Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 288817 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter belong to Rowling and the relevant corporations--though I doubt they want anything to do with this one. I make no money from the publication of this work.

Chapter List
- 22
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- 24
The Nobleman

“How do I look?”
“Like a new man!” said Remus as he adjusted Sirius’s Windsor knot.
“You look smashing!” said Harriet, grinning; Hermione nodded in agreement.
Sirius flushed slightly, shooting the nude young witches an apologetic look, suddenly feeling guilty for inviting commentary on his fashion choices. Kreacher began setting plates full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of everyone, and glasses of orange juice magically appeared on the table.
“Master looks most Noble,” said Kreacher ingratiatingly.
Sirius shook his head, smiling wryly at Kreacher’s choice of words.
“Thank you Kreacher. Now, I’ll be gone most of the day - don’t forget what we talked about yesterday. You will be nice to Harriet and Hermione, won’t you?”
“Yes Master Sirius,” Kreacher replied, and he sounded like he meant it. “Miss Harriet is responsible for death of the Dark Lord - completing Master Regulus’s mission to destroy him - and Miss Hermione is her beloved. Kreacher will obey their wishes as if they were Master’s own. ... And Kreacher promises to keep Master Sirius’s secret from Mistress Black until Master Sirius reveals it for himself.”
“Very good!” Sirius nodded and took a sip of orange juice, counting his blessings.
It had been touch and go yesterday morning working out the best way to reveal that he had never actually switched sides, and win Kreacher’s approval at the same time. In the end, it had been Hermione and Remus who had come up with the best way to win him over while they had all conferred briefly in private before telling Kreacher everything.
Nobody had been more surprised than Sirius that it had actually worked. Apparently Kreacher’s affection for Regulus - and the fact that “Miss Cissy” and “Warlock Malfoy” had also supported the cause to defeat Voldemort - had trumped the years of Pureblood indoctrination and being alone with nothing but the madness of his mother’s portrait to keep him company for the last ten years.
When breakfast was finished Sirius washed it all down with a cup of tea and everyone followed him to the foyer to see him off to the Ministry.
“Now remember, it’s quite possible that Dumbledore will be at the Ministry to oversee your exoneration and your installment as Head of House Black in the Wizengamot, so keep your emotions in check and don’t forget that Dumbledore is a Legilimens,” Remus admonished him.
“Yes Remus!” said Sirius, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got it - don’t tip Dumbledore off to the fact that I want to murder him!”
~o0o~
“Ten inches,” said Seamus as Dean and Neville admired his new wand on the way to Transfiguration, the first lesson of the day on Monday mornings, “Dogwood and Dragon Heartstring. Seems alright! Worked great for me in Ollivander’s. ... I’m hopin’ this one ain’t gonna blow everything up.”
“Good luck with that,” chortled Dean. “You should probably work on actually paying attention to what you’re doing.”
“At least yours works for you,” Neville moaned. “I can barely make mine work at all. I’m practically a Squib!”
“Ah, ye’ll get it eventually mate,” said Seamus, grinning. “You just need a bit more confidence. If we get lucky, mebbe that new Potions Professor - Sluggy - maybe he’ll be like Snape and bring in Katie or that Hufflepuff girl to class. ... A few more good shags oughta fix you up. Ye’ll feel like a man in no time.”
“Yeah... Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Neville brightened right up at the thought. He barely even got a chance to have the Receptacles suck him off at mealtimes as most of the other Gryffindor guys usually got in on it first and Neville didn’t like the idea of annoying them by asking for a turn. Potions with Snape had been the only time he could usually count on getting a chance to stick his willy in one of the Receptacles’ holes. Neville began to feel excited and hopeful, looking forward to Double Potions on Friday.
“So anyway, what’s up with Ron?” asked Seamus. “Thought ‘e’d be back this mornin’ too. Either o’ you know what happened to him?”
Neville shook his head.
“Not a clue, mate!” said Dean, shrugging. “Maybe his folks wanted to spend a bit more time with him.”
~o0o~
Ron gulped as he stripped down under the watchful glare of his mother after a skimpy breakfast of bread and milk and a slice of cheese. Dad had already left for work; Ginny was alternating between peeking through the kitchen entrance with a curious expression on her face, then wrinkling her nose in disgust and hiding again.
Shivering slightly from the chill blowing in through the slightly cracked open window, Ron hesitated when he reached his boxers.
“Do I have to?” he moaned, his ears reddening.
“If you think I’m enjoying this little strip-tease then you are sorely mistaken,” Mum snapped. “But it’s nothing I didn’t see when you were little. Now get on with it - off with your underpants and chuck them in the basket with the rest of your clothes.”
Ron groaned and tugged off his boxers. Now fully exposed, his cheeks felt like they were on fire. To make matters worse, his dangly bits were stiffening in the slight breeze and he scrunched his eyes shut. He heard Ginny let out a little scream of horror and her footsteps running up the stairs. But even worse was the screech from his mother.
“WHAT IS THAT?” she shrieked. “Ronald Bilius Weasley, why does your penis look like it belongs to a bloody elephant?”
“Er... Percy,” Ron squeaked, his voice several pitches higher than usual and his eyes still shut, “He put an Engorgement Charm on it for me.”
“Oh he did, did he? Well, we’ll soon fix that!” said Mum furiously. “Finite Incantatem!”
Ron felt his penis shrinking back to its normal four inches at full extension; unfortunately, he still had no control over his erection no matter what ugly images he pictured in his head. Even Millicent Bulstrode and Crabbe and Goyle didn’t help.
“Right then,” Mum snarled, “now that you’re back to normal let’s get you fixed up.”
Ron felt Mum’s fingers tugging a leather strap around his neck which sealed itself seamlessly, and a cold metal ring and tag against his skin.
“This is the real thing, I’ll have you know. Your father brought it home from work. So let me lay down the rules for you - you will follow all the instructions we gave you yesterday to the letter, but you don’t have to do anything your sister tells you to do, just in case she gets any ideas about making you do her chores or do anything nasty to yourself for doing such revolting and horrific things to Harriet and to her friend - Hermione Granger.”
“Th-thanks Mum,” Ron whimpered, grateful for at least that small mercy; he had been more than a little worried about that. “Er... I-I was just wondering though... erm, what about using the toilet or having a shower.”
“Well, what did Potter and Granger have to do?”
“Th-they had to l-l-lick each other clean,” he stammered, “and.... and they had to p-p-pee in a b-bucket and, er, p-p-poop in a l-litter box in front of everyone.”
“Hmm... well I’m not having you stink up the house, so you can bloody well go in a bucket outside in the garden and then empty it in the old outhouse on the other side of the chicken coop. As to showers - you’ll just have to make do with the rain. It’s rainy enough this time of year.”
“B-b-but I’ll freeze to death,” he moaned.
“Nonsense - this is Devon, not Scotland! We’ll be lucky if we even get a little snow around Christmas time, and that’s two months away. ... And judging by those awful pictures those poor girls were forced to spend all day outside in that early snow on Saturday - in the Scottish Highlands mind you! You’ll have it easy compared to them - in any case, as far as I know, these collars prevent any of the worst effects of freezing. You’ll just have to put up with being cold... just like they did.”
“O-okay,” Ron muttered in resignation.
“Right then,” said Mum, “You might as well start out by cleaning the chicken coop and collecting the eggs, and you might as well spend your hour in the garden with Gnomes after that. Then you can do the rest of your chores and two hours of homework - after that you can do what you like as long as it’s downstairs and not hiding in your room - you’re only allowed to go up to your room to get your comics or a game or whatever - but no more than five minutes in your room. ... Now go on - outside with you.”
With no other choice but to obey, Ron glumly opened the door and stepped outside. Sure enough, it was raining, and the wind was up. He was bloody freezing, and he felt horribly exposed and embarrassed to be naked outside; the only good thing was that his erection had deflated and shriveled up.
The wet weeds, grasses, pebbles and mud felt uncomfortable under his bare feet as he traipsed across the yard. Cleaning out the chicken coop only took about half an hour - at least the chickens didn’t seem to notice that he was naked. Then Ron collected the eggs and trotted back to the kitchen door.
“Just set the basket down right there on the floor,” his mum said sternly, “and wash those muddy feet off in the rain before you come back in after your hour with the Gnomes.”
“Yes Mum,” said Ron, feeling more gloomy by the minute as he shivered in the cold and wet.
The garden with the flower beds, hedges, and vegetable patches was where the Gnomes lived, and it was all the way over on the other side of the yard near the orchard. His teeth were chattering and he was drenched, rivulets of water streaming from the bedraggled ends of his saturated hair and the tip of his shriveled penis.
Several Gnomes poked their little bald, leathery heads out of their holes to take a peek. Ron’s cheeks grew hot and he glowered at the Gnomes when they began laughing at him.
“Oi,” some of them called out down their holes, “Come an’ have look, lads. Yeh won’ wanna miss this.”
Ron groaned when dozens more Gnomes began popping up out of their holes and hooted with laughter at his nakedness.
“Oooh, look at ‘is wee willy winkie...”
“I’ve seen bigger on a squirrel,” chortled another.
“Shut up!” Ron yelled at them. “Leave me alone! It’s cold - that’s why it’s all shrunken.”
But to Ron’s horror, as he felt the eyes of nearly fifty Gnomes crawling across his wet skin, his willy began to stiffen. In no time it was fully erect, poking out stiffly. He tried to cover it with his hands and was shocked when his arms flew up of their own accord and his hands clasped behind his wet head just like Harriet’s and Hermione’s had when they had tried to cover up that first day.
There was nothing he could do but endure their gaze upon his hard penis and now he knew exactly how Harriet and Hermione had felt - though he reckoned it could be worse; he could actually be at school with everyone looking at him.
“Oho, lads,” one of the Gnomes chuckled with a horrible gleam in its eyes. “Lookie what’s come out ter play! Bit bigger’n a squirrel after all.”
“Looks like ‘e’s ready for a bit o’ fun if yeh ask me,” leered another. “Come on lads, let’s give ‘im what what he’s askin’ for.”
“Wait... What?” Ron’s eyes boggled as the Gnomes began to swarm around him. “What are you doing? ... Oi - get away from me.”
“Or wot?” sniggered one of the Gnomes. “You don’ look like yer up for any degnoming today.”
“That’s true enough,” another called out. “Time fer a little payback if yeh ask me!”
“Now, now,” yet another said in an admonishing tone, “There’s no need for any unnecessary roughness - he just wants a little playtime is all.”
“No! I don’t want to play! ... Stop!” shouted Ron as he tried to back away.
But a load of them had started to hop up at him. Ron stumbled backwards and slipped, falling on his bum in the mud. Dozens of Gnomes were on him in an instant. He felt sharp little teeth digging into one of his nipples and little feet and hands all over his flinching abdomen. Then to his shock he felt several tiny little hands grasping and rubbing his penis.
“Ow! ... Gerrof! Gerrof me!” Ron yelled as the Gnome horde laid him out flat on his back.
Opening his mouth had been a bad idea. three or four Gnomes tugged at his lips and they were stronger than they looked. Ron couldn’t close his mouth and another Gnome hopped onto his chin, supported by the dozen or so behind him. Ron moaned when the Gnome grinned at him and pulled down its little britches revealing a surprisingly large penis for its size - about one inch long on a nine or ten inch tall lumpy body.
Ron whimpered when the Gnome lay down across his stretched open lips and stuck his little cock in Ron’s mouth, rubbing it on Ron’s tongue. At the same time, Ron could feel the Gnomes gripping his penis rub it up and down even more vigorously.
The one lying across Ron’s face began jerking its loins, humping Ron’s tongue. Several more were climbing up Ron’s head, clutching his wet hair. Ron quickly shut his eyes when the two standing on his forehead pulled down their britches and began wanking their cocks.
The Gnome fucking Ron’s mouth grunted and suddenly Ron tasted something horrible and sticky as it spurted across his tongue. There were a number of bursts and several shots of Gnome spunk hit the back of Ron’s throat making him choke. Ron had a rotten feeling that it wasn’t going to end there and sure enough, another Gnome was already taking the first one’s place, rubbing its cock on Ron’s tongue.
That was when Ron felt sticky fluid splattering against his forehead and hitting his eyelids. And a number of Gnomes were pulling Ron’s legs apart. Horribly, Ron felt a hard little Gnome cock pressing against the puckered opening of his anus. The cock was only an inch long, but it was also nearly half an inch wide.
Given the surprising strength of the Gnomes, it didn’t take much effort to penetrate Ron’s sphincter. The Gnome couldn’t go very deep, but it made up for its size with savage, rapid thrusts, all the while massaging Ron’s hairless balls.
Ron moaned, humiliated by the uncontrollable reaction of his body, feeling little tingles and rushes of pleasure from the multiple violations. The next thing he knew, his own cock was jerking and twitching in the hands of the Gnomes, erupting, spurts of his own semen spattering against his belly.
It went on and on, and Ron was forced to start swallowing the Gnome sperm collecting at the back of his throat as he had no opportunity to spit it out, and his rectum began to fill after at least fifteen had cum inside his rear-passage, but the Gnomes seemed to have a good sense of timing and Ron suddenly realised they were gone.
For a few minutes Ron just lay in the mud panting as the rain continued to plummet, feeling utterly disgusting, Gnome sperm all over his face and torso and inside him. Had Harriet and Hermione felt this horrible?
As dreadful as he felt, a little voice in the back of his head told Ron that it had been a thousand times worse for them.
Finally, Ron had enough strength to clamber to his feet and he was glad it was raining. He washed every last bit of Gnome semen from his body and gargled rainwater and let the rain wash away the mud from his backside.
Cheeks burning with shame - not only for himself, but for what he had done to Harriet and Hermione - Ron trudged slowly back to the Burrow. When he stepped into the kitchen, dripping wet, Mum gave him a funny look.
“You alright, Ron?”
“I s’pose,” he mumbled forlornly. “Like you said - they had a good laugh. It was horrible - but I reckon Harriet and Hermione had it loads worse.”
Mum’s expression was almost pitying. She tossed him a big fluffy towel.
“Go on then, dry off,” she said gently. “I think that’s a good enough for now. Forget about the rest of your chores and homework for today - you can start on that lot tomorrow. Go get some comics and take the rest of the day off.
Ron nodded as he toweled himself dry. “Thanks Mum.”
After sitting in front of the fire in the living room reading some of his comics he felt a bit better.
As the day wore on, the worst that Ron had to face was going back out in the rain a couple of times to pee and poop in a bucket. When he lay in the dark on the cold kitchen floor that night, naked and shivering slightly, Ron sighed resignedly and hoped that wherever Harriet and Hermione were that they were safe and feeling better.
~o0o~
Sirius felt a bit strange as he rode the lift from the telephone box down to the Atrium. He rubbed at his freshly shaved face and trimmed goatee; his head felt a lot lighter thanks to the haircut which Remus had given him; he felt like a real human being. It all seemed so surreal after a decade as a prisoner in Azkaban and a week or two as a fugitive
When he stepped out of the lift into the currently short line in the visitors queue he was nearly blinded by the glare of numerous flashbulbs going off in his face. Sirius supposed he really shouldn’t be surprised that the Press had been eagerly awaiting his arrival.
The security wizard quickly pushed the other three visitors ahead of Sirius aside and waved Sirius on through to where he saw Fudge and several Aurors waiting to escort him.
“Sorry folks,” said the security wizard, “very important person...”
“Of course ‘e is!” squealed the pretty blonde witch pushing thirty. “‘E’s Stubby Boardman! ... Stubby, can I get your autograph?”
Sirius chuckled; after all these years he was still getting mistaken for the lead singer of the Hobgoblins.
“Sorry, Miss,” said Sirius, “It’s Black, Sirius Black!”
“Oh blimey!” The witch turned pink and batted her eyelashes, looking no less excited to see him. “Sorry! But still... look me up if you’d like a bit o’ company, will you? I’m Ellen Price... I was a couple years behind you - Hufflepuff. I always said it was a frame-up.”
“That’s true - she always did,” said Ellen’s curly haired friend, nodding vigorously.

“Well, I’ll have to see what my partner thinks about that,” Sirius responded with an easy grin and a wink.
“Okay now, make way, make way,” said Minister Fudge, smiling broadly, trying to look as patient as possible. “Sorry, but Mr. Black has waited far too long for justice as it is, and it’s time to make it official.”
“Thanks for the save, Minister,” said Sirius as Fudge led him toward the lifts on the other side of the Atrium, both of them flanked by the Aurors who were busily keeping reporters from the Daily Prophet and other wizarding magazines and papers at bay.
“Please, no need to stand on formality just because we’re in the Ministry, Cornelius will do,” said Fudge warmly. “Goodness knows we’ve become quite acquainted over the years after all...”
Then Fudge leaned in closer to speak in a hushed tone which nobody else could hear. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am the way things worked out. The timing of You-Know-Who and Pettigrew’s failed attempt to go after Potter couldn’t be more serendipitous - but we’ll discuss this a bit more in my office, in private.”
Fudge gestured toward an open lift and Sirius followed him in along with their escorts. The gate rattled shut behind them and Sirius hung on for dear life as the lift hurtled upwards at breakneck speeds. The lift eventually came to a screeching halt and the same female voice which had addressed Sirius in the lift to the Atrium from the telephone box in the Whitehall region of London announced the floor.
“Level One: Administration: Including offices of the Minister for Magic and the Senior Undersecretary and the offices of Administrative Support Staff.”
“Well, this is rather... elegant,” Sirius remarked as he stepped out of the lift onto the plush purple and gold carpet and peered up and down the corridor at the ornately framed portraits on the pastel blue walls and the well cared for ficuses spaced at intervals between highly polished mahogany office doors.
Fudge smiled wryly at Sirius’s comment. Moments later they were both seated in Fudge’s office in well cushioned patent leather chairs, leaving the escorts to wait in the office lobby with Fudge’s secretary.
“We have some time before meeting with Scrimgeour, and then with Lucius and the Wizengamot Administration Services, would you like some tea?” Fudge asked politely. “Or a brandy? I know it’s a bit early in the day for libations, but it’s not every day that one receives full exoneration of all charges and a Wizengamot seat all in one go, after all.”
“Good point!” said Sirius with a grin. “How about a bit of both then? Tea with a splash of brandy sounds just about right.”

“Yes, yes! Quite!” Fudge chuckled amiably. A golden tea-service arrived with a wave of Fudge’s wand and he poured a capful of brandy into each steaming teacup.
“Well, Mr. Black,” said Fudge after taking a sip of his own spiked tea, “from fugitive to Warlock in one fell swoop - that is quite a feat, I must say.”
“Now who’s standing on formality, Cornelius?” said Sirius, smirking slightly.
“Touché! Sirius it is then.” Cornelius took another sip of brandy enhanced tea, then continued. “Now that we have a bit of privacy, we can speak more openly, Sirius. I think we both know why, after all these years, you chose now to escape the confines of Azkaban...”
“Ah, no need to object, Sirius.” said Cornelius when he saw Sirius open his mouth to respond. “I think you had a very good idea that I had come around to the view that you were most likely innocent and had been unjustly imprisoned. ... Of course, screaming in the streets that you had killed the Potters had made it all too easy for Bagnold and Crouch to lay it all on you - but clearly, in hindsight, Pettigrew had framed you.”
“Yes,” Sirius sighed. “I was supposed to have been the Potters’ Secret Keeper, but Peter had suggested that Voldemort would never suspect him, and I bought it, hook, line, and sinker, and sold it to James in turn. I completely underestimated that little rat-bastard, and Peter knew I had always underestimated him, even during our school-days - and he clearly took advantage of that after he joined Voldemort.
“Maybe if I hadn’t been so dismissive of him, things might have been different. But looking back now, I’m not so sure. He was almost infatuated with James, and I doubt he actually gave my haughty attitude much thought - it was James’s attention he craved - and perhaps a bit more, now that I think about it.
“I honestly can’t imagine how anyone could switch sides and betray all their friends merely for the sake of cowardice, when it was clearly the more dangerous of the options. A coward would have fled Britain altogether and just left us all to sort it out ourselves.
“I’ve had ten years to think about it, and I think it was envy. Peter wanted everything that James had - power, talent, charisma, glory, gold, girls - but Peter was lazy, always hated hard work. He wanted it all easy and thought he could get it by sucking up to the most powerful, richest kid on the block.
“But basking in James’s presence, hoping for some of it to rub off on him clearly wasn’t enough. I think he reckoned that he could get loads more by sucking up to Voldemort and having a free pass to just steal what he wanted, and... well... the rest is history.”
“Yes!” Cornelius nodded. “Sadly, there was a lot of suspicion to go around in those days, but nobody would have thought that Pettigrew had it in him. I know I didn’t. Though over the years I began to question things a bit more every time I visited your cell...”
Fudge shook his head and sighed heavily with regret. “In any case, when I last saw you - saw how you reacted to James Potter’s son being turned into a Receptacle - that’s when I knew for certain. There was no doubt in my mind then that you were innocent - and I knew you would try to escape - I could see it in your eyes.
“I knew you would do everything in your power to rescue Harriet... and if I could have helped you, I would have. Unfortunately, the Minister’s Office is not what it once was - not since Dumbledore decided that negotiating an end to the war after You-Know-Who’s defeat was a better option than hunting down every last Death Eater.
“Since the Grand Bargain, the centre of political power has been an ex-Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, and Dumbledore. When I became Minister after Bagnold stepped down, I was as hopeful as everyone back then that cutting a deal was the best solution for lasting peace - but with every new piece of legislation coming out of the Wizengamot, I grew more disenchanted with the Bargain...”
Cornelius trailed off, looking a bit distant and uncomfortable. Then he shook his head and began again.
“And so here we are - on the one hand, Harriet’s defeat of You-Know-Who again, and especially the exposure of Pettigrew, and Harriet’s subsequent escape has afforded you the opportunity for exoneration and to claim your right to inherit the Black Estate - but on the other, Harriet herself is now a fugitive, and again my hands are tied.
“There is little I can do should Harriet and the Granger girl be captured - the best I can offer is that I am more than happy to pass along to you any leads the DMLE has and give you a chance to find the girls before they do.”
Sirius was stunned, at a loss for words to hear Cornelius openly confirm what he, Sirius, had only suspected, and even more surprised that Cornelius would offer to pass along official secrets. He wondered if he should tell Cornelius the truth, but what if this was all a ruse to draw him into a trap?
Sirius drained the rest of his tea and brandy with a single gulp, and decided that it was perhaps best to wait and see.
“So... Well, this is a bit of a shock, I must say, Cornelius,” said Sirius after dabbing his moustache with a napkin, his voice slightly hoarse. “I really can’t thank you enough for the offer! ... Yes, of course, I’ll take any help you can give me - anything you can do to help me fulfill my role as Harriet’s godfather is greatly appreciated.”
Cornelius nodded and smiled wanly. “I just wish I could do more. In any case, we still have ten more minutes before meeting with Scrimgeour and Malfoy after - another tea with brandy?”
Sirius thought for a moment. “No Dumbledore? ...just Scrimgeour and Malfoy?”
“No Dumbledore!” said Cornelius cannily, his smile widening.
“Then I think I’ll just have the brandy!” Sirius said with a grin. “And make it a double! I’ll need all the help I can get to stop myself from smacking Voldemort’s ex-poodle upside the head and getting myself landed right back in Azkaban.”
Two hours later after meeting with Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Rufus Scrimgeour and submitting to a Veritaserum confirmed interview (with Cornelius Fudge present) which invalidated his all too public “confession,” and signing numerous documents, Sirius Orion Black exited Scrimgeour’s office a legitimately free man with his record completely expunged and a Ministry settlement of a million galleons for time served in Azkaban.
Sirius had lunch and several more shots - this time of Firewhisky - with Cornelius, and then spent most of the afternoon “making nice” with Lucius Malfoy, sitting in meetings with the Wizengamot Administration Services and the Office of Estate Adjudication Services, and signing many more official documents.
At the end of it all, Sirius Orion Black exited the Ministry a legitimate Warlock - Head of House Black - with a seat on the Wizengamot, just as dusk began to settle over the streets of London.
He snorted and shook his head, unable to get the uncomfortable comment that Lucius Malfoy had made out of his mind, referring to Sirius as one of a dying breed, a Nobleman. As it grew darker and began to rain again, Sirius decided to walk home from Whitehall to Grimmauld Place - which was in the Islington Borough of London - to give himself time to think.
It wasn’t enough just to look after Harriet and Hermione - although for the immediate future that was his top priority - and it wasn’t enough to simply plot Dumbledore’s murder in revenge for what he had done to Harriet and her friend.
No! What was needed was nothing less than the overturning of the entire political culture created by the Grand Bargain over the last decade.
The current system was nothing more than a much watered-down version of the society that Voldemort himself had envisioned - a society under his dictatorial thumb which included nothing less than the subjugation, torture, and mass-murder of muggleborns and muggles.
Now that Sirius was a Wizengamot member, he would need to cultivate support among those who still held to the values which Dumbledore himself had once supported a decade ago - the values of full rights for all muggleborns in the wizard world - the values of democracy for all - the values of freedom from slavery and second-class citizenship. With that support, they could work to begin fighting back within the system.
But Sirius also needed to find the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had no doubt been driven underground - like Remus himself - ever since Dumbledore had abandoned the Ideals the Order had stood for. It was time to reorganise and mobilise a new Order - a Secret Order with a new name - the Phoenix no longer represented those Ideals which they had put their lives on the line for.
They needed an underground organisation which was prepared to fight back from without the system when the Pureblood Supremacists and the Halfbloods who were invested in the current political culture inevitably sacked Cornelius Fudge and began resorting to violence and Ministerial Authority to intimidate the Egalitarians in the Wizengamot and society-at-large into submission.
The rain grew heaver and Sirius turned up the collar of his cloak to pull a magically hidden hood over his head in the nick of time as the rain turned into a downpour. There was a flash of lightning and a mere three seconds later a rumble of thunder, just as he was passing Trafalgar Square.
As the roar of thunder faded, Sirius thought he heard a voice calling out, barely audible in the thrum of rain.
“Sirius - Sirius Black!”
Startled, Sirius’s hand slipped inside his cloak, ready to grab his wand as he spun around. Right behind him, in the yellowy curtain of rain under a streetlamp, was a woman in a long black cloak holding an umbrella. There was something vaguely familiar about the grey-haired square-jawed woman.
“Er... Do I know you?”
“We met a few times - over ten years ago. You knew one of my younger brothers, Edgar.”
“Good Lord! Amelia? ... Amelia Bones? You’re an Auror aren’t you?”
“Was an Auror - I resigned in protest after Dumbledore struck the Grand Bargain with a bloody Death Eater. Anyway, can we please get out of this bloody rain and find a place to have dinner? ... I think we need to talk!”
~o0o~
Sophie Roper, naked and shackled in chains in the cage with the equally nude Katie Bell, had cried herself to sleep, while Katie, feeling horrible herself, had tried as best as she could to cuddle up with the younger girl and comfort her. Very early Monday morning - about five o’clock - the two nude young witches were woken up by Midge the House-Elf.
Through her jumbled and disjointed dreams, Sophie heard the squeaky voice calling out to her and Katie.
“Wakey, wakey missies. You is to be house-trained before breakfast.”
Sophie cautiously opened her eyelids, afraid that the sperm would run into her eyes and sting badly as it had last night, but it had dried, and crusty bits flaked off, falling onto her naked breasts.
“Wh-what?” she whimpered. “H-house-trained?”
“He means like pets,” Katie muttered angrily. “We’re nothing but animals in a zoo now, and he’s our zookeeper!”
“Yes!” squeaked Midge happily. “Miss Katie is being very smart Receptacle - like Miss Hermione!”

“Oh,” said Sophie miserably. She felt like crying again but was all cried out at the moment. “B-but why do we need to be house-trained? We’ve seen what we have to do since almost the beginning of the term.”
“Seeing is good, but Midge must be making sure that you is being trained properly. You is not cleaning yourselves last night and must have time to lick each other clean before breakfast. And Miss Katie must not be forgetting to clean Miss Sophie’s vagina.”
Sophie and Katie both looked down between Sophie’s legs - widely stretched open by the spreader bar - to see Hagrid’s dried semen on her hairless pussy lips and mound, and the very top of her inner thighs; and some of his sticky semen was still oozing out of her sore entrance. Both girls wrinkled their noses in disgust.
“And you is not peeing in bucket or pooping in litter box before bedtime. It is not so important to be pooping at night, as long as you is pooping at least once a day in front of students, but you must be filling bucket with pee so you is always having plenty to drink.
“Is okay for now, Midge and other House-Elf shall be making sure you is not thirsty and giving you both drink - and then Midge is to be watching at least first peeing and pooping, and then you is to l-lick each other’s... p-poop hole clean.” Even Midge wrinkled his nose in disgust at that.
Then Midge snapped his fingers and a second House-Elf appeared.
“You is having drink first,” he said in a magnanimous tone of voice.
Then he hopped up onto Sophie’s front, his little feet digging into her breasts as he clung painfully to her hair with one hand. Midge flipped up his tea-towel, revealing a semi-flaccid lumpy looking sort of penis and pressed it against Sophie’s lips.
Sophie didn’t want to open her lips, but her Compulsion collar forced them open of their own accord. She screwed her eyes shut as his penis entered her mouth; it felt slimy on her tongue and tasted different from the boys’ penises.
“You must be opening eyes,” Midge ordered. “Headmaster says that Receptacles must always be seeing what they is doing.”
Sophie’s eyelids fluttered open and she had a very close up view of Midge’s belly which was pressed against her nose. Then she felt the House-Elf’s penis twitch and boiling pee started squirting into her mouth and she gagged. It tasted horrid, though Sophie wasn’t sure which bodily fluid tasted nastier - the very idea of swallowing either of them still made her stomach churn violently.
Nonetheless, Sophie had no other option than to suck the penis as if she were a calf drinking from a cow’s udder, and she began slurping it down. The pee rushed down Sophie’s throat into her stomach and it kept coming. It seemed to go on forever but finally it slowed to a trickle.
Midge withdrew his penis from Sophie’s mouth and shook the last few drops of pee onto her face as the urine in her stomach sloshed around. When he hopped off her breasts they bounced back into shape, her flattened pink nipples poking out once more.
Now that Midge was finished, Sophie knew what she was supposed to do next; she shot a quick look at Katie who was still looking rather ill herself, pee dribbling from her lips.
Glumly, Sophie tried to remember how Harriet and Hermione had stood up - it had looked hard, though they had both got quite good at it. Sophie drew her knees back towards her with a bit of difficulty, but she finally managed to get to a point where the soles of her feet could flatten against the marble floor.
Then she tried pushing herself up the side of the cage, her stiff muscles screaming and the metal bars digging painfully into her back. Sophie glanced at Katie who had struggled to her feet as well.
“D-do you need to go first?” Sophie asked.
“Er... I can hold it if you want to go first,” said Katie kindly.
“Okay.”
Sophie waddled over to the tin pail and crouched down. She tried to relax - which was hard with Midge watching her intently - and finally her labia parted; a stream of golden pee sprayed out and the bucket rattled until the bottom began to fill and she heard splashing instead.
When she was finished, Sophie waddled to the litter box and crouched down again. Relaxing her sphincter was even more difficult to do with the House-Elf watching her every move, her face burning with humiliation. But finally her poop began to emerge and she heard it plopping into the sand in the litter box.
Katie followed suit and when she had finished, the House-Elves both departed, leaving the girls to lick each other clean.
Sophie was revolted at having to tongue Katie’s stained bunghole; licking up and swallowing the dried sperm on Katie’s breasts, face, and matted hair was gross too, only slightly less disgusting.
But Sophie had to admit, when Katie licked her clean, started with Sophie’s own anus, then moving on to her vagina, it felt strangely nice. By the time Katie had finished cleaning Sophie’s boobs, face, and hair, Sophie felt a surge of affection for the second year ex-Gryffindor, and she vowed to herself to try harder not to show her revulsion at licking Katie clean.
“Th-thank you,” said Sophie quietly, her eyes pooling as she peered at Katie apologetically, her face burning again.
Katie smiled sadly at Sophie. “It’s okay. If it’s any consolation, it felt nice to me too.”
Then a pensive expression crossed Katie’s features and she bit her lip.
“Er...” Katie began after she had thought a moment, “I’m not entirely sure, b-but I think Dumbledore might have made us be able to lactate when he made our breasts bigger...”
“Lactate?” Sophie interrupted, not sure she had ever heard the word before.
“It means producing milk,” Katie explained, her cheeks turning pink. “If... if you’d like, you can drink some of mine - I’m sure it’ll be nicer than drinking pee or sperm - and... and at least it’s something people are supposed to drink.”
“Oh!” said Sophie, her eyes widening as she considered it.
The thought of sucking another girl’s nipple still seemed very embarrassing to Sophie, even though she had just licked Katie clean. But on the other hand, all they were ever going to be allowed to eat or drink again for the rest of their lives was going to be sperm and pee. Milk sounded loads nicer.
“Al-alright then,” Sophie squeaked, her cheeks heating up again. “I think I might like that.”
Katie nodded and shifted into position, her chains jangling. Sophie hesitated when Katie’s nipple brushed against her lips, then she opened them and began to suck. As Katie’s warm, sweet milk filled her mouth, Sophie suddenly felt much better than she had all night. She drank until her stomach felt settled then released Katie’s pink rose-bud from her mouth.
“You can have a turn too... if you want,” said Sophie shyly.
Katie smiled wanly again, and then she began sucking Sophie’s nipple. The surge of... almost happiness that Sophie felt as Katie slurped down her milk grew more and more and more intense.
When Katie had finished - just as the massive oak doors of the Great Hall swung open and hundreds of footsteps could be heard, Sophie felt slightly more resigned to sucking all the horrid penises and swallowing sperm for breakfast, but the fear of how rough and brutal many of the boys were didn’t lessen.
In fact, Sophie’s terror only grew worse when she was told that she would be fed by the Slytherins this morning. She trembled violently when Draco Malfoy commanded her to milk him first.
“My father’s the boss of the Wizengamot and I’m a Noble,” he gloated as he viciously yanked Sophie’s hair and dragged the nude young girl between his legs. “This is going to be the best tasting milk you’ll ever have!”
To Sophie’s horror, when Malfoy released his penis from his trousers, it looked nearly as big as Hagrid’s. And without any fanfare, he grabbed her head and savagely thrust his cock down her throat all in one go...
Breakfast went by in a blur as one Slytherin after another violently raped Sophie’s throat and filled her stomach with their sperm. She tried to keep the memory of how nice it had been drinking Katie’s real milk, and she managed to get through breakfast without falling apart completely.
Sophie kept that memory at the forefront of her mind all day as she and Katie were compelled to go from one seventh year class to another together, semen coating their faces and hair, the older students ogling their nakedness as they groped their vaginas, squeezed their boobs, laughed and jeered at them, and called them rude names.
And she kept it in her head after lessons let out and they were put back in their cage and forced to urinate and defecate and lick each other’s bungholes in front of everyone. And she kept it all through dinner, sucking off the Gryffindors, who, like the Hufflepuffs the night before, were only slightly less aggressive than the Slytherins.

And when it was all over and she and Katie were shackled and locked in their cage for the night, Sophie felt a deep sense of relief. And as revolting as the task still was, Sophie licked Katie clean, swallowing every drop of semen, feeling at least a small measure of happiness knowing that she was making Katie feel good...
AN:
@ Ladyedgecombe: Thank you! ... :-)
Well, once the Fascists take over completely, many otherwise decent people are either frightened into keeping their heads down, or start to grow used to it. And of course, most of the kids who grow up in a system like that just accept it as normal. Just a sad fact of life. It takes a lot of political will and dedicated people to organise a resistance movement when things are that bad.
@ ClaireR89: Yep! I'm a Katie Bell fan too! ... Sorry! ...
Anyway, of all the Weasleys besides Fascist wannabe Percy, and Ron in his more obnoxious moments, Fred really is the more aggressive Twin. And having spent a few years at Hogwarts as teenage boys in a horrible system like that when everyone else is doing it too - well, they're going to take advantage of the situation. Their parents will eventually straighten them out though - but they might take a bit more extreme measures than they do with Ron.
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts