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
- 23
- 24
- 25
The Invitation

It wasn’t particularly late, just after dinner in fact. Nonetheless, the headmaster’s office was lit only by sputtering candles casting eerie shadows on the walls.
One of the shadows stood tall, cast against a high book case, swaying rhythmically, and the other shadow was nearly indistinguishable from the blockish shadow beneath. Only the curves of the other shadow, and its motion in time with the tall shadow behind it, indicated that it wasn’t, in fact, part of the immobile angular object casting the shadow beneath it.
The office was quiet except for sounds of heavy breathing and skin against skin, and a squishy sort of sound, all in sync with the moving shadows. A large bird on a perch, half hidden in darkness, ruffled its feathers, its beady black eyes glittering in the candlelight as it peered in fascination at the human figures casting shadows against the bookcase.
The tall bearded one grunted as his loins - hidden under rippling robes - lunged more vigorously. The naked boy with his front pressed flat against the desk moaned and grit his teeth, the contortions of his features suggesting a myriad of emotions and feelings: pain, unwanted pleasure, and humiliation.
Dumbledore regarded the bare buttocks of the boy, his cock piercing the crevice between the boy’s cheeks, his cupidity aroused to new heights by the view and the delicious friction of the boy’s tight sphincter clinging to his shaft as he pistoned into the boy with increasing intensity.
One of the headmaster’s hands slid from the boy’s hip to caress the smooth skin of the boy’s firm bottom cheek. Dumbledore felt the rush of endorphins which heralded the onset of a climactic finish and gave one final, sharp thrust, burying his shaft deep inside the boy’s arse.
Dumbledore let out a groan as his cock pulsed, releasing his seed into the boy’s rear-channel with every burst. For a few minutes he held the boy in place, basking in the afterglow, then finally, slowly, Dumbledore retreated, his still hard erection sliding stickily from the boy’s back-entrance.
For a moment, the headmaster watched the boy’s gaping sphincter shrink, some of his semen trickling from the opening. He hadn’t planned on indulging himself with the muggleborn lad who would have been a third year student if the boy weren’t a Receptacle, even though the boy had been chosen for that very purpose. But Dumbledore’s immeasurable patience and magnanimity had been sorely tested the last few days and he had needed a release.
“You know what to do next, Patrick,” said Dumbledore, his voice gentle.
Unlike most of those who would use the young female Receptacles, he, personally, saw no need to express his own sexual needs with aggression - though he was more than willing to allow the female Receptacles to be treated in such a manner as it provided a great outlet for the boisterous nature of most young males, not to mention having great entertainment value for all.
The naked boy, Patrick - or Receptacle 1012 as was his official designation - pressed his hands against the headmaster’s mahogany desk and pushed himself up onto his feet. Sniffling, Patrick turned to face Dumbledore, clearly ashamed of his own erection and being used in such a manner.
Dumbledore sighed.
“Really, Patrick?” he said sadly to the boy whose fourteenth birthday was fast approaching. “After all this time, you still have not learned to enjoy yourself with me? You have been here over two years now, I had hoped you would have grown accustomed to the pleasures of sharing yourself with others of your own gender - with me...”
“I do,” Patrick muttered, flushing, clearly worried that he would be taken to task for showing his displeasure.
“Oh Patrick, please, don’t sully our encounters by lying to me. Tell me the truth - you prefer girls, and you still cannot appreciate that I have just as much joy to offer as the female of our species.”
Patrick hung his head in shame, then he slowly nodded.
“I... I do prefer girls, s-sir.” Patrick lifted his head and peered at Dumbledore pleadingly, earnestly, his eyes glistening wetly in the candlelight. “I’ve tried Professor - honestly, I have! I’ve tried really hard to like sex with guys - with you, b-but I... I d-d-don’t, no matter how hard I try to make myself.”
Dumbledore sighed again. “Thank you for your honesty, Patrick. For now, I shall make do, in the hopes that one day you will come to enjoy our encounters. In any case, if you would please...”
The headmaster gestured towards his own penis, still hard, even after their recent coupling. Dejectedly, resignedly, the boy kneeled before Dumbledore and took the headmaster’s soiled lance in his mouth and began to suck.
For over fifteen minutes Patrick sucked Dumbledore’s cock, taking him deeper and deeper. Dumbledore held Patrick’s head in place and began to rock back and forth, his euphoria growing. The surge of pleasure took Dumbledore by storm and muffled spurts could be heard as he released his seed into the boy’s throat.
Patrick returned to his feet, wiping his lips, and Dumbledore smiled at him.
“Thank you as always, Patrick,” he said warmly. “You may return to your quarters, and Midge will bring you dinner from the kitchens if you have not already dined tonight.”
Patrick hesitated, looking torn, then nodded and departed from the headmaster’s office.
Dumbledore had seen it in the boy’s eyes - the guilt he still felt at being treated better than any of the female Receptacles. Patrick had a warm bed, private quarters, books to read, and proper meals instead of House-Elf semen.
The female Receptacles, following their first year housed in the cage in the Great Hall, slept on the cold stone floors of the dungeon cells, shackled and chained, and the House-Elves maintained their feeding regimen of semen twice daily. They met the staff-members sexual needs (of which only a few professors and Filch partook, Severus having been among them), and were employed by some of the professors as props in demonstrations, or as breeding stock for certain magical plants and creatures.
But Patrick and the older male Receptacle, Matthew, were special; they were Dumbledore’s alone and they deserved the best.
Feeling more clearheaded than he had since the previous day while recovering from his injuries, Dumbledore clapped his hands and the ambient light in his office returned to its normal brightness; the candles flickered and went out.

Sitting at his desk, Dumbledore conjured up a pot of Earl Grey tea, squeezed in a slice of lemon, and stirred in a spoonful of honey. He took a sip and started to think.
The recent exoneration of Sirius Black, and his taking up of his rightful claim as the Head of House Black presented a potential problem. Black could have hardly missed the fact that his Godson had become a Receptacle.
Dumbledore took another sip of tea and sighed, wondering if he had made the right decision in fully supporting Black’s exoneration, but there really had been no other choice given the reappearance of Peter Pettigrew, who had clearly been working with Quirrell and Voldemort.
Scrimgeour wouldn’t have believed any other story upon seeing Pettigrew’s body for himself; and though the Head of the DMLE wasn’t the highest official in the Ministry, he was certainly the most powerful department head and was highly regarded by all in the Wizengamot. Going against Scrimgeour’s recommendation would have been politically unwise.
There was no doubt, however, that it had been a wise decision to remain at Hogwarts while Black was at the Ministry undergoing the proceedings which would give him his life back. A personal meeting with Black could have created a problem where none at the moment seemed to exist. Lucius Malfoy’s accounting of the eventful day at the Ministry had been promising.
He and Black had apparently got on swimmingly; that Black could put aside old enmities and make peace with Lucius strongly suggested that Black could see the benefits that the Grand Bargain had wrought, bringing peace to the entire wizard world in Britain.
And Black had never once raised the subject of Harry Potter at any point, which was a positive indication that Black already had a reasonable understanding that being a Receptacle was the best option for Harry under the circumstances of his dangerously uncontrollable power.
If it became necessary to confer directly with Black, should he decide to visit Hogwarts, addressing any lingering concerns might be less difficult than Dumbledore had expected. Though, of course, it was never wise to count one’s dragons before they’d hatched.
Dumbledore decided to table dealing with Black, then, for the moment, and cross that bridge when he came to it. Dealing with Harry Potter was his most immediate concern.
If the missing wands of Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan were any indication, Harry and the Granger girl must have sneaked up to Gryffindor tower and stolen them after Harry had blasted the Great Hall with his Accidental Magic. That the pair of renegade Receptacles had managed to get past the Fat Lady without rousing her was somewhat concerning, but perhaps the residual Aura of Accidental Magic surrounding Harry had allowed them entry to the tower, in the same way that it had afforded them escape from the cage and their shackles.
That seemed the most likely explanation.
In any case, the fact that Harry and the Granger girl had stolen wands was a good sign that they intended to use more magic; Dumbledore had been worried that they might both avoid using magic and attempt to flee as muggles. Fortunately, the DMLE had mobilised the Auror Office, and the Office of Trace Services (a sub-office of the Improper Use of Magic Office), and even the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.
The moment that Harry or Granger used magic, the Trace would pinpoint them. It was just a matter of time.
~o0o~
The muggle pub on the other side of Trafalgar Square was warm and inviting and not overly crowded, despite being the sort of place which would appeal to locals and tourists alike with its nautical theme. The wet witch and wizard passed a table full of loud Americans as they made their way to a booth, glad to be out of the rain.
It wasn’t until the waitress approached that Sirius realised that he hadn’t yet been to Gringotts to retrieve some gold from his vault and exchange it for muggle money. He flushed slightly when Amelia Bones caught his expression and offered to pay for their meals. A few minutes later they were both sipping from pints of frothy lager while waiting for fish and chips to arrive.

“Freedom suits you well, Mr. Black.” said Amelia Bones, giving Sirius a once over.
“It’s Sirius, please...” Sirius smiled, managing to look both a bit wry and sheepish all at once. “And since you’re an ex-Auror, I suppose I can tell you that I owe a wizard and some muggles a bit more than a thank you for their unwitting aid in my time of need. I wouldn’t look half as well without it.”
“Hmm... you don’t say!”
Amelia’s shrewd gaze made Sirius slightly uncomfortable and he took a deep chug of his lager.

“You have them already, don’t you?”
Sirius nearly spewed his beer all over the table.
“What?” he sputtered.
“The girls,” she said quietly. “I was going to offer you assistance to find them. I still have contacts I trust in the DMLE. But you have them already - Harriet and the Granger girl.”
“How... how did you know?”
“I was an Auror remember - slated for the top job when Crouch stepped down.” Amelia smirked slightly, then gave Sirius a warm smile to show she really was on his side. “You were very close friends with Potter and Lupin according to Edgar, as close as brothers. When you escaped from Azkaban recently, after all these years, I asked myself - why now? ... Why not any other time in the last ten years?
“The answer was on the front pages of the Daily Prophet - James Potter’s son turned daughter turned Receptacle. ... I had long suspected that not all was as it seemed when you were originally incarcerated - despite the fact that you were discovered screaming in the middle of the street that you had killed the Potters...”
Sirius flushed again, inwardly cringing at how easy he had made it for Crouch to chuck him in Azkaban without trial.
“...Some of the evidence at the crime scene raised questions in my mind. ... Why, when all of the bodies of the muggles were relatively intact - as badly damaged as they were - would Pettigrew’s body be the only one to be vaporised, leaving behind only a finger?
“There were other little things which didn’t quite add up in my mind, but none were enough to continue the investigation while there were so many more Death Eaters to track down and arrest - not with your apparent admission of guilt....”
Amelia sighed. “Anyway, when you escaped Azkaban, my suspicions and questions were roused again, and when I saw that your exoneration was in the works in the Daily Prophet, along with the news of the girls’ escape from Hogwarts, I had a very strong suspicion that you had made an attempt to rescue them, and that you also may have had something to do with the deaths of Pettigrew and the others as well - but some of that is uncertain. ... How am I doing?”
Sirius raised his eyebrows and rubbed his forehead, wondering how much he could trust Amelia. She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand, an earnest look in her blue-grey eyes.
“My niece - she sent me a letter, you know,” said Amelia gently. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a folded piece of parchment, then handed it to Sirius. “She’s very fond of the girls - Miss Granger in particular.”
“Er... you don’t have to,” said Sirius, his voice hoarse. “That’s private...”
“Please!”
Sirius took the letter and began to read. Several times he rubbed at his stinging eyes as he read how Susan Bones described Harriet and Hermione, and how awful she felt for them, and how unsure she was of the sorts of feelings she was having for Hermione. He passed the letter back to Amelia and nodded.
“Yes, I have them,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Amelia visibly relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God!”
“I was indeed at Hogwarts to rescue them the other night, but...” A hint of pride crept across Sirius’s features. “...They were doing quite well escaping all on their own. The story in the Daily Prophet is largely true - though there are some details which aren’t entirely... accurate, they’re close enough.”
“I thought as much!” said Amelia. “In any case, as I was saying, I do still have some trusted contacts in the DMLE, if you need any help with keeping the girls hidden and safe, please - I’ll do all I can to assist you.”
Sirius furrowed his brow in thought. “One of them wouldn’t happen to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, would he? How about Alastor Moody?”
“Ah - previous members of the Order,” said Amelia. “Shacklebolt, I am not so sure of - he may be too close to Dumbledore - he’s not worth the risk. ... Alastor Moody on the other hand - he lost all respect for Dumbledore after the Grand Bargain. The only reason he remained in the DMLE was just to use the Ministry’s resources to keep an eye on any former Death Eaters.”
“Excellent!” said Sirius. “Good to know! I’d like to meet with old Mad-Eye,” he chuckled. “You wouldn’t know where I could find any other former Order members who parted ways with Dumbledore after the Grand Bargain, did you?”
“Hmm...” Amelia gave Sirius another canny look. “If I don’t, Alastor might. What do you have in mind, Sirius?”
“Oh, nothing much,” said Sirius with a roguish grin, “just a back-up plan if things go south with Plan A!”
~o0o~
“You’re home much later than I thought you’d be,” said Remus as he helped Sirius out of his dripping wet overcoat. “How did everything go?”
“Well, I managed to not kill Lucius Malfoy - Dumbledore wasn’t there to tempt me - Fudge offered to give me updates on the DMLE’s efforts to locate Harriet and Hermione - and Amelia Bones offered to help me overthrow the Ministry should my plans to sway the Wizengamot to legally put an end to the Grand Bargain go awry,” said Sirius blithely.
“Oh, is that all?” Remus’s moustache twitched mirthfully.
“That’s about the size of it,” Sirius replied with a grin. “Where are the girls? Are they still up?”
“They finished dinner about half an hour ago and decided to take some of the books I bought them upstairs to read in bed. Did you want to invite them back down?”
“That’s alright,” said Sirius. “I’ll fill them in tomorrow - In the meantime, why don’t I give you the details over a drink in the parlour? ... And then you and I can get busy ‘reading in bed’...”
Remus shook his head and smirked. “Be careful what you wish for - I could do with curling up with a good book...”
Further down the passage, on their way to the stairs, the portrait of Sirius’s mother caught his attention.
“Ah, there you are Sirius,” she huffed. “You really should leave your little pets on a leash in the cellar while you’re out, instead of letting them run around loose all day! ... The next thing you know, they’ll be peeing on the rugs and scratching up the furniture.”
“I’m sure Remus kept his eye on them,” said Sirius, rolling his eyes.
“Actually - those books I mentioned - I popped out for a short while today and bought a load of them - novels and such - Hermione’s quite the reader apparently. I reckoned they’d be safe with Kreacher now.”
“Oh - well that’s alright, then.” Sirius raised his eyebrows at the portrait on the wall. “See, no problem! Kreacher had the girls well in hand.”
“Hmmph” snorted Sirius’s mum. “There’s something wrong with that House-Elf if you ask me - most unlike himself today. He was actually serving your pets a proper meal for lunch instead of a good helping of...”
“Good night, Mother!” said Sirius wearily.
~o0o~
Hermione sighed happily, pleased to have some muggle novels to read. It had been ages.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to get cracking and start studying magic as soon as possible, but Sirius and Remus had made it clear that they wanted to spend a week or two getting Number Twelve cleaned up first and making it more habitable for the living instead of ghosts.
In the meantime, it was probably good that she and Harriet were taking the time to just relax and give themselves a chance to get over the worst effects of their horrible experiences at Hogwarts. It had only been a few days after all.
Not to mention that Hermione was having a lovely time enjoying Harriet’s delight in experiencing all of the muggle entertainments she had missed out on while living at the Dursleys. It was still infuriating and heart-breaking to Hermione how isolated from living a normal life they had kept Harriet. It was a real marvel that Harriet hadn’t arrived at Hogwarts as a bitter, angry boy who hated muggles.
There had been a very brief debate between Harriet and Hermione about what to read. Hermione had considered some Shakespeare or Tolstoy but instinctively knew that would probably bore Harriet to tears, so she had suggested something by Dickens, Mark Twain, or Robert Louis Stevenson.
But Harriet had her eye on The Chronicles of Narnia and some of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five books. Hermione had quickly agreed, wanting only to make Harriet happy, but Harriet had then struggled to decide between The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and Five Run Away Together.
“Hmm...” said Hermione, “Well, you’ll probably really like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but it might be a bit too soon for you - it’s got Centaurs...”
“Oh!” said Harriet, frowning.
“...And Five Run Away Together is really fun, but it’s the third book in the series. I suppose Remus just grabbed a few off the shelf in the bookstore without thinking much about the order - it doesn’t really matter I suppose - order isn’t that important in the Famous Five series really...”
“Yeah - that one then,” said Harriet, and Hermione’s eager rush of words came to a halt.
“Do you want to read along with me, or would you like me to read it aloud to you?” Hermione asked brightly.
“Oh... er, you don’t mind reading it to me?”
“Not at all,” Hermione beamed, and she began to read.
“Hang on,” said Harriet a minute later, “So George is a girl then, who prefers to be thought of as a boy?”
“That’s right,” said Hermione, nodding. “She’s really named Georgina and doesn’t like the way girls are treated differently than boys - but obviously it’s more than that too. She really thinks of herself as a boy.”
“Oh!” said Harriet, looking intrigued. “Okay, got it.”
Hermione kept going for a while, until they got to the bit in the book where the four children (and dog) were stuck with the Sticks.
“Bloody Sticks!” Harriet growled. “They remind me of the Dursleys. That Edgar - he’s just as rotten and spoiled as Dudley...”
Hermione read some more, finally getting to the good bit where the four children (and dog) had run away to the island with the ruined castle in the middle of the bay. By the time they had finished setting up a cozy little “home” in a cave Harriet couldn’t help it and started fingering herself. Hermione paused, somewhat bemused.
“Er... Harriet? Did you want to stop and mess around a bit then?”
“Oh, I... er, didn’t even realise,” said Harriet, turning a bit pink. “It’s just - I dunno ... I was sort of, er... imagining George messing around with Anne in the cave.”
Hermione giggled. “You know - it’s funny - You’re right, now that I think about it - there’s definitely a bit of sexual tension there, what with George being boyish and Anne being a girly girl. I never even noticed before - I mean, obviously Blyton was never intending that, as the book was written for kids, and obviously they’re really young...”
“But we’re about the same age,” said Harriet, looking more and more aroused, grinning at Hermione, “and I know it doesn’t really make sense, but I’m sort of picturing you as Anne and me as George...”
Hermione laughed again, blushing. Then, before they knew it, the book tumbled off the bed, and they were both snogging. Harriet trailed her kisses down to Hermione’s breasts and began sucking her nipples, her fingers pumping deeper into Hermione’s humid vessel.
Hermione’s hands stroked Harriet’s backside, then slid down, across her smooth skin, to cradle and squeeze Harriet’s bottom cheeks.
“Oh, George,” Hermione squeaked, really getting into the role playing, “That feels really good, but what if Julian or Dick comes back and sees us?”
“So?” chortled Harriet. “They’ll just be jealous...”
“But they’re... oh! ...” Hermione gasped when Harriet pushed her legs apart and began kissing her pussy lips and flicking Hermione’s little bean with her tongue, “they’re... ah! ... they’re my brothers!”
“Even better...” Harriet’s muffled voice emanated from between Hermione’s thighs.
Hermione bit her lip and moaned, her hands tangled in Harriet’s messy black tresses while Harriet licked her out, her tongue deep inside Hermione’s sopping sheath. Harriet briefly paused to keep the game going.
“They’re watching us right now, aren’t they, Anne? ... They’re peeking around the rocks at the entrance of the cave - your brothers, Julian and Dick - and my dog, Timmy, too...”
Harriet sucked Hermione’s nubbin and licked her burning labia.
“They’re all slyly peeking into the cave and they’re wanking while they watch us....”
Harriet thrust her tongue into Hermione again.
“They want to bonk you, Anne - your older brothers want to bonk you - and so does my dog...”
“Mmmmmm...” Hermione moaned again, one of her hands still in Harriet’s hair, her other hand mauling her own breasts, pinching her own tender nipples while Harriet’s tongue wriggled inside her.
“Julian and Dick want you - they want their little sister but they can’t have you because I’ll bloody kick their arses if they touch you...”
Hermione squirmed with delight, her body tingling from head to toe, Harriet’s wet tongue buried in the depths of her vagina, Harriet’s fingers vigorously toggling Hermione’s button.
“They’re cumming - spewing their spunk into the sand at the entrance of the cave - wishing they could cum inside you - their sister - and I’m going kick them hard in the bollocks for even thinking about it...”
Hermione tipped over the edge, the wave of ecstasy crashing through her; she shuddered, squealing and gasping, dousing Harriet’s tongue with her creamy nectar.
Lost in a foggy haze of bliss, Hermione could just make out Harriet wiping off her lips and grinning; she could feel Harriet atop her, their bellies and breasts rubbing together, Harriet’s lips gently pressing against her own as the tide of passion gradually ebbed.
Hermione giddily returned Harriet’s kisses, still panting, chest heaving, her skin damp with beads of sweat.
“That was amazing,” said Hermione when her brain was lucid again. “Maybe we should give The Chronicles of Narnia a go tomorrow night - if you can manage reading about the Centaurs. Susan and Lucy are sisters. I’ll be Susan and you can be Lucy. ... Edmund and Peter - our brothers - they can be captured in a cage by the White Witch and forced to watch us have fun, but not be able to touch us - and she’ll force them to suck each other off and bugger each other instead.”
“Can we pretend Edmund and Peter are Ron and Seamus at the same time?”
Hermione giggled and nodded. “Yes - Edmund can be Ron - he’s really horrible for most of the book, so that sounds about right. But maybe Peter should be Percy Weasley - he’s a bit pompous...”
“...and he and Ron are brothers. Brilliant, Hermione!”
~o0o~
Harriet woke up the next morning with Hermione snuggled right up against her, under her arm, tawny coils of hair spilling over her shoulder. After just a few nights away from Hogwarts, Harriet felt cheerier than ever; she’d only had one nightmare of drowning and being raped, and only one about being back with the Dursleys.
She smiled to herself and kissed the top of Hermione’s bushy head. Hermione stirred and her eyelids fluttered open.
“Mmm... Morning Harriet.”
“Morning Hermione,” said Harriet, feeling her heart do a little flip when she looked into Hermione’s brown eyes. “How was your night?”
“Not too bad,” said Hermione, smiling. “I only had a couple of nightmares - I woke up a couple of times, but cuddling you made me feel loads better and I went back to sleep.”
“Me too.” Harriet kissed Hermione on the forehead. “So, shower? Breakfast? Or do want a bit of a lie-in?”
“Shower and breakfast,” said Hermione, sitting up, the covers falling away from her nude form. “We can have some more fun later.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Harriet agreed.
Not long later, Harriet was blissfully biting into a mouthwatering banger and preparing to eat a piece of bacon after polishing off a bowl of oatmeal and a crumpet when there was a tapping on the kitchen windowpane. Everyone turned to see a large golden owl. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and narrowed her eyes at the interloper.
Looking a bit puzzled, Sirius took the letter from owl and gave it a piece of bacon before it flew off.
“So, who’s it from?” asked Remus. “Surely not Fudge or Amelia Bones already.”
Sirius shook his head as he read the letter, his expression anguished.
“It’s from my cousin - the one who married Ted Tonks - Andromeda. They’ve invited me to spend Halloween with them and Dora.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice isn’t it? They’re the only family you’ve got who aren’t a load of pureblood fanatics. And Dora - she was what when you last saw her? Five? Six? ... As far as I recall, she doted on you...”
“Yes - I was more of an uncle to her than a cousin,” said Sirius miserably. “That’s not the issue - I wanted to spend Halloween with Harriet and Hermione. I’d love to take them and introduce them to my cousins - especially Dora - but we still haven’t come up with a workaround solution to their enforced nudity.”
“Oh!” said Remus, sighing and slumping in his seat. “You’re right...”
“You should go,” said Harriet quickly and earnestly. “It’s okay Sirius! I don’t mind - really! If they’re your only other family...”
“I couldn’t - not on Halloween,” said Sirius, “Besides the fact that I would never leave you out of a holiday, given that it’s the day your parents, were, er... killed, it would be rather heartless of me to leave you behind.”
Harriet gasped in shock! “My parents were killed on Halloween?”
“Oh my God!” Hermione squealed, clapping a hand to her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Harriet...”
“You didn’t know?” Sirius looked appalled. “Surely someone would’ve told you...”
“The Dursleys? Not bloody likely!” Harriet growled.
“Oh no!” Hermione moaned. “I can’t believe it, Harriet! I could have told you - but I had no idea you didn’t know.
“What? You knew? ... How?” Harriet was incredulous.
“The history books - the ones I told you about on the Hogwarts Express!” Hermione squeaked, looking extremely apologetic.
Harriet felt her face burning hotly with embarrassment and anger.
“Of course!” Harriet muttered furiously. “That figures! Everyone knows everything about me but me! Bloody Dursleys! ... I hate them!”
“I’m so sorry, Harriet!” Sirius groaned. “Having this dumped in your lap like that - I can’t imagine how you must feel right now!”
Harriet cast her eyes down; Hermione took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Harriet swallowed, feeling slightly better as Hermione’s warmth brought her back from the edge. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then let it out and opened her eyes again.
“I really don’t want you to miss seeing your relatives, Sirius...” said Harriet; Hermione gave Harriet’s hand another squeeze.
“I can always see them another day,” said Sirius sadly. “I just wish you had a chance to meet them...”
“Maybe we could,” said Hermione; Harriet could see the gears whirring in Hermione’s mind. “What if they came to visit you here? ... Maybe... perhaps... if there was some sort of curtain - across the upstairs parlour, let’s say - we could just peek over it to say hello and chat - we could still sort of celebrate Halloween together.”
“That would be awfully uncomfortable for you two, wouldn’t it?” Sirius looked extremely dubious and shot Remus a look.
Remus sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Honestly, it’s really up to Harriet and Hermione - I’m not so sure how the Tonks’s would feel, but if Harriet and Hermione don’t mind letting them in on the problem, I’m sure they would understand.”
Everyone turned to look at Harriet.
Harriet chewed her lower lip nervously, not sure how she felt about the idea. She’d sort of got used to the constant feeling of humiliation from being gawked at naked at Hogwarts - she was getting more and more used to the idea of being naked around Sirius and Remus with every passing day - and it wasn’t like the Tonks’s would be able to see her and Hermione through a curtain.
...And the Tonks’s, if they were Sirius’s cousins, then they were Harriet’s family too! ... That decided Harriet.
“Yeah!” she said finally and firmly. “I want to meet them! If they don’t mind meeting me over the top of a curtain, then I don’t mind!”
“You’re absolutely sure about this, Harriet?” asked Sirius, still looking highly dubious. “I can’t promise that they won’t feel awkward, but I can promise that they will be very kind about the situation.
“Yeah, I’m sure!” said Harriet.
“Alright then,” Sirius sighed. “I’ll send them a letter with Hedwig and invite them here instead...”
AN:
@ LadyEdgcombe: Thank you! ... :-) ...Yeah, I'm tossing around ideas for the punishments of the other Weasley brothers, trying to come up with things that would fit their crimes without going too crazy and destroying all bounds of credulity.
As to wizarding society, sadly, it is completely unnecessary to postulate theories of spells or potions to corrupt previously moderate societies.
I know Alex Jones style conspiracy theories of chemtrails and other such chemical means are quite popular these days, but really, all societies are susceptible to the siren song of Fascism. The rise of Nazism from the "liberal" Weimar Republic was gradual, and the seeds were already in place with subtle, subsumed attitudes to towards Jews being part of the cultural unconscious, and with the moderates eventually caving to the Fascists.
Even today, you have Trump making all the same moves as were made in the early days of that era.
Anyway, the British Wizard scociety already harboured subtly racist attitudes towards muggleborns and muggles, even in canon - which is why Mr Weasley was trying to push through muggle protection legislation. The Grand Bargain to end the Wizard War at the expense of enslaving some muggleborn and second class citizenship for the rest seemed like a pretty good deal, and justified as being a much more benign approach than Voldemort's plans.
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts