Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 272931 -:- Recommendations : 15 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of its characters, premises, or related information from either the books or movies. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
Chapter 28 — Victory

Harry woke to the sensation of a tongue on his asshole and moaned. He twisted so that he could look over his shoulder. Hermione smiled up at him from between his thighs.

“Morning, Harry,” she said.

“Good morning, love,” he replied, rolling over. Hermione giggled and slid a finger into his ass, bringing another moan churning up from his chest.

“I didn’t get to fuck you yesterday,” she said, “and I don’t know what’s going to happen today, but I’d like to make sure that I get in you sweet ass at least once today. Would you like me to fuck you, Harry?”

“Yes,” moaned Harry, softly. “Please fuck me, Hermione!”

Hermione smiled as she curled her fingers up inside him.

“I thought so,” she said, and rose to her knees, letting Harry see that she already had one of her enchanted strapons secured around her waist. “Roll back over, Harry. Hands and knees.”

Harry got on his hands and knees and arched his back as much as he could. Hermione slid her cock up and down his crack tantalizingly before sliding it into his waiting hole.

“Mmmm,” she purred. “Still so tight. And warm.” She slapped his ass playfully. “You have such a nice ass, Harry.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” said Harry, burrying his face in a pillow.

Hermione thrust into him in long, tender strokes, letting the pressure build gradually.

“Hermione…” moaned Harry, his voice full of pleading. Hermione sped up her thrusts, driving harder and more fully into him each time.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes. Come for me. Good boy…good boy!”

With a whimper, Harry’s cock began to spasm, leaking an almost constant stream of cum out through his cage. Before he could collapse into his mess, Hermione rolled him onto his back and straddled him.

“Open your mouth!”

Harry obliged and Hermione stroked herself a few more times before her own orgasm rocked through her. A jet of clear liquid shot out the end of her dildo, splashing over Harry’s face and chest and into his mouth. He swallowed, relishing the taste of her juices. She tore the harness off and threw herself at him, kissing him passionately. Their embrace was broken by the magical voice of Professor McGonagall, reverberating through the entire castle. The two lovers jumped apart.

“All students are to report to the Great Hall at once. Prefects are to check that dormitories are empty. Heads of House will tally students in the Great Hall.”

Hermione cursed and gave her wand a wave, cleaning them both and clothing them for the day.

“What happened? Is someone missing?” Asked Harry. Hermione shrugged.

“I don’t know…I don’t think she sounded worried, but…fuck!” The clatter of footsteps could be heard on the stairs. “You can’t leave until everyone else is gone. Hide in my wardrobe. I’ll get your cloak and then come fetch you.”

Harry nodded and climbed into the large oak wardrobe while Hermione exited the dormitory. He could hear her barking commands to the younger students. Gradually, silence fell and then Hermione returned with his cloak. Once they were out of the portrait hole, he removed the cloak and stowed it in his bag. Only a few students still meandered in the direction of the hall, and Harry and Hermione were among the last to enter. They gazed around at the sea of confused faces before starting to make their way towards Ronnie, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus.

“Granger. Potter.”

They froze as Professor McGonagall bore down on them. Harry started to blush, his eyes magnetically drawn to the swell of the professor’s breasts.

“Granger,” she continued, “is Gryffindor Tower empty?”

“Yes, Professor,” said Hermione. “All present and accounted for.”

“Good girl,” said the professor, turning away before she could see the blush that suffused Hermione’s face. “Take your seats!”

They sat, Hermione breathing a little hard. The crowd of students chattered and hummed like a massive swarm of insects, rumors flying at an impossible speed: Voldemort would be attacking the castle soon…Dumbledore was being sacked…the ministry was coming back to take over the school…seventh years were being recruited to fight in the war…each rumor seemed equally outlandish. The one that tickled the back of Harry’s mind — one that traveled only between a few select students — was that the debauchery centering around Neville, Cormac, Blaise, and Draco had been discovered and everyone involved was about to be expelled. Though even that rumor seemed unlikely, given McGonagall’s actions the night before.

Finally, Dumbledore entered the hall to gasps from many students, and a few cries of alarm. His wand arm — which had been a shriveled and burned ruin the entire year — was gone entirely. The right side of his head was wrapped in a thick bandages and he leaned heavily on a staff. Professors Flitwick, Snape, and Slughorn also bore the signs of a fight, as did Hagrid.

“Your attention please,” said Dumbledore calmly. “I am aware that my appearance may shock you somewhat. Rest assured that I will be fit as a fiddle once Madame Pomfrey has a spare moment.” He beamed around the room. “Last night, I, a delegation of our staff — Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Slughorn, Hooch, Hagrid, and Vector — and a collection of wizards from the Order of the Phoenix, launched an attack on the forces of Lord Voldemort. After a pitched battle, I was successful in capturing the dark lord. He is held now in a magicless cell at the Ministry, where he will be tried by the Wizengamot. His followers are either dead or in custody. Our victory was absolute!”

The hall erupted in cheers. Hermione leaned close to Harry.

“McGonagall was there? Then who were we with last night?” Harry shrugged. He had bigger problems to mull over. How could Voldemort have been defeated? The prophecy said that Harry had to fight him for there to be a victory! He was supposed to be the chosen one! He looked back at Dumbledore, hoping for some answers. The old man was raising his hand for silence.

“Unfortunately, a few of you in this room have family members who have been implicated in the crimes of Lord Voldemort. You will, alas, need to be questioned. Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Slughorn will be conducting those interviews, along with advocates from the Ministry of Magic.” There was some discontented muttering from the Slytherin table, and a few pale faces elsewhere in the hall as well. “In celebration — and because myself and many of the other teachers will be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future — there will be no classes for the remainder of this week or next. The Great Hall will remain open all day for feasting, and students will be given free access to the village of Hogsmeade during daylight hours. Curfew is to be extended to midnight each night. That is all.”

There was another round of cheers as the headmaster took his seat and toasted McGonagall happily. The Gryffindor table was especially raucous as the meal commenced and Harry did his best to join in the frivolity.

Some time later, a slightly tipsy looking McGonagall made her way down the table and stopped behind Harry and Hermione.

“Potter: when you have a spare moment today, please go see the headmaster in his office. The statue will be expecting you.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Harry. He tried not to look at McGonagall’s ass as she walked away. Suddenly, Luna slid into a seat next to him.

“Morning, Harry!” She said brightly, giving his cock a squeeze under the table.

“Good morning, Mistress,” said Harry quietly enough that no one not already in on the secret would hear.

“Did you and Hermione have a good time with McGonagall last night?” Harry blushed a deep crimson. Hermione leaned around him to look at Luna intently.

“It was you,” she said accusingly, bringing a broad smile to Luna’s face.

“Of course it was, silly! Honestly, I sort of can’t believe that you fell for it. As if she wouldn’t just expel you on the spot. Pfft.”

Harry relaxed a bit as one of the weights on his mind evaporated, though he was left with the knowledge that he knew what the professor’s ass tasted like.

“I knew they’d be out of the castle and decided to have some fun. I have some more of her hair…I think Neville might like to fuck her…”

She flounced away and Harry glanced up at the teacher’s table. Dumbledore was chatting amiably with Professor Snape, who actually looked happy. It seemed to take forever for the headmaster to depart, but when he finally did, Harry excused himself and made his way up to the office. The stud at the door stood open, and Harry ascended the stairs to the headmaster’s office, knocking softly on the door.

“Come in,” came the headmaster’s reedy voice. Harry entered to find the headmaster tinkering with what looked like a metallic prosthetic arm. “Ah! Harry! Please have a seat. I know it’s early, but would you care for a drink?” He offered Harry a snifter of brandy, which he took and sipped from. The headmaster poured a second glass and took his own seat.

“I think I can imagine some of what’s going through your head at the moment, so let me begin by apologizing. I am very sorry for what we’ve put you through. You have done tremendous things in the fight against Voldemort. I can’t stress that enough. You’ve been so brave and heroic and, in truth, vital to the fight, but your most important role, I’m afraid to say, was that of a decoy.” He took a drink.

“You see, towards the end of the first war, I learned that Voldemort had made horcruxes. Horcruxes are magical objects that contain part of a person’s soul…foul bits of dark magic. Basically, unless the horcrux is destroyed, the wizard who made it cannot die. Voldemort would have been keenly aware of this, and knew that he was invincible. I struggled for some time to come up with some secret weapon…some way to counteract that magic, but without any success. I knew what three of the objects were, but not where they were. The problem was finding them while continuing to fight Voldemort.” He took another drink.

“That’s were Professor Trelawny came in. I was on the point of striking divination from the curriculum at Hogwarts when the idea struck me. Sibyl had applied twice already for the post, and was very obviously a fraud…but a fraud with a bit of real knowledge and an excellent act that she would occasionally put on to convince people that she had been seized by some sort of spectral force. I went to her with my idea, and the lines I wanted her to use. The “prophecy” she made was, in fact, written by me as a trap for Voldemort. Severus played his part as a patsy to bring the contents of the prophecy to Voldemort, and his focus shifted from waging all out war to finding and killing a small child.”

“Had the plan worked, you and your parents would have remained safe and secure while I would be free to hunt down and destroy the horcruxes. Unfortunately, Sirius rather bollocksed it up by insisting that Peter serve as secret keeper, and you know how it goes from there.” He looked at Harry sadly.

“With Voldemort out of the picture, however, I was free to seek out the horcruxes, though it took me longer than I would have liked. He desired to make seven in total. He had completed five before he was vanquished, and has made one other since his resurrection. Professor Snape and I destroyed the fifth shortly after Christmas this last year. The sixth was the snake, Nagini, who we killed as part of our assault last night. Voldemort intended to make one more, but, foolish idealist that is, needed the object and the death to mean something. I’m almost certain that he intended for yours to be that death, though he likely would have settled for my own death. However, he longed for the object to be one that had been owned by Godric Gryffindor, and the only two such artifacts known to exist reside in this office.”

“So I’ve just been a distraction? Everything has been a lie?”

“Not entirely my lad. Your mother’s sacrifice did indeed offer you protection, enabling you to defeat Voldemort and end the first war. For that alone, you deserve credit. Add to that that you did, indeed, thwart his plans four more times in as many years. But you were never destined to face him in battle. You are a brave young man, and a perfectly capable wizard for your age, but, alas, you are not yet the type of warrior to face such as Lord Voldemort in single combat. Even I, the greatest wizard of the last two centuries, left that confrontation at the cost of an arm and an eye.” He smiled warmly and apologetically.

"But he is defeated at last. You are free! Live without the burden of destiny! Love without the fear of loss! Make your own path from this day forward! You can still do great things, if you want to, or you could just as easily chose a simple, happy life. Now, unless you have any further questions…” he trailed off and Harry shook his head, numbly.

“Very well.” Dumbledore rose and rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I am, again, deeply sorry that we felt you had to be kept in the dark in all this. Now be off. I’m sure your friends are celebrating already. I myself need another drink and a bit of a nap.”

Dismissed, Harry left the headmaster’s office, feeling deflated and lost, but also somewhat relieved. The events of the previous spring had demonstrated to him exactly how powerful Voldemort and his followers were and how woefully unprepared he was.

The castle was a riot of noise, with celebration seeming to take place everywhere he looked as he made his way to Gryffindor tower. Enough students were having sex conspicuously that he was quite horny by the time he arrived and walked into the wall of sound that blasted him as soon as the portrait hole opened.

“Harry!” Squealed Hermione, running to him and pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re so pale! What did Professor Dumbledore say? Oh! Not here! Let’s go to Hogsmeade: you can tell me on the way!”

She tugged him back out through the portrait hole and through the castle. Once they were outside and strolling across the grounds, he told her everything that Dumbledore had told him. Predictably, Hermione was equally sympathetic and impressed with the intricacy of Dumbledore’s plans. Outside the castle grounds, Hermione urged Harry into the shelter of a small copse of trees where she kissed him thoroughly.

“I’m sorry Dumbledore lied to you,” she said. “But I’m glad you don’t have to duel anyone to the death.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.” Hermione giggled.

“I’m not sure either. But I know something you’re definitely cut out for…” she lifted her skirt to reveal a bare and glistening pussy.

Harry threw himself to his knees, all thoughts of horcruxes and being used as a decoy driven from his head. His mind narrowed to a single, simple purpose as he began to pleasure Hermione. Her hands tangled in his hair and he drove her towards ecstasy. When she came, he eagerly drank her juices.

“Good boy,” she panted, leaning back against a tree. Blushing, Harry stood up and brushed twigs and leaves off his knees.

“So,” said Hermione, “I have an idea that might be fun…how would Harriet like to accompany me around Hogsmeade?”

“There might be too many students,” protested Harry. “They’ll realize that it’s me! Or at least they’ll tell me that you’re going around with some strange witch!”

“Relax. I’ll cast a glamour on both of us…people will recognize that we’re students but no one will know who we are or really bother us unless I want them to know. Does that sound all right?”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Harry, meekly.

Hermione beamed and pulled the enchanted breast forms out of her bag.

“Get naked, Harry! It’s time for a costume change!” While Harry obeyed, Hermione conjured a full length mirror to lean against a tree. Harry adhered the breasts, shivering slightly at the sensation as they fused with his body.

“It’s a no knickers kind of day,” said Hermione, teasingly as she handed Harry a pile of clothing. “Get dressed!”

Harry pulled on knee high white socks, a slightly too short black skirt, a white blouse that pulled snug over his breasts, a grey cardigan, and black patent leather pumps. Hermione giggled as she applied some makeup to his face.

“You look so hot, Harriet,” she said, kissing him again. “One last touch…” she waved her wand and Harry’s hair lengthened, tying itself into pigtails on either side of his head. “So cute! Look!”

Harry looked at himself in the mirror a grinned: he loved the way he looked as Harriet. Giggling, he twirled, letting his skirt swirl up to reveal his cock in its tiny pink prison.

“You’re adorable, babe,” said Hermione, kissing him tenderly. “Let’s go have some fun!”

She took him by the hand and headed for Hogsmeade.

The village was in pandemonium. Huge crowds packed the streets, music spilled from every door, and food and drink were being passed around with careless abandon. The two lovers had barely made it though the village gate before they’d had mugs of butterbeer pressed on them and only a half block before a passing — and very drunk — witch poured a measure of firewhisky into their tankards. They toasted, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all.

“What should we do?” Asked Hermione, as they elbowed through crowds.

“I don’t know,” replied Harry, who’s thoughts were still racing. “Maybe try to find somewhere quiet? We could go out for a meal later, but the chaos is getting to me a bit.”

“I know just the place…if you can get in.”

She lead him off the high street and into a warren of smaller shops, cafes, and private homes. The building she chose was, not entirely surprisingly, a bookshop. Inside, however, in addition to the expected stacks and shelves of books, there were small tables where a few women sipped tea, wine, or brandy. Walking towards a recessed alcove, Harry examined the titles of some of the books. They all seemed to be either on the subject of famous witches, books by famous witches, books of female-specific magic, and various related topics.

“What is this place?” Asked Harry, as Hermione slid onto a small sofa that hugged their table.

“My refuge,” she said, wistfully. “I’ve been coming here for years. It doesn’t have a name, but its a resource for witches who want to get away from bustle or learn about topics of magic that tend not to find their way into conventional spell books. It’s under enchantments so that you can only find it if you’re lead here by a woman who already knows the secret, and there are charms like the ones that protect the girls’ dormitories to keep men out.”

“Who brought you here first? And why did it let me in?”

“Madame Rosmerta brought me when she saw that I kept trying to study in the Three Broomsticks. And I imagine that it let you in either because it recognizes that you’re dressed as a woman or because…sorry, Harriet…or because it doesn’t register you as a man. Or maybe it just knows that you mean no harm.”

“Actually,” said a kind but slightly prim voice, “it’s because the enchantments were made specifically to allow subservient males to enter when their cocks are in chastity and they are accompanied by a mistress, naughty boy.”

Hermione and Harry both yelped and looked up into the face of a middle-aged woman dressed in a neat black dress and an apron. She was grinning wickedly at Harry, with an eyebrow raised.

“Nothing to worry about, dears,” said the woman. “Though you could have asked first, Miss Granger.”

“Sorry, Miss Daley. I should have…just a very exciting day, and Harriet wanted a bit of quiet, and this seemed like the best place.”

“Of course, dear. No need to apologize. I was just teasing. Tea? Or something stronger?”

“Maybe some tea to start?”

The witch smiled and gave her wand a small flick, summoning a tea service, two cups, and a platter of cakes. Hermione poured tea for both of them.

“Anyways,” said Hermione, “I come here quite a lot. There’s actually a passage that leads from the cellar to the castle. Miss Daley showed it to me after I’d been coming here for a few months. I gather that it was added during the run of one of the female headmistresses a few hundred years ago.”

Harry sipped his tea while he listened to Hermione rhapsodize about the history of the building, its clientele, and of Hogsmeade in general. He couldn’t help but stare at the impression of her pierced nipples against the thin fabric of her blouse, and his cock did its best to harden, despite the constant impediment of his cage. After several uncomfortable minutes, Hermione grinned at him, wickedly.

“Something caught your eye, Harriet?” She teased. Harry blushed. “Such a naughty girl; getting distracted like that.” Her hand reached out under the table to stroke Harry’s thigh. “Your skin is getting so soft! I love it!”

Impulsively, Harry leaned in to kiss her, and she reciprocated enthusiastically, her free hand cupping one of his breasts while her other hand ventured further under his skirt. Harry’s hand found their way under Hermione’s skirt as well, caressing and probing.

After several minutes they pulled apart, not wanting to get too carried away in public. When they did, Harry let out a muffled scream: a young woman was sitting at their table with them. She was a little taller than Hermione, with short cropped black hair and a hawkish nose.

“Wotcher, Hermione,” she said, grinning.

“Tonks?” Asked Hermione, incredulously.

“Who else?” Asked the woman, her face quickly shifting to its usual appearance. “You’ll be happy to know that I set up a notice-me-not charm around you two, although, I couldn’t help watching. And enjoying myself, too, I must say.”

“Thanks,” said Hermione, blushing a bit. Tonk turned to Harry and focused intently on his face for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“Oh ho!” She hooted. “This explains a lot! How fun! Let me guess…Harriet?”

It was Harry’s turn to blush again.

“Stand up and give us a twirl,” urged Tonks, spinning a finger. Blushing more than ever, Harry stood and twirled, teetering a bit on his heels. As he did, Tonks held out her wand, using it to lift the hem of his skirt.

“Adorable,” she said, smiling. “Did you put him in the cage, Hermione?”

“No. Luna did. I just get to benefit from it.”

“I can only imagine. Sit down, Harriet. So…what do you two young people have planned for today?”

“Come on Tonks, you’re not that much older than us. And no plans really. Just needed to get Harriet out of the castle…take her mind off things.”

“Understandable. I could use some distraction, too. How well do you know this place, Hermione?”

“Pretty well. I come here all the time to study…” she trailed off on seeing the look that spread across Tonks’s face.

“Well, it has a few secrets. Come with me, you two.” She stood up and walked towards a bookshelf that stood against a back wall, running her fingers over the books until she found the one she wanted. Tugging it revealed a narrow passageway.

“I know this passage,” said Hermione, rising and following Tonks. “It runs back to the castle.”

“Same opening; different destination,” said Tonks. “It’s a different book that opens this one. Come on.”

She lead them along a short passage lined with doors, each of which had a small stone disc in the center. Most of the discs were glowing faintly. Tonks held open a door without any glow and ushered the couple inside.

The room within was not quite what Harry was expecting. He had been anticipating another dungeon. Instead, he found himself in a comfortable and brightly lit sitting room. To one side he could see a bedroom suite, and to the other was a small kitchen.

“A few hundred years ago,” said Tonks, “there was a rash of arranged marriages in the wizarding world, and a crackdown on any non-conformist relationship type. All in obvious opposition to the roots of magic, which are all in matriarchal societies in which Sapphic covens played a major role, of course. A lot of this was designed to help hide witches and wizards from the Muggles, who were having one of their occasional “burn them all” eras.”

Hermione was nodding, though Harry was a bit lost.

“Anyway,” continued Tonks, who had shed her robes and was beginning to unbutton her blouse, “this place was set up by the last female headmistress of Hogwarts before she was ousted. It was set up to shelter witches who refused to bow to new patriarchal rules or who simply didn’t want to have to be in a relationship with a man. The tunnel to the castle was to allow female students to escape arranged marriages, and the rooms were to house any witch who needed shelter. There’s a wonderful coven chamber, too.” She was down to her underclothes now, and Hermione was following suit.

“The charm about caged cocks was added to allow women who controlled their marriages — as was only proper — to escape as well…there was a brief period when the ministry attempted to force such women into conventional marriages. Some of the residents didn’t quite trust the husbands, so the proprietress invented the male chastity cage and implemented a policy of semi-feminization and strict subservience for any man, muggle, or muggle-born person allowed on the premises. Speaking of which, Harriet…take your clothes off and come here. Hermione, you, too. And both of you kneel.”

Tonks was now entirely naked and in what Harry assumed to be her natural state. She was a little taller than Harry, with a muscular, and slightly boyish body, with narrow hips and small breasts. Her hair — shaved on one side of her head — was the familiar garish pink, as was the hair under her arms and between her legs. In addition to the eyebrow, nose, and tongue piercings that Harry already knew she had, he could now see that one of her nipples was pierced, too.

Hermione was already kneeling at Tonks’s feet, and had bent to kiss her toes. Harry quickly shed his own clothing and joined her, eagerly inhaling the slightly musky scent of her feet before kissing them as well.

“I like the piercings and the ink,” mused Tonks, whose own body also sported a sizable tapestry of tattoos. “I want to see this pretty little slut cum,” she said, reaching down to gently twist one of Hermione’s nipples. “Let’s see what your tongue can do, Harriet. Hermione, get up on the bed. Harriet can stay on her knees.”

Never needing extra encouragement to lick Hermione’s pussy, Harry waited only just long enough for Hermione to get in place before he dove into her pussy. It seemed that Hermione was nearly always wet, but he had her gushing in short order: if there was one thing in his life that he could take pride in, it was his aptitude for cunnilingus.

“Wow,” said Tonks, when Hermione orgasmed forcefully after only a few minutes of Harry’s dutiful ministrations. “That must be some tongue. Budge up, Hermione. Harry, lie on the bed. I’m going for a ride!”

With some regret — though not much: he was going to eat more pussy after all — Harry lay on his back and Tonks straddled his face. He savored the musky aroma of her pubic hair for a few seconds before she lowered herself fully onto him, her moist folds spreading to cover his mouth. As he began to lick and suck, she beckoned to Hermione, who straddled Harry’s waist so she could kiss Tonks passionately: a mental image that had Harry’s cock straining at its cage.

“Mmm,” he heard Tonks say, huskily, “you taste good. And you really have phenomenal tits, Hermione. Tell me: do you get off on humiliating poor Harry?”

“Yes.”

“You like dominating him?”

“Yes.”

“What do you prefer: dominating him, or being dominated yourself?”

There was a pause as Tonks wriggled on Harry’s face and Hermione pondered the conundrum.

“I like being dominated, I think. The fact that I dominate Harry is almost a symbol of my own submission.”

“Very astute,” said Tonks. “How about you get down there and finger him a bit…get him warmed up for me.”

Harry felt Hermione shifting position and crawling towards his crotch. She lifted his legs slightly and licked his ass tenderly, causing him to moan into Tonks’s pussy. Hermione slid two fingers into his ass and started to pump, gently at first and then progressively faster.

“I think he’s going to cum,” she said to Tonks after a few minutes.

“Not until I do. Come over to this end and lick my ass. I’ll finish Harry off.”

Tonks bent forward, raising her ass off Harry’s face and Hermione raced around behind her to worship it, simultaneously stuffing four fingers into her own gushing cunt. Tonks extended her tongue to lick Harry’s balls.

“This is one of the best things about being a metamorphmagus,” she said, and suddenly her tongue widened and lengthened. It snaked down and back to Harry’s asshole, probing and then thrusting inside. Harry’s moans intensified as Tonks’s tongue licked directly on his prostate. He redoubled his efforts, and, with a flood of fluids, Tonks came into his mouth. He came, too, cum spraying out from his cage, and Tonks withdrew her tongue, letting it shrink back to its ordinary size, lapping up his cum as it did.

“Not bad, Harry,” she said. “Pretty good tasting actually. Here. Try some.” She let his cum slide from her mouth the his and he obediently swallowed. “Now…Hermione: lay on top of Harry and both of you get ready.”

The two teens gaped as Tonks’s clitoris suddenly jutted out from her pubic hair, growing rapidly. A second shaft and then a third sprouted from above and below the first, and in very little time she sported three astonishingly large cocks, each at least as large as Professor Slughorn’s. The top cock sported a ridge that would stimulate Hermione’s G-spot and a tongue like protrusion that looked ideally situated for clitoral stimulation. The bottom cock — the one destined for Harry’s ass — sported a similar ridge and was somewhat thicker than the other two.

“One for each hole,” she said. “And didn’t I tell you to get on top of Harry, Hermione?”

“Sorry!” Said Hermione. “Distracted.”

She clambered on top of Harry and began to kiss him hungrily. They both felt the sensation of librication being magically applied to their arseholes, and then, inch by pleasurable inch, Tonks’s cocks began to push into them.

“Fuck,” groaned Harry as the first eight inches passed into his rectum. Hermione simply panted into his shoulder.

“So full…” she moaned.

“Halfway there,” said Tonks, in a singsong voice. “Ready?”

Without waiting for a reply, she thrust home, sinking her entire massive length into the three holes arrayed for her use. Refusing to give them time to adjust, she started to thrust in and out, first slowly, but with quickly increasing speed. As she did, her cocks slowly enlarged further. Within moments each one was the width of Cormac’s forearm and easily as long as a centaur’s cock. Harry was having trouble focusing as his cock leaked an almost continuous river of cum, which was quickly washed away by the fluid that gushed equally constantly from Hermione’s cunt.

“Such good sluts,” cooed Tonks. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Tonks,” groaned Harry. “We’re good sluts! We’re good sluts.”

“Good sluts for Tonks’s girl cocks,” said Hermione, her voice coming out in a shrill, breathy whisper. Harry looked into her eyes, which were unfocused and almost vacant looking. “Good…cocks…good sluts,” she continued.

“I fucked her brains out!” Cried Tonks, delighted. “Let’s see what happens when I do this!”

All three cocks suddenly split in two, coiling around themselves and thrusting, seemingly of their own volition, in contrary motion to each other. At the same time, they grew again, until each individual cock — two in Harry and four in Hermione — was as big as the initial three had been, stretching all of their holes to outrageous proportion.

Hermione’s eyes had grown hungry, and lust twisted her face into a mask of wanton desire. She kissed Harry furiously until Tonks pulled her head back by the collar. Tonks’s other arm came into view, but instead of a hand, it seemed as though her arm simply tuned into an erect cock past the elbow. She guided Hermione’s head towards the arm-cock and shoved in into her eager throat.

Perversely, Harry felt somewhat left out until he saw that Tonks had lifted one leg onto the bed and had performed a similar transformation with her foot, which Harry immediately took in his mouth, sucking adoringly on its thick length. A solid thrust from her foot sent Tonks’s cock deeper into Harry’s throat and he gagged, spitting thick mucus around the plundering cock.

“Oh good sluts,” whispered Tonks, who’s eyes had closed in rapture. “Good sluts. Milk mommy’s nice hard cocks, that’s it…”

The cocks in his ass seemed to go deeper with each thrust and the one in his throat was pressing inward nearly a foot. Harry half wondered if the two wouldn’t meet somewhere inside him. Suddenly he felt all three cocks begin to pulse.

“Fuck!” Screamed Tonks, and geysers of cum — tasting somewhere between a girl’s juices and a man’s semen — flooded Harry’s mouth and ass. Tonks’s cock was buried far enough in his throat that most of her load went directly into his stomach, but plenty pushed its way backs up and out his mouth and nose. Cum was dripping onto his face from above, running out of the corners of Hermione’s mouth in streams. Harry could feel cum leaking from his ass as well as Tonks slowly drew back. When she removed her arm and leg cocks from their respective orifices, each one let out a final jet of cum, splashing the teens in the faces before transforming back into their usual appearance.

When the bulbous head of Tonks’s cock finally withdrew from his ass, Harry felt a massive flood of liquid leave him, and could feel liquid gushing from Hermione, too. Hermione rolled limply to the side and the two lay panting together for several moments. Tonks seemed to be gathering herself: she was clearly exhausted by her performance, but just as clearly wasn’t done quite yet. Breathing heavily, she stood on the bed and straddled Harry and Hermione’s faces. Her cocks had withdrawn, leaving behind her pussy, which, as soon as it was in position, unleashed a torrent of urine on the two upturned faces.

Used to this from his experience — especially from recent experience with Daphne — Harry opened his mouth to swallow as much of the golden liquid as he could. Hermione simply lay there moaning, her fingers buried in her gaping vagina. When the stream finally cut off, Tonks fell backwards, lying on the only remotely clean part of the bed and presenting a foot each to Harry and Hermione. Harry began to suck her toes immediately, while Hermione had to be nudged slightly before she began.

“That was incredible, Tonks,” said Hermione after several minutes.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Incredible.”
“Thanks,” said Tonks, puffing away at a cigarette that she had conjured. “You two are just about the biggest sluts I’ve ever met. That’s the most cock I’ve ever been able to put out, too, by the way. I think that the hornier I am, the more I can force my body to do. But now I need a bath. Care to join?”

“Yes please,” said Hermione, who seemed to be recovering at last.

“You ought to clean each other up a bit first,” suggested Tonks, beginning to masturbate to the sight of the two teens licking each other all over, their holes gaping obscenely. Finally, Tonks cast a quick cleaning charm and summoned silk robes for the three of them. Hers was a lustrous indigo, Hermione’s was sky blue, and Harry’s was scarlet. Before they put them on, Tonks summoned Hermione’s wig, reapplying it and magically obscuring their tattoos and Hermione’s collar. Harry’s remained visible.

“Any significance to the colors?” Asked Hermione, always curious, as Tonks lead them back into the corridor and towards a staircase that spiraled downwards.

“In the days when this place was a formal refuge, the first mother wore black, full initiates wore indigo, apprentices wore light blue, new recruits wore white, and men wore scarlet. Same rules now, more or less. The first sister wears black when she comes back here. There are a few other women who wear black, too, like Miss Daley. Any woman who has know about the back area for five or more years gets to wear indigo, new women wear blue, and sissies wear red. White is for underage girls, but that’s mostly theoretical at this point. The place is almost exclusively used for sex, so they keep younger girls out. Here we are!”

She swung open an ornate door to reveal a massive bath chamber seemingly cut out of the natural limestone bedrock. The central heated pool was massive — nearly ten meters wide and twice as long all together, though its shape was undulating and irregular — with small niches here and there partially obscured by hanging curtains and potted plants. A dozen or so witches floated or sat here and there around the pool.

“Um…” said Harry, uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” said Tonks. “Even if anyone recognizes you, we’re all sworn never to reveal what takes place within these walls. Actually, that magic is built in. And no one who enters here would ever judge you. Well,” she amended, “they might judge you. And tease a bit. But they would never spread it around either to other initiates or to an outsider. Though you shouldn’t expect them to hold back if they get you in bed outside of this place.”

She lead them to a mostly secluded part of the pool, cast her robe aside and slipped into the water with a sigh. Hermione followed her eagerly, but Harry hesitated, looking around. A few of the women were looking in his direction and whispering to each other. Someone giggled softly. Thankfully, at first glance at least, he didn’t recognize anyone. He slipped off his robe and hurried to join Tonks and Hermione.

For some time they just soaked. The water was the perfect temperature: hot enough to relax muscles, but not so hot as to be uncomfortable after prolonged immersion. It also smelled faintly of lavender and mint.

“Thirsty?” Asked Tonks, and she picked up a tiny silver bell and shook it. It made no noise audible to human ears, but almost at once a bluish form glided through the water towards them, emerging from below the surface.

The figure was about three feet tall and mostly human in appearance, though, in addition to being blue, its skin was somewhat scaly, it had webbed feet and hands, pointed ears that hugged tightly to the side of its head, no nose, somewhat fish-like eyes, and a neck frill that might have acted as gills. Looking around again Harry could see other such figures, most of which wore white loin cloths around their waists and had breast-like protrusions on their chests. This one, however, appeared to be male: it had no breasts, and its cock was securely locked in a tiny gold device.

It bowed.

“How may I be of service?” It asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Some juice, if you’d be so kind,” said Tonks. “Maybe some small snacks?”

“Of course madam,” he said, bowing again. “Will your,” it gestured at Harry, saying a word he didn’t recognize, “be eating and drinking as well?”

“He will. Thank you.”

The thing slid back under the water and shot away.

“Are they naiads?” Asked Hermione. “Water sprites?”

“They are,” said Tonks. “They, along with several other types of sprites, took refuge her and in other similar places a few centuries ago. All sprites are highly matriarchal, and they couldn’t bear to live in the outside world.”

The sprite returned, on foot this time, bearing a tray of food and drink, which it set next to Harry, who was clearly expected to serve. He did so, and they settled back into their relaxed silence.

Less concerned now about being recognized, Harry tried to observe more of what was going on. A few more woman had entered since they had, and a number of them seemed set on engaging in amorous behavior. An older woman nearby lay on a half-submerged bench while a much younger woman — not much older than Harry or Hermione — with very short blonde hair and wearing a gold collar, sucked her feet and another young woman — a liberally-freckled redhead with a similar hair-style and attire — fed her grapes. Two other women near the other end of the pool were twined together in a sinuous sixty-nine.

Harry realized with a start that he wasn’t the only male present, either. When she shifted slightly, he could see that the nearby blonde girl had a delicate bronze chastity device wrapped around a minuscule cock.

He also looked up just in time to see a short man climb out of the pool. The man looked to be in his forties or fifties, and was slightly plump. He, too, had his cock closed in a small cage and wore a brass collar. He knelt to offer a towel to the woman who followed him out of the tub. Harry did his best no to gawk at the woman: even if he hadn’t seen her a several quidditch matches over the years, he would have immediately recognized her as Cho’s mother. She toweled herself off and accepted her indigo robe from the man who must be Cho’s father. After he helped her into sandals, he robed himself and followed her out of the room.

Hermione’s hand on his thigh pulled his attention back to their immediate vicinity. Hermione’s eyes were fixed on the older woman nearby and Harry’s gaze followed. The sissy was continuing to lick her toes, but the redhead had slipped down and was licking at the woman’s vulva. Harry hadn’t examined the woman closely before, but did so now. She was likely in her late sixties or seventies, but with a witch’s ability to age gracefully, she could well be much older. Her skin remained mostly unwrinkled, her breasts only sagged the barest bit, and her body still looked firm. Her hair was steel-grey and pulled into a tight bun and her eyes bespoke of stern wisdom. Her somewhat beaky nose looked vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn’t place it.

She saw them watching and smiled.

“Is that Nymphadora Tonks?” She asked, conversationally. Tonks, who had leaned back and closed her eyes looked up, startled.

“Madame Longbottom!” She said, sitting up straight. “Forgive me for not acknowledging your presence before now!”

“No worry at all, dear. I assume your two friends have quite worn you out. My grandson has been telling about his escapades with these two.” She glanced at the surprised Harry and Hermione — who were equal parts astonished that this formidable yet sexy woman was Neville’s grandmother and that he’d told her what he got up to at Hogwarts. “Yes,” she went on, correctly interpreting the looks on their faces, “I know all about your little depravities up at the castle. I must say, in some ways it rivals what we got up to in my day, but I could tell you stories that would haunt your dreams.” She sighed, running her hands through the redhead’s short cropped hair as the girl continued to nuzzle between her thighs.

“I remember you being quite the exceptional muff-diver, Nymphadora. This one is, too,” she patted the girl on the head. “Perhaps you’d like to give her a try? I’ve been hearing things about what these two can do in that area, and must say that I’m more than curious. A trade perhaps? The sissies can amuse us while we take our pleasure?”

“I’d be amenable to that,” said Tonks. “Hermione? Harry?”

“I’d be honored,” said Hermione, who had, correctly, guessed that, in addition to being a famous witch, Augusta must be the First Sister of the coven. She scooted through the pool as Tonks levered herself out of the water to sit on the rim, leaning back and spreading her legs for the redhead, who had already glided over.

Hermione slid in between Augusta’s legs and feathered a few kisses up her thigh before extending her tongue towards to woman’s lightly-furred vulva. Augusta drew her in closer and took hold of Hermione’s wig before tossing it aside.

“I like short hair on my cunt-lickers,” she said. “Neville told me about shaving you, and I daresay it’s quite fetching. I like Fern’s hair too much to shave it, though. Maybe some of the other girls…”

Harry vaguely remembered that Ron had a second-cousin named Fern, and wondered if this was her. He was distracted however, by the blonde sissy pulling him into a kiss. The blonde pulled back.

“The famous Harry Potter,” she said, in a very mild French accent. “I believe you know my cousins, non?”

“You’re related to Fleur and Gabby?”

“Of course,” said the girl, kissing him again. “Male Veela are prized as sissies. Maitresse Longbottom will only take the best. Now, shall we entertain the mistresses?”

Harry nodded and the girl — he still didn’t know her name — swooped in on him, kissing as if their lives depended on it.

“Out of the water,” ordered Augusta. “You know what I like, Henriette.”

“Oui, Maitresse,” said Henriette.

She and Harry climbed out of the pool and lay, dripping on the tiles. Henriette kissed Harry again and then intertwined her legs with his, grinding their caged cocks against each other. It was a curious sensation, but an altogether pleasant one. He reciprocated, grinding in unison with Henriette.

“Yes, Harry,” said the other sissy. “Rub on my clit. Just like that!”

“Merlin, Henriette,” said Harry, “that feels so good!”

The two sissies continued to rub against each other to the sounds of Tonks and Augusta nearing their mutual climaxes. Suddenly, a two-ended dildo appeared next to them and Henriette seized it eagerly, sliding it into her ass. Harry took the other end and slid it into his ass so that the two could bounce against each other while the dildo pushed into their asses.

“Merde!” Moaned Henriette. “Maitresse, may your sissy cum?”

“You may,” called Augusta, “but Potter may not. He will come here and relieve his girlfriend. Her tongue is quite marvelous, but I’ve heard too much about his skills not to be curious.”

“Merci! Merci!” Whined Henriette, and her cock spurted watery cum onto Harry’s own caged cock.

“Merci, Harry,” said Henriette, giving him a final kiss, “but my Maitresse requires your services.”

Harry crawled back to the pool and slid into Hermione’s place.

“May I lick your quim, Mistress?” He asked, somewhat unsure what word to use on the dignified woman.

“You may. And I expect great things.”

Harry settled in to do what he did best, and, within a few moments, felt the old woman’s hands coil into his hair.

“By the Blood of Morgaine!” Ghasped the woman, “his tongue is miraculous! Granger, come here and suckle on my breast. You, too, Henriette!”

Hermione and Henriette each latched onto a nipple as Harry brought Augusta to a tumultuous, squirting orgasm. When it finally subsided, she drew Harry up and into a kiss.

“You two are wasted on McClaggan,” she announced. “I may let him continue to have fun with you while you’re at school, but I intend to have you as my own one day. Both of you. Now…Nymphadora: take these two away so I may bathe in peace.”

Harry and Hermione bowed to the old woman before turning to Tonks.

Tonks — herself coming down from a wonderful orgasm — took Harry and Hermione by the hands and lead them out of the bath house. As they left the room, Harry distictly hear Augusta mutter, “Nearly as good as James at that…”

Tonks guided them out of the bathroom and into a changing room where they dressed in their street clothes. Hermione banished Harry’s false breasts and let him dress in boy’s clothes.

“So,” said Tonks brightly, “You two just impressed the hell out of the most important magic user in the world. How’s it feel?”

“What?” Asked Harry, startled.

“Augusta is the First Sister of the Hogsmeade Coven, and, by extension, the First Sister of the Global Conclave of Covens. She also controls two-thirds of the seats on the Wizengamot, half the boards of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, owns most of the properties in Dragon Alley, and is the human chair of Gringotts. Plus, she’s an incredibly powerful witch. When she was on the dueling circuit, only Flitwick and Aberforth could come close to matching her, and she usually came out on top over them. I heard that she beat Albus in a duel once, too.”

“She plays herself off as a daft little old lady to most people, but it really is just an act. Even Voldemort never really dared cross her. Bellatrix torturing Frank and Alice would never have happened if she wasn’t absolutely batshit.” Tonks lowered her voice. “There’s a rumor at the Ministry that Bellatrix and Rodolphus were delivered to Augusta for her personal punishment. I’m not sure I believe it, but I also wouldn’t be super surprised, either.”

Harry and Hermione stood in stunned silence for a moment while Tonks smirked at them.

“Well…you two impressing her like this can only be good for you. I owe my career to her influence. So does Moody, Kingsley, Slughorn, and half the Ministry. Wotcher!”

Without further notice, she disapparated, leaving the two teens alone in the dressing room of the coven.

“Should we get back to the castle?” Asked Harry after a long silence.

“I guess so,” said Hermione, kissing his cheek. “I’m sort of fucked out for the day…maybe we can hole up in Luna’s room for a while?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Harry.

The two made their way, hand-in-hand, back to the castle. Hogsmeade was still a riot of sound and chaos around them, but they were both lost in thought. Between the amazing fuck that Tonks had given them and the experience with Augusta, their minds were whirling. When they finally stumbled into the entrance of the castle they were immediately stopped by Professor McGonagall, who appraised them with arched eyebrows.

“Potter. Granger,” she said, holding a sealed envelope out to each of them. “These came for you a few minutes ago. The Headmaster has already approved the included request. Several other students were also invited.” She sniffed and then went on, a strange look crossing her face. “You will hopefully realize the honor implicit in the request and will treat it with the respect it deserves. I expect your owls to leave the castle within the hour and for the two of you to be on your best behavior. I will be escorting you.”

Without another word, she whirled and swept up the staircase. Hermione looked at Harry, clearly puzzled, and cracked the seal on the envelope. Harry opened his as well. The letter read in precise script:

To Lord Harry James Potter:

Your presence is demanded at a celebration to be hosted by the High Lady Augusta Longbottom that will begin this Friday at seven of the clock in the evening and will culminate on Monday at 11 of the clock in the morning. Your presence is required three hours in advance of the celebrations.

Though you belong to, and indeed serve as the head of, one of the high houses of magical Britain, your personal station is known to the hostess and shall be reflected in your duties for the festivities.

Your attire will be provided, as shall further instruction.

All that followed was another wax seal, showing what Harry knew to be the Longbottom coat-of-arms. He looked at Hermione, who handed him her letter. He gave her hers and then read:

To Hermione Granger:

Though you be of low blood and inferior breeding, your aptitude has drawn the attention of those at the highest levels of wizarding society. This aptitude, it must be said, even in this context, is remarkable. It is, however, your talents as a woman of base morals that are of interest in this scenario. In this regard, the High Lady Augusta Longbottom has demanded your presence for her forthcoming weekend of festivities.

You will be transported to Longbottom Manor at Four of the clock in the afternoon this coming Friday. Attire and instructions will be provided upon your arrival.

Harry looked at Hermione, raising his eyebrows. She shrugged and handed the letter back to him. As they turned to head for Luna’s private room, another piece of parchment caught Harry’s eye. He picked it up and read along with Hermione. The letter was in a different hand, this one a looping, feminine, and old-fashioned cursive:

Minerva,

I have just had the most engaging interaction with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger at the coven. You may not be aware that the two have entered into the sexual underbelly of Hogwarts, but they are clearly in it to their cores. Both bear the mark of House McClaggan, though I intend to rectify that grievous error.

They are to be added to the list of those attending my victory celebration. They will depart in the early batch along with the Chang, Lovegood, and Patil girls, and the new Weasley girl. Aurora will, doubtless, prepare their transport. I require you to assist in transportation for the others.

May the Goddess bless you, Second Sister,

Augusta.
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Ceding Control (formerly Goddess of the Moon)