muggles?”
Sirius groaned and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair.
~o0o~
Susan Bones ignored her dinner-plate full of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas. She wasn’t very hungry. Instead, Susan was absentmindedly chewing on the end of one of her long red braids as she sadly watched Sophie Roper who was sobbing as she crawled between Zacharias Smith’s legs.
Sofie was the blonde-haired Hufflepuff muggleborn girl in Susan’s year who had been chosen that morning to replace one of the escaped Receptacles. But the initiation of the new Receptacles had been held off for dinner-time as the cage at the end of the Great Hall had needed extensive repairs, as had the headmaster himself.
~o0o~
At the beginning of the evening feast Dumbledore had stiffly shuffled to the podium at the fore of the staff-table to introduce the two new Receptacles to the entire school. The headmaster had peered out across the Great Hall over his half-moon spectacles, managing to look both somber and reassuring all at once, and cleared his throat.
“Good evening students,” he had begun, his rich voice carrying throughout the hall, “Before we begin what is sure to be yet another excellent feast provided for by the illustrious House-Elves of Hogwarts, I should like to take the time to present our two newest Receptacles.
“As you are all well aware, Receptacles 1025 and 1026, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, made their escape last night following yet another devastating outburst of magic from Mr. Potter. And though no one is more pleased than I that Harry has once again killed Voldemort...”
There were a number of gasps and squeals at hearing the name spoken openly, but Dumbledore ignored them all as he continued.
“...it is most regretful that our beloved Potions Master, Professor Snape was also caught up in Harry’s violent reign of destruction, and is no longer with us. We will all surely miss him...”
There were a few snorts of derision and coughs which sounded suspiciously like “Not bloody likely,” from some of the older Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, but Dumbledore ignored those all as well.

“Rest assured,” Dumbledore carried on, “the entire Ministry is putting every effort into locating Harry and Miss Granger and will return our wayward Receptacles to us. ... In the meantime, as was announced this morning, two students have been chosen from among the muggleborn for the great honour of being Hogwarts’ newest Receptacles.
“Sophie Roper and Katie Bell, if you would please step forth and join me so that we may commence with your graduation to what will no doubt be a long and glorious career in a celebrated and well-recompensed vocation, freed from the usual burdens of hard toil to which the rest of us are subjected to.”
Dumbledore waited patiently as the two young muggleborns - Sophie and the second year Gryffindor with copper-brown hair - rose to their feet and shakily trotted up to the podium from their respective tables, terrified expressions on their faces. He directed them to stand to either side of him, several metres apart.
Professor Dumbledore seemed to be intent on making quite a show of it. He clapped his hands and the black robes covering the two young witches vanished, leaving them trembling in their school uniforms. Then Dumbledore raised both arms and iron chains dropped from the ceiling with a loud rattling and clanking which echoed through the hall.
The girls’ arms shot up of their own accord and the steel shackles at the end of the chains clamped around their wrists, lifting both girls slightly until their feet left the floor. For a moment they dangled, legs swinging as they both squealed.
Dumbledore flourished his arms again, the purple and gold sleeves of his robes flapping, and more chains appeared, emerging from the marble floor. The chains shackled themselves to Sophie’s and Katie’s ankles and whipped their legs widely apart, their skirts riding higher on their thighs.
The first and second year girls were both whimpering and crying now, hanging spread-eagled by the chains in front of the entire school.
Behind them at the staff table, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey both sat stiffly with narrowed eyes and pursed lips; Sprout’s expression was perfectly neutral. Professor Sinistra was licking her lips unabashedly ogling the girls and Babbling looked decidely uninterested; Flitwick was sighing, and Hagrid was looking ashamed.
Professor Trelawney appeared mildly intrigued. Professor Kettleburn was grinning and at his side in Snape’s old seat was a very pleased looking corpulent wizard with a walrus moustache; and in the seat previously occupied by Professor Quirrell was a squat witch in violently pink robes with a leering smile plastered across her toad-like face.
Dumbledore turned slightly and waved up the two new professors, his eyes twinkling.
“Horace, Dolores? ... Would you care to do the honours?”
“Oho!” The rotund wizard named Horace took to his feet, his eyes lighting up. “I would be delighted to... most delighted, my dear fellow!”
“Why thank you, Albus,” said the Senior Undersecretary in her most dulcet tones and beaming broadly. “I thought you would never ask!”
“And deprive you of the pleasures to which you are accustomed, after so kindly agreeing to fill in?” said Dumbledore merrily. “That would be a poor way to reward one of the Ministry’s topmost officials.”
Dolores and Horace scurried around the staff table, each one choosing a girl. Professor Umbridge wasn’t very tall, but at four foot ten the top of her head was still at the same height as the top of Sophie Roper’s, and Professor Slughorn towered over Katie.
“Oh my, such a pretty little thing,” simpered Umbridge, reaching a hand under the first year Hufflepuff’s skirt. Sophie’s hazel eyes went wide, and she squeaked, trying vainly to wriggle away from the fingers fondling her pussy lips through her white cotton knickers.
“Oh no, this just won’t do,” said Umbridge breathily. “Naughty little girls who don’t stay still while they’re being gently petted are simply inviting punishment. You don’t want to be punished, do you?”
Sophie shook her head vigorously, too frightened to say a word, and stopped squirming.
“Very good! See how well we’re getting along already?”
Professor Umbridge suddenly dug two fingers into the Hufflepuff’s vulva, pressing the fabric of her knickers into her dampening entrance. Sophie let out a yelp of shock and screwed her eyes shut, staying as still as possible.
Susan Bones winced as she watched her chained up friend being mercilessly groped by the horrid toad-faced witch. Hannah Abbott squeaked when she felt Susan grab her hand and squeeze it tightly.
Professor Umbridge jabbed her fingers in deeper and deeper until her sharp fingernails tore through the soaking cotton fabric, grinning at the shame and pain written across the red-faced girl’s features. The squishy, squelchy sounds of Sophie’s narrow sheath tightly clinging to the fingers pumping into her with increasing intensity were clearly audible to those nearest the staff table.
After a few minutes of finger fucking the helpless young girl, Umbridge seemed to have had enough for the moment. She yanked her drenched digits from the first-year girl’s vagina and wiped them on the girl’s skirt, then reached for her wand.
“Hmm... Such cumbersome trappings,” Umbridge murmured sweetly. “You poor little dear, to be weighed down so heavily with such unnecessary clothing - your little body yearning to be set free. Never mind, never mind - not much longer and all those nasty clothes will be gone.”
Umbridge carefully drew a line with a thin beam of purplish-blue light and a strip of Sophie’s grey blazer peeled away and fell to the floor.
Meanwhile, Professor Slughorn had been running his hands all over the second year Gryffindor girl’s lissome figure, squeezing her pert little bum, rucking her skirt up above her waist and exposing her knickers to the entire school. Several hoots and catcalls came from Gryffindor table along with shouts of, “Come on already,” and “Rip ‘em off her.”
Susan glanced over and scowled at the shouters: Fred Weasley and a boy who’s name she wasn’t quite sure of - McLeod or McLintock maybe?
“Oh, very well then! If you insist,” Slughorn chuckled and winked at the Gryffindor table.
He reached both hands under the elastic of Katie Bell’s knickers and gave them a savage yank. The copper-haired Gryffindor let out a shriek as her knickers ripped and tore away from her body, briefly exposing her bare slit to everyone in the Great Hall before her dark grey skirt fell over it.
Professor Slughorn regarded the teary girl briefly, his walrus moustache twitching. Then he reached his hands under the waistband of her skirt. Katie squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for what she knew was coming next.
There was another shriek, more ripping and tearing sounds, the clink of chains as her body jerked, and Katie’s tattered skirt joined her destroyed knickers on the marble floor. All that was shielding her lower openings from view now was the bottom of her white shirt.
Slughorn reckoned everyone had waited long enough. He kept going, his strong hands making short work of the second year Gryffindor’s grey blazer, tugging her scarlet and gold tie from her neck and shredding her blouse. Katie hung in her chains miserably when he was finished, her face on fire, not a stitch of clothing on her naked body except for her shoes and socks.
Professor Slughorn took another moment to molest Katie’s utterly exposed figure, sliding his hands across the bare skin of her stomach, cupping her budding young breasts, flicking her rock hard pink nipples with his fingers. He slipped a hand between her thighs, rubbing at her slit and making her squeal when he shoved his fingers inside her to the great delight of the boys at the Gryffindor table.
He roughly thrust his fingers into her depths for a few minutes while she moaned. A particularly sharp jab wrenched yet another shriek and she released a trickle of pee all over Slughorn’s hand.
“Well, I suppose that will do for now,” he said, chuckling again as he pulled his dripping fingers out of her and wiped his hand on her hair.
Slughorn glanced at Katie’s feet and hesitated briefly before deciding to use his wand instead of bending over. With two swishes her shoes and socks flew from her feet and landed on the pile of the rags which had once been her clothes.
“Tut, tut, I appear to have left a mess,” he muttered. “Well, you shan’t be needing clothes anymore, will you?”
Katie let out a sob as a bolt of red light shot from the end of Slughorn’s wand and the remnants of her clothes burst into flame.
Slughorn glanced over at Professor Umbridge who had been using her wand to carefully slice Sophie’s clothes into ribbons a piece at a time. The last strip of the Hufflepuff’s skirt fell away leaving only her shoes and socks and her soaked slightly torn knickers halfway down her hips.
Another little snip with the purplish-blue beam of light and Sophie’s knickers peeled away from her right hip; one last snip on the left side and her drenched knickers flopped to the floor - a little red stain visible around the ragged hole in the white crotch-panel. Being closer to the ground than Slughorn and not of his whale-like proportions, Umbridge had no need to use her wand to remove the little Hufflepuff’s shoes and socks.
She tossed them on the pile of shredded clothes on the marble floor and like Professor Slughorn, Umbridge set them ablaze.
“There now, all gone! Doesn’t that feel better?” she asked Sophie.
Her face crimson with humiliation, cheeks glistening with tears, Sophie peered at Umbridge incredulously.
“I asked you a question, dear,” said Umbridge, her voice turning brittle, “and I expect an answer. Look at the rest of us, encumbered by the expectations of society - forced to cover ourselves with heavy garments so that we may go about our daily business labouring for the benefit of a select few such as yourself.
“Never shall you want for food nor housing - all your needs to be met by the hard work of others - freed from the daily grind of sustaining yourself, you no longer have need to weigh yourself down with clothing. Are you not grateful?”
Sophie opened her mouth, but all that came out was a little squeak of fright.

“I did warn you what would happen to naughty little girls,” Umbridge sighed. “Now you shall have to be punished.”
“Please, no!” burst out of Sophie’s mouth.
“Oh, you do have a tongue,” said Umbridge. “I am afraid it is far too late. I did give you a chance.”
Professor Umbridge glanced at the headmaster. “Professor Dumbledore?”
Dumbledore stroked his long silvery beard, raised his bushy white eyebrows and nodded.
“By all means, Professor Umbridge,” he responded, taking out his wand. “Even Receptacles must learn discipline - as long as punishments are kept within the realm of reason and meet the measure of the crime. I just need to make some final adjustments and attire the Receptacles properly first.”
“Oh, but of course, Professor Dumbledore.”
The naked first year Hufflepuff shivered fearfully as Dumbledore raised his wand. Twice he flourished it; the first wave had no visible effect, but Sophie clearly felt something judging from her little gasp. The second wave was more startling; before everyone’s eyes, Sophie’s barely-there breasts grew several sizes until they were nice round handfuls, not too big, but pleasing to look at on her small frame.
“And now, Miss Roper...” Dumbledore retrieved a collar from a pocket in his robes and strapped it around her neck, the silver dog-tag glinting in the light of the hundreds of candles above.
“...Now it is official,” he said cheerily, his eyes twinkling. “Congratulations, Receptacle 1027. Welcome to your new life.”
Dumbledore turned to look at the other naked young girl in chains on his other side. Twice more he waved his wand; Katie’s breasts needed less enhancing to be proportionate to the rest of her figure, coming along nicely as they already were.
He stepped behind Katie Bell and strapped her collar into place as he beamed brightly.
“Receptacle 1028, it is my great pleasure to bestow this gift upon you. Henceforth you shall enjoy all the benefits of your new, exalted status.”
Katie bit her lip as fresh tears trickled down her cheeks, not certain if she was supposed to say anything. Dumbledore seemed unconcerned by her silence and merely gestured with his hands. The chains released Katie and vanished as she crumpled to the floor, her wrists and ankles red and sore from the shackles.
“Ah, yes.” Dumbledore nodded in approval. “Very good, Miss Bell! On your hands and knees - most appropriate at mealtimes indeed. ... Now, your former Housemates will be more than happy to feed you. You know how it is done, do you not?”
Katie Bell nodded dejectedly and began to crawl towards the Gryffindor table to whoops and applause, and nobody cheered louder than Fred Weasley and Cormac McLaggen.
“Now, Professor Umbridge, I believe you had a punishment in mind for Miss Roper?” said the headmaster.
“Quite so, Professor Dumbledore...” A cruel smirk crept to Umbridge’s lips. “I am well aware that performances are generally left for Saturday evenings, and that usually the Receptacles are only introduced to play-toys and small tasks at first in order to give them time to accustom their vessels to heavy and intense usage.
“But it seems to me that Receptacle 1027‘s attitude problem would benefit greatly from an advanced performance. You did just cast upon the Receptacle the standard Damage Reduction Charm, did you not?”
“If you are referring to my modified Impervius Charm, indeed I did,” Dumbledore chuckled, looking as if he had expected nothing less from Dolores Umbridge. “Very well. Then perhaps one of Hagrid’s pets?”
“Actually,” Umbridge began, raising her eyebrows and peering across the staff table at the hairy eleven-and-a-half-foot tall Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys, “I was thinking about Hagrid himself. He seems quite a strapping lad...”
“Er... Wha’? Me?” Hagrid’s dark eyes widened with bewilderment. “Yeh wan’ me ter do wha’ now?”
“I believe that what our newest Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts and esteemed Senior Undersecretary is suggesting is that you take advantage of the opportunity which Miss Roper’s punishment presents - an opportunity to release your pent-up passions,” said Dumbledore warmly.
“You are far more deserving than you give yourself credit for, Hagrid. You have given so much and yet taken so little for yourself, and I feel as if I have taken you for granted for far too long. Please, consider delivering Miss Roper’s punishment as a reward for being such a loyal and trustworthy friend.”
“Oh, er...” Hagrid’s eyes darted around the Great Hall as what little of his cheeks could be seen above his bristly black beard reddened. “Yeh mean righ’ here? ... righ’ now in fron’ o’ everyone?”
“Why not?” said Umbridge, smiling brightly. “From my understanding, you have provided sustenance to previous Receptacles. ... This would be little different - you would merely be meeting nutritional needs of a different nature - nourishing the need of its womb to be filled with male seed. The Receptacle may not understand its own needs as of yet, but this punishment is, in the end, a gift, and ultimately to its own benefit.”
“Oh,er... s’pose yeh got a point,” Hagrid muttered shiftily. “Still - yeh sure I’m the one fer the job?”
“Oh my, you are a humble one indeed,” Umbridge sighed, peering at Hagrid with a look of sympathetic endearment. “It would seem that Professor Dumbledore is quite correct about your self-effacing nature. If you’re really not sure that you are deserving of such a sublime reward, perhaps one of your pets after all would enjoy the task - say the three headed one - Fluffy?”
“WHA’ ?” Hagrid briefly looked horrified. “Er... I mean, no, tha’s alright! I’m up ter it... I jus’... er, like yeh said... jus’ wasn’ sure I really deserved it.”
“Oh splendid, Mr. Hagrid!” Umbridge beamed. “And please be sure to take as much time as you need.”
Hagrid clambered to his feet and lumbered around the staff table towards the young Hufflepuff in chains. Despite his apparent reticence, the growing bulge in Hagrid’s trousers indicated that he wasn’t immune to the charms of her naked figure.
With a wave of Dumbledore’s hands, the chains rattled and clanked as they adjusted to lift Sophie several feet higher until the top of her widely parted thighs reached the height of Hagrid’s hips. Dumbledore and Umbridge returned to their seats as Hagrid came up behind the tiny young girl.
Sophie quaked in her chains, fearfully returning the gaze of the hundreds of students eagerly awaiting the show as they looked upon her nakedness. Hagrid reached his massive hands around her front, one mauling her boobs and pinching her perky pink nipples, and the other sliding down her belly to grope her bare mound and slit. He lowered his wild, hairy head close to her own, whispering in her ear as his beard covered her shoulder.
“Sorry ‘bout this,” he said so that only she could hear. “I know it ain’ gonna be pleasant fer yeh, but Fluffy’s nearly twice as big as me - yeh remember what ‘e did ter Granger, don’tcha?”
Whimpering, fresh tears rolling down Sophie’s cheeks, she nodded as the hairy giant continued to molest her. Feeling satisfied that the first year Hufflepuff was as resigned to the situation as she was ever going to be, Hagrid straightened up and squeezed her pert little bottom cheeks a few times, then unzipped his trousers.
His nearly sixteen-inch cock sprang out, smacking her bum, and she flinched, breasts bobbing freely, the steel shackles digging into her wrists and ankles. Hagrid grasped Sophie’s little hips in his dustbin-lid sized hands, rubbing the massive red knob of his gigantic penis along her tiny slit for several minutes, feeling her twitching vulva growing hotter and wetter.
Everyone watched with bated breath. Susan Bones gnawed on the end of her braid anxiously; she nearly crushed Hannah’s hand with her own vice-like grip when Sophie’s screams echoed through the hall as the crown of Hagrid’s monstrosity pierced her entrance, stretching the lips beyond what seemed possible around his thick, veiny shaft.
Katie Bell, on all fours under the Gryffindor table, as yet untouched, heard Sophie’s shrieks and she began to cry again. Then she heard squelchy, shoving sounds, and more screams. But Katie wasn’t given any more time to contemplate the horror of Sophie Roper’s rape. Someone grabbed Katie’s hair and dragged her painfully towards them.
Katie squealed shrilly and looked up between the legs to see McLaggen’s grinning face leering down at her, and his enormous dick bobbing in front of her face.
“Bet you’ve been waiting for this, eh, Bell?” he taunted her, yanking her hair again. “Probably got you all wet watching Granger and Potter gobble my knob, didn’t it? Now it’s all yours - open up, slut!”
Forced by the magical collar to obey, Katie opened her lips and for the first time ever, a penis entered her mouth. It tasted as vile to her as she had imagined it would while watching Harriet and Hermione suck the boys off, and she almost threw up right then and there.
She gagged and gargled, her stomach churning even more when McLaggen gripped her head tightly and shoved the hot head of his cock past her uvula, but something dampened the urge to vomit and the next thing Katie knew the penis plunged into her esophagus. When her lips pressed against the zipper of his trousers and the fabric of his boxers, Katie knew he had all nine inches buried in her humid throat as it wetly clung to his shaft.
For a moment Katie panicked, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, saliva filling her mouth, but then Mclaggen began jerking his hips and rocking her head back and forth. As he forcefully assaulted Katie’s tight, slick throat with his penis, breathing became less of a concern; somehow the air kept flowing.
McLaggen savagely face-fucked Katie for several minutes while he watched Sophie Roper’s belly bulging with Hagrid’s fifteen-inch cock all the way inside her, delighting in the friction of Katie’s throat. The rush of euphoria began to crest, and he jammed Katie’s face hard against his crotch, holding her head down.
Katie began panicking again when McLaggen halted the violent thrusting and held her head in place, knowing exactly what was about to happen. Sure enough, she felt the shaft of McLaggen’s penis twitch and pulse, jets of his boiling spunk squirting into her throat. After several bursts, McLaggen jerked Katie’s head back and filled her mouth with his semen.
Tears dripped from Katie’s cheeks as she tasted the slightly bitter, salty, sticky bodily fluid for the first time, and began swallowing it down, knowing that she had no choice, knowing that from now on, for the rest of her life as far as she knew, it would be her only food source - and she wasn’t even thirteen yet, not for three more months.
And for the final indignity, McLaggen pulled his dick from Katie’s mouth and shot several more loads of sperm all over her face before wiping his penis on her hair.
Another pair of hands grabbed at Katie before she could even recover, and she looked up between sticky eyelids, just able to make out Fred Weasley’s grinning face through the blur.
“Thirsty Katie?” he asked gleefully as he presented his half-flaccid cock to her mouth. “Don’t spill a drop now!”
Katie screwed her eyes shut miserably as she dutifully sucked on the end of Fred’s knob, swallowing as fast as she could to keep up with steady flow of hot urine...
~o0o~
The naked first year girl sobbed even louder when Zacharias Smith grinned at her and unzipped his pants, a respectable five-inch boner springing through the opening.
Susan Bones caught a glimpse of Sophie’s burning red pussy lips, long ribbons of Hagrid’s sperm still oozing from her vagina. She pushed her plate away, briefly contemplating flinging it at Smith’s horrible face.
Hannah Abbott couldn’t eat either. Together, she and Susan listened and watched as Sophie alternately slurped and gagged on Zacharias’s penis. Sperm drooled from Sophie’s open mouth when he pulled out and Susan cringed when he pumped another five dollops of his sticky seed all over Sophie’s face.
“She’s all yours now, Ernie,” said Zacharias with a smug, satisfied expression as he roughly shoved Sophie at Ernie MacMillan.
“Why thank you my good man,” said Ernie pompously as he grabbed Sophie by her blonde-hair and pulled her closer, “Don’t mind if I do.”
Susan and Hannah whispered in each other’s ears, growing more and more dejected and infuriated as Sophie was passed from one boy to the next throughout dinner. By the time the feast was over, Sophie’s face and hair were covered with semen.
When Hagrid resignedly collected Sophie and led her to the cage at the other end of the Great Hall with the equally sperm coated Katie Bell, Susan and Hannah quickly scrambled to their feet and trotted over to the Gryffindor table. They caught up to the girls they wanted to talk to most just in time.
Susan tugged on Parvati Patil’s sleeve. Parvati and Lavender turned around, both looking quite upset themselves, but surprised to see Susan and Hannah.
“Er... Susan?” said Parvati. “What’s up?”
“We know that you and Lavender are Harriet and Hermione’s friends,” said Susan, much more boldly than she felt.
Parvati opened her mouth, but Susan cut her off, her words tumbling from her own mouth in a rush.
“Don’t pretend you’re not! Please! ... We just want to talk - Sophie’s our friend and we want to help her, and I’m sure you helped Hermione and Harriet escape and we want to find out what you know and if you can help us help Sophie, and... and I’d really like to talk to Hermione if you know where she is, to make sure she and Harriet are safe. ... Please!”
Parvati shot an anguished look at Lavender who sighed and nodded.
“Okay, look,” said Parvati earnestly, “we can’t talk here. Let’s go find somewhere outside to talk, away from the castle. We’ve still got an hour before curfew.”
“Okay!” said Susan and Hannah in unison, both nodding.
It was a testament to how anxious and upset Susan and Hannah were that neither of them objected to the idea, despite the fact that it was long after dark and sleet was falling heavily. The four of them cautiously made their way across the entrance hall as other students milled about, most of them saying goodnight to friends from other Houses before heading back to their own common rooms.
Nobody else seemed keen on spending the last hour before curfew outside; the pair of Gryffindors and the pair of Hufflepuffs slipped out of the front doors of the castle together without any fuss. They were immediately pelted by icy rain and wet snow as the wind whipped at their robes. Parvati led them all across the soggy lawn towards the black silhouettes of swaying trees...
~o0o~
Hermione sighed happily as she snuggled against Harriet, her hand resting between Harriet’s thighs, pleased to hear her laughing uproariously at the Monty Python skit they were watching together on the television which Remus had brought back from his own house earlier that afternoon. It was nice hearing Harriet laugh after all the horror they had both endured.
“‘...‘E’s not pining! ‘E’s passed on!’” Harriet wheezed, tears of laughter streaming from her eyes after the dead parrot sketch was over. “That’s bloody hilarious! I never knew they had anything this funny on the telly. The only comedy shows the Dursleys ever watched were stupid and boring.”
Hermione beamed at Harriet and gave her a kiss on the cheek as the fingers absentmindedly stroking Harriet’s hard little pearl slipped between the folds of Harriet’s heated labia. Likewise, the hand on the end of the arm Harriet had curled around Hermione’s back was gently squeezing Hermione’s boob.
“It’s one of my favourites,” said Hermione excitedly, fingering Harriet a bit more vigorously. “I’m really glad you like it too, Harriet. ... What about other television shows? Have you ever seen Doctor Who?”
“That’s the science fiction one isn’t it - with the guy in the telephone box?”
“That’s the one! So you haven’t seen it then?”
“Nah! The Dursleys would never watch anything like that - too much like magic probably! ...” Harriet briefly trailed off, letting out a little, “Aaah!” as Hermione’s fingers wriggled inside her.
Harriet massaged Hermione’s breast a bit more firmly and slipped her other hand between Hermione’s thighs to reciprocate. Hermione spread her legs a bit and let out an appreciative, “Mmm ... that feels nice...”
“So anyway,” Hermione went on as they both diddled each other, her eyes gleaming, “I saw some Doctor Who’s in the box of videotapes which Remus brought over too. Do you want to watch some of them after this?”
“Yeah! That sounds brilliant! ... But what about Star Wars? Can we watch that after too? ... I’ve never seen that either!”
“Oh my God! Of course!” said Hermione eagerly, pumping her fingers into Harriet even faster. “You have to see that - you’ll love it! ... I still can’t believe how much you’ve missed out on while you lived with those awful people!”
“Yea-ah...” Harriet gasped, “It... Unh!... it was worth it... Ah! ... all that rubbish at Hogwarts ... Oh! ... to get away from the bloody Dursleys .... Aaaaaah!”
~o0o~
Sirius rubbed his wrinkled brow, feeling a flush of heat in his cheeks when he heard Harriet squealing with delight, and hesitated as he quickly tore his eyes away from the happy naked pair of young witches on the sofa in the upstairs parlour.
“Everything alright?” asked Remus as he stepped from the stairs onto the landing with a tray full of mugs of steaming cocoa.
“Er... Yeah, I guess!”
Remus peeked through the doorway.
“Oh!” he said quietly.
“I just don’t have the heart to say anything,” Sirius murmured. “I mean - they don’t even seem to know it’s inappropriate. But I’d have to be a bloody heel to tell them to get a room after all they’ve been through! ... They look so happy - that’s what counts the most, doesn’t it?”
Sirius peered at Remus pleadingly, hoping for... he wasn’t sure what. For validation? ... Or for someone else to be the disciplinarian?
Remus looked thoughtful for a moment, then he shrugged.
“Well - we’re sort of in uncharted territory on this one,” he sighed. “There really aren’t any rulebooks for this sort of situation. It’s not that they don’t know - not really. ... They’ve just got too used to public expressions of sexuality, and unless we can reverse the Curse, we’re not really going to be able to do a whole lot about it.
“I say we just let them have at it while at home, but try and impress on them to be much more aware in public - assuming we can at least come up with a work-around - like some sort of illusion spell which makes people think they’re wearing clothes perhaps...”
Remus paused and raised his eyebrows, his moustache twitching mirthfully, then he said, “In the meantime Sirius - buckle up. I think we’re just going to have to get used to this!”
Sirius shook his shaggy head and chuckled lightly, feeling somewhat relieved. There was another giddy little squeal from the parlour. Sirius and Remus couldn’t help glancing in the direction of the sound; this time it was Hermione throwing her bushy little head back, her face flushed with elation.
Sirius and Remus waited a moment for Hermione to stop panting, then Sirius rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.
“Hot cocoa, anyone?” he called out with a grin.
Harriet and Hermione both turned around, their cheeks turning pink.
“Oh... er, yeah!” said Harriet anxiously. “Did you, erm...?”
Sirius raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“We’re sorry!” Hermione squeaked. looking thoroughly embarrassed. “We forgot...”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Sirius warmly. “Remus and I get it! You two just do what you like - we’ll get used to it! Don’t mind us...” Then Sirius smirked a bit as a funny thought occurred to him. “...All I ask is that you extend Remus and I the same courtesy if you ever catch us snogging or shagging on the stairs!”
Harriet’s jaw dropped. “Wait... You mean, you and Remus...?”
“Yep! Me and Remus!” Sirius chuckled. “Mind you - I wouldn’t say no if a pretty woman wanted to join in the action too, but...”
“Ow!” Sirius yelped when Remus swatted him on the shoulder. “Joking - I’m just joking!”
“Hmm...” Remus lifted his eyebrows and smirked, then carried the tea-tray with the steaming mugs of cocoa into the parlour followed by a sheepish looking Sirius.

AN:
@ Petunia-D: Yeah, Ron has it coming. I kind of wanted to go a bit harsher, Lol! ... :D ...But I'm trying not to break canon too much! I'll have to see when I get to Fred and George and Percy though - especially Fred! Ron at least had the excuse of being kind of a dimwit - those three don't.
As to Lupin and Tonks - well, I'm seriously thinking of bringing in Tonks at some point, but if I do, I'm leaning more to her having a bit of fun with Harriet and Hermione.
@ Ladyedgcombe: Sadly, the whole lily flower turning into a fish thing was just in the movies. Anyway, it's more of a general rule than anything. I would think that there are some types of spells or magic that are the exception to the rule as well.
@ Jessicanightmarewolf101: Thank you! ... :-) ... I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm trying to balance the fithy smut with actual plot (and I've got a rough plan for where it's going - obviously more shit is gonna go down at some point - I've still got a few villains to deal with).
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts