Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 291248 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter belong to Rowling and the relevant corporations--though I doubt they want anything to do with this one. I make no money from the publication of this work.

Chapter List
- 2
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- 4
The Feast

As soon as the clock struck seven, delicious smells wafted across the Hall as the Feast which Hermione and Harriet had grown accustomed to over their first four (nearly five now) days at Hogwarts appeared on dozens of platters all over the Hall.
Though she felt a bit queasy, Hermione’s mouth couldn’t help watering at the aroma of roast beefs and chickens, lamb chops, and steak and kidney pies. Harriet was practically drooling too at the delicious smell of shepherd’s pies, her favourite. They both knew all too well that the tables were also laden with peas and carrots, mashed potatoes, Yorkshire Puddings, tureens of gravy, bread rolls, and much more.
“Righ’ then, feedin’ time you two,” Hagrid beamed.
Hermione suddenly fell forward, her little breasts bouncing, when the cuffs released her wrists and her collar detached from the chain dangling from the ceiling. Only the ankle cuffs and spreader bar remained in place. Harriet’s shackles released as well, and they both eyed Hagrid with trepidation.
Hagrid reached into his coat for a set of jangling keys. Finding the right one, he unlocked the cage door and swung it open. Hermione and Harriet glanced at each other fearfully, neither one of them keen to begin “milking” the students and staff members.
“Now come on then, you two!” said Hagrid encouragingly. “Don’ everything smell delicious? Yeh mus’ be famished.”
Harriet’s stomach gurgled, and Hagrid smiled. “See, now come on Harry, le’s get goin’ then. Yeh migh’ as well be first.”
Sighing, Harriet slowly crawled towards the open door then halted. “No! I’m not hungry,” she lied.
Hagrid frowned. “Yeh can’ fool me Harry. Yer hungry.”
“NO!” Harriet insisted, her eyes widening. “I’m fine, really!”
“Righ’ then,” Hagrid sighed. “If tha’s the way yeh wan’ it, Harry, looks like I’ll have ter get yeh started feedin’ meself - Dumbledore would’na want me ter let yeh starve ter death.”
To Harriet’s horror, Hagrid began unzipping his trousers. The eleven foot tall half-giant fumbled in his open fly and pulled out the most enormous penis she had ever seen - not that Harriet had anything to judge it by except the small penis that she remembered as her own when she had been an eleven year old boy - barely four inches at full mast - and Draco's, which had barely been half the size.
Even soft, as it was at the moment, Hagrid's was nearly ten inches long and several inches thick. It had a huge bulbous head, and as she stared at it, the penis began to stiffen. The head grew an angry shade of red as the massive cock lengthened, purple veins throbbing as it thickened.
“I did’na wanna have t’do it this way, Harry,” said Hagrid apologetically. “Bu’ like I said, yeh ain’ starvin’ on my watch. Now ge’ over here an milk me - Snape says Draco Malfoy already showed yeh wha’ ter do.”
Harriet groaned as her head jerked forward. Hagrid had given her a direct order, and her collar was forcing her to obey. Her arms moved of their own accord, dragging her closer to Hagrid. By the time she reached him, his cock had grown to massive proportions - at least fifteen inches long - perhaps bigger.
Harriet tried fighting to keep her lips shut as the doorknob sized head of Hagrid’s penis grazed her cheek, a little drop of liquid already forming in the pinhole at the tip, but her lips parted unbidden, and her jaw opened widely to allow entrance to the massive intruder.
The head of Hagrid’s cock passed Harriet’s lips, sliding over her tongue, barely fitting in her mouth. Unquestionably it was a tight squeeze, as Harriet’s mouth really wasn’t very big. Harriet had been utterly revolted at having to take Draco’s penis in her mouth, but at only about two inches in length at its fullest extension, Harriet almost would have rather sucked Malfoy off again than have to deal with Hagrid’s monstrosity. Hagrid’s knob filled her whole mouth.
The size was bad enough, but the sweaty, bitter flavour of the heated knob, and the oozing liquid dripping from the tip of the knob onto Harriet’s tongue just made everything even worse than it already was. For a moment Harriet thought that at least Hagrid had enough decency to go no further, but she gagged as Hagrid shoved his gigantic cock in another half inch deeper, hitting the back of her throat.
“Go on, Harry,” urged Hagrid, beaming down at Harriet, “Yeh c’n do better’n that! Yeh can’ milk a cow by jus’ pinchin’ the tip of a teat - but yeh’ll need ter take th’ lot in ter make it work on me. I know a strappin’ lassie like yerself c’n do it.”
Harriet was surprised that Hagrid had at least half-acknowledged that she was a girl now, but that thought vanished as quickly as it had flashed through her frontal lobes. It was replaced by the appalling fact that Hagrid’s instruction to take the entire beastly thing in was being taken by Harriet’s enchanted collar as an order.
Her body was following Hagrid’s command to the best of its ability, despite Harriet yelling, NO, NO, NO, inside her head. However, even the best of her body’s ability wasn’t really enough to do the job. There was much retching and gagging, and Hagrid only managed to get another inch in before Harriet could take no more of her own accord.
“Oh well,” Hagrid sighed, “Did’na wanna force it, Harry. Sorry ‘bout this - really am - bu’ it seems the on’y way ter get the job done.”
Hagrid wound Harriet’s messy, long black tresses tightly and painfully around his fingers, and clamped his dustbin lid side hands around Harriet’s head.
“Mmm... Mmm... Mmm...” was all that could be heard of Harriet’s squeals and shrieks as Hagrid strenuously shoved Harriet’s head closer towards his crotch. Several more inches of Hagrid’s gargantuan penis slid into Harriet’s warm, wet throat - it was a wonder that she could still breathe and she suspected that magic probably had something to do with it.
Harriet would have thrown up, but the passage was well and truly blocked by the cock tightly lodged in her throat, and the bile returned to her stomach. Hermione watched in fascinated horror as Harriet’s neck bulged in the front as the cock slowly went deeper and deeper.
By the time Harriet’s tightly stretched lips reached the halfway point - roughly eight inches now - Hagrid began to lose patience at how long it was taking just to insert his penis into her throat.
“Ar, the hell with this,” Hagrid grumbled, and with a single violent thrust of his hips while holding Harriet’s head firmly in place, he forced the last eight inches down Harriet’s throat until he could feel Harriet’s lips and nose pressing against his smelly cotton underwear.
Harriet thrashed wildly, her arms flailing, unable to comprehend that this was actually happening. The tip of Hagrid’s penis was buried somewhere near the entrance of Harriet’s stomach. Then, without allowing Harriet time to get accustomed to the massive fleshy invader, Hagrid jerked his hips back, pulling out halfway, and thrust its entirety back in again.
Continuing to hold Harriet’s head in place, Hagrid repeated the stroke, retreating only to charge forth again... and again... and again, grunting as he built up some speed. The tightness of Harriet’s clinging throat was only eased by its warmth and wetness, and soon Hagrid was pumping in and out at a rapid clip.
All Harriet could do was take it as her throat grew rawer with every thrust. She didn’t even notice that now everyone in the Great Hall was silent, having paused their meal to watch Hagrid feed Harriet.
Giants are notorious for their thick hides, which makes them nearly invulnerable, but it also makes their skin relatively insensitive. To tickle a giant required an iron rake at best, and to get them off required a tube lined with rough sandpaper and a good hour of action.
But Hagrid was only a half-giant. After nearly twenty minutes of rigorously fucking Harriet’s throat, the friction was beginning to work its magic. Hagrid’s eyes rolled up to the back of his head as he felt the first tingles of euphoria rushing through him. He kept thrusting for several more minutes before the swell of pleasure began to take him by storm.
Hagrid stiffened and lost himself, roaring as he held Harriet’s head firmly in place, her lips pressed against his crotch, unleashing a torrent of semen into Harriet’s stomach like a firehose. He twitched and jerked, his cock blasting another half- litre of cum into Harriet’s gullet with every eruption. For several minutes it went on.
Tears streamed down Harriet’s cheeks and soaked Hagrid’s filthy underwear as she felt Hagrid’s bodily secretions flooding her stomach. With every spasm of Hagrid’s penis, pulse after pulse, too numerous to count, another voluminous jet of sticky sperm sprayed down her throat. The pulses seemed to slow and Harriet clung to the knowledge that it would soon be over.
Finally, Hagrid began drawing back, his cock gradually sliding out of Harriet’s throat, even though it was still spurting, the twitches which propelled the semen now coming at 10 -15 second intervals instead of rapid-fire. Harriet assumed that Hagrid was relenting before he had finished out of some small sense of pity.
Harriet was wrong. Hagrid halted the withdrawal when Harriet’s lips encircled the tip of the knob-end of his penis. Still gripping Harriet’s head, Hagrid waited until he thought he had finished, shooting four more hefty loads into Harriet’s mouth. Filled to overflowing, semen seeped out from Harriet’s lips and dribbled down her chin.
Knowing what was expected, Harriet gulped it down, grimacing at the slimy, sticky texture and ghastly flavour. Harriet thought that Hagrid had finished when he pulled the tip of his penis from her mouth; she gasped for air, coughing and clutching at her burning throat with one hand, rivulets of spunk drooling from her mouth. But apparently it wasn’t quite over just yet.
“Gotta get ev’ry las’ drop, Harry,” Hagrid panted, pumping his gigantic cock twice with his fist as it deflated.
Unfortunately (or fortunately?) Hagrid’s aim wasn’t very good, and the last two spurts of cum missed Harriet’s mouth, splattering against her forehead and her nose instead. Harriet felt her eyes stinging from the gobs of semen seeping through her closed eyelids.
Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, still rapidly gasping for breath, Harriet managed to open one eye, her vision blurred by the sticky strands dangling from her eyelashes. She looked up to see Hagrid beaming at her in satisfaction. She thought he couldn’t be any grosser, but Hagrid painfully grabbed a fistful of her hair and wiped his cock clean with it before putting it back in his pants and zipping up.
“Well done, Harry,” said Hagrid, “Yer a bi’ of a messy eater though. Yeh’d prob’ly better clean it up. Wouldn’ wanna give the House-Elves any extra work now, would we? Bit much ter ‘spect ‘em ter clean up in the middle o’ dinner, an’ I don’ think anyone’d wan’ ter step in yer leftovers.”
“Wh...what?” Harriet sputtered, still trying to deal with fact that Hagrid’s spunk was dripping from her face, and stickily matting her hair. “What d’you mean?”
“The floor, Harry.” Hagrid pointed at the puddle of semen on the floor which had drooled from Harriet’s mouth and the drips from her face.
“Er, what am I supposed to clean it up with?” asked Harriet, bewildered and angry that she was expected to clean up after the mess Hagrid had made of her.
Hagrid rolled his eyes and chuckled as if Harriet was asking the stupidest question in the world.
“Why, with yer tongue o’ course,” Hagrid replied with a shake of his head. “C’mon now, be quick about it!”

Harriet sighed as her head lowered toward the floor, forced to by the compulsion charm on her collar. Her tongue darted out and she licked up every last drop of cold, sticky cum off the floor, some of it mixed with dirt from the bottom of many students’ shoes.
“I... I think I’m full now,” Harriet muttered forlornly, wiping her lips again when she was finished.
“Prob’ly so,” Hagrid happily agreed, “I’ll put yeh back in the cage then. Bu’ don’ throw up, or I’ll have ter feed yeh all over again.”
Harriet nodded, trying her best to hold it all down, not wanting to go through that again. Hermione’s nose wrinkled with disgust at Harriet’s state as Hagrid shackled Harriet again, but her eyes were full of sympathy.
Hagrid ordered Hermione out of the cage, and she dutifully followed, crawling, the ends of her bushy tresses trailing across the floor from her head which was hanging in shame. He led her over to the end of the Gryffindor table.
“Well, Hermione, it’s yer feedin’ time now. I reckoned yeh’d prefer milkin’ some o’ yer former house-mates firs’...” said Hagrid. “Make sure ter milk as many as yeh can. Mos’ can’t fill a belly in one go like I can.” Hagrid chuckled at his own little joke. “Yeh’ll need ter milk at least a dozen tonight - I’d say more like twenny fer a proper meal, bu’ there ain’t enough dinner-time left. Yeh’ll jus’ have ter make up fer it tomorrow morning.”
Hermione screwed her face up in misery, knowing the collar would force her to suck at least the twelve penises Hagrid had ordered her to.
“Over here, Hermione - me first!” said a familiar voice. Hermione looked up and groaned when she saw the red hair and freckles...
Meekly Hermione crawled under the Gryffindor table and between Ron’s parted legs. His fly was already unzipped, and his penis was already rock hard. It was surprisingly large for an eleven year old boy - nearly eight inches.
“Like it Hermione?” Ron sniggered as he peered down at her. “Percy put an engorgement charm on it for me.”
Hermione heard Percy’s cheery voice responding. “Only the best for my little brother. Remember me at Christmas, Ron. ”
Sighing, Hermione opened her mouth, wrapped her lips around the end of Ron’s penis and began to suck. Of course Ron wanted the full experience; he shoved Hermione’s head into his lap, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and burying his cock deep in her throat. He violently yanked Hermione’s head up and down, timing the thrust of his hips to maximise his depth.
As inexperienced as Ron was, he didn’t last very long, but he’d seen how one was supposed to do it. After emptying most of his load into Hermione’s stomach, he pulled her head back and filled her mouth with his spunk, then watched as she grimaced and swallowed it.
Resignedly, Hermione crawled over to the next parted legs. Whoever it was already had their fly open and penis out too - this one topping out at ten inches. Peering up between the youthful wizard’s legs, the red hair and freckles indicated that it was probably another Weasley. Hermione groaned.
“Oi, Ron, is this one the Bossy Know-it-All you were complaining about?”
“Yeah, that’s her, George,” she heard Ron’s voice saying, “she’s a real bitch!”
“Huh! She’s a lot prettier than you said she was.”
“I guess - if you like bushy hair and buck teeth.”
George chortled. “Whatever you say Ron.”
Then George peered back down at Hermione, and for a brief moment she thought he was going to take pity on her and offer her a piece of real food. But the moment passed when his grin widened and his eyes gleamed lustfully.
“You’re kind of adorable for a Bossy Know-it-All, you know - cuter than Percy, that’s for sure. I’m going to enjoy feeding you. Go on - hop to it then.”
Hermione sighed and engulfed the head of George’s penis with her mouth. She began to suck, bobbing her head up and down as far as was comfortable for her, massaging the shaft with her tongue, hoping he’d be a bit nicer to her than Ron, and also that he would come just as quickly. George grunted.
“Hmm... not bad Hermione,” said George, grasping her head with both hands. “But you’ll have to do much better than that if you want a good feeding...”
Hermione knew what was coming next - George forcefully jammed her head down, thrusting up with his hips. All ten inches plunged into her wet, unwilling throat. Hermione gagged slightly, but she was getting better and better at controlling her gag reflex with every new cock.
Resigning herself to her fate, Hermione passively let George fuck her throat. He lasted much longer than Ron - but not content with just shooting his load into Hermione’s stomach, he yanked her head back the moment he began to come, leaving just the head inside her lips and wrapped one hand around his shaft.
“Drink up now - there’s a good girl,” George beseeched her as he came like a fountain into Hermione’s mouth.
Hermione guzzled and swallowed the sticky jizz, desperately trying hard to keep up with the flow. She didn’t want to have to lick any up off the floor like Harriet had been forced to. But when Hermione thought it was almost over, George pulled out and unloaded the last four volleys all over her face and hair.
“Why?” she moaned tearfully.
“Because it’s hilarious,” George laughed. “Alright Fred - your turn to feed the Receptacle.”
Crawling forlornly between the next pair of legs she looked up. Oh no! Not another Weasley! Fred was apparently the other Weasley twin she had seen around the Gryffindor common room. But to her surprise, Fred’s large cock was half-flaccid - though even soft it still measured in at about five inches.
Fred leered down at the girl peering up at him pleadingly with big brown teary eyes.
“You poor thing,” he said, grinning madly. “I saw you in that cage all afternoon, with not a drop to drink. You must be a right thirsty little girl! Anyway, I saved some hot water for you - mind you, it’s a bit tastier than your average tea.”
“Wait! What?” gasped Hermione, her eyes boggling. Surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant.
“Now, now, Receptacle 1025 - don’t be an ungrateful bitch. Suck it all down and don’t spill a drop.”
Panicking now, Hermione willed herself not to - but her collar wouldn’t let her. She opened her mouth and took in Fred’s half-mast penis. Unlike the others, he didn’t force it all into Hermione’s throat... She almost wished he had when the steaming hot urine began to flow into her mouth.
Forced to obey, Hermione slurped and gulped down the vile tasting amber liquid as fast as she could, as if truly milking a cow’s udder. She couldn’t believe she was drinking pee right from the source. It seemed to go on and on - finally the stream slowed to a trickle.
Hermione hoped he wouldn’t... NO! He was... Of course he was... Fred pulled out while he was still draining the bottom of his bladder, the last few squirts splashing onto her face and hair. And of course, like all the rest, he just had to dry his penis with her hair.

After Fred, Hermione milked another nine Gryffindor penises, some enormous sixth and seventh year cocks, and Seamus and Dean’s first year cocks - which had also been subjected to Percy’s Engorgement Charm.
Hermione had slurped down a lot of semen by the time dinner was wrapping up, and she’d finished milking the dozen penises, but she knew Hagrid was right. It wasn’t really that much all told - only a few mouthfuls of cum from each boy at best. The only reason her stomach felt full was because of Fred’s urine sloshing around in her stomach.
Struggling not to vomit, Hermione let Hagrid lead her back to the cage and shackle her again next to Harriet. Hermione peered at Harriet, wondering if she looked just as awful. Harriet’s hair was sticky and matted, her face crusting over with drying semen, one set of her eyelids still glued together by a sticky gob of sperm.
As the Great Hall began to empty, students and staff bade Hermione and Harriet a good night. The last one out halted briefly.
“Sleep well,” said Dumbledore kindly, his eyes twinkling. “I trust the luxuriousness of your new accommodations will surpass the debatable comforts of the dormitories. If you thirst during the night, you may always recycle...” Dumbledore gestured towards the tin bucket which still contained Harriet’s and Hermione’s pee from that afternoon.
“...Or call for a House-Elf - they are always willing to provide. Indeed, it behooves me to demonstrate how to make the best use of their services before I retire. To the best of my knowledge, you, Harry, have yet to rehydrate today, and it would be remiss of me to go to bed without seeing to your needs...”
“I’m not thirsty!” Harriet interjected shrilly, knowing whatever the old man was offering couldn’t be good.
“Come now, Harry - there is no point lying to me,” said Dumbledore jovially. “There is no need to put on a brave face. You must drink - it would not do to see you fade from dehydration. ... In any case, to call a house-elf, one merely has to call out their name. A group has been assigned to look after you, led by a house-elf named Midge...”
There was a popping sound, and the oddest looking little figure that Hermione or Harriet had ever seen appeared out of thin air. It was a greyish creature, human shaped but small, about knee high next to Dumbledore, with oversized bat-like ears, and bulbous eyes the size of tennis balls, and it was wearing naught but a Tea-towel with the Hogwarts crest on, as if it were a toga.
“You is calling Midge, sir?” the House-Elf squeaked.
“Yes indeed, Midge. Young master Harry is thirsty, and I wish you to provide him drink.”
The house-elf looked confused. “But Midge is only seeing girls sir. Harry is being a boy’s name.”
“Quite so,” the headmaster cheerfully agreed. “However, the black-haired one is a boy by birth. He is the one called Harry. Professor Snape turned him into a girl earlier today, but it wouldn’t be fair of us to let Harry forget who he truly is.”
Hermione and Harriet both shot vicious looks at Dumbledore.
“Oh, Midge is understanding sir,” the house-elf nodded.
Midge snapped his little fingers and disappeared, suddenly reappearing inside the bars with Hermione and Harriet. Harriet pulled back from the creepy, obsequious little creature, eyeing it warily. She let out a little shriek when it suddenly hopped onto her chest, its bare feet squashing Harriet’s little boobs. The house-elf painfully gripped Harriet’s hair for support, wrenching another shriek from Harriet.
“Master Harry must not be upset,” the house-elf admonished. “Midge is quenching your thirst sir. Master Harry must open his mouth.”
Unable to refuse, Harriet’s lips parted. Her eyes bulged with horror when Midge lifted his tea-towel and a knobbly looking grey penis sprang forth. It was about six inches long - bigger than one would expect for such a little creature - and flaccid, suggesting that it had the potential to grow much bigger in full rut.
“Glrkk! ... kklurg ...” was all that came out of Harriet’s mouth as two inches of the house-elf’s cock entered it.
Harriet squeezed shut the one eye currently available to her, gagging on the fetid taste and strangely slimy texture of the creature’s penis. Harriet’s lips closed around the cock and she automatically began to suck like a baby from a bottle as the house-elf’s urine began to flow.
Harriet hastily slurped and gulped, struggling to keep up with the steady, hot stream gushing into her mouth. It seemed to go on for several minutes before abating, slowing to a trickle. Then the house-elf pulled its penis out of Harriet’s mouth and gleefully shook the last few drops onto her face.
“There you go master Harry sir. Now master Harry is no longer being thirsty.”
Harriet glowered at the horrid little creature still standing on her breasts, holding itself up by her hair.
“Now, now Harry,” the headmaster admonished. “House-elves are highly sensitive beings. You must thank Midge properly.”
“Thank you for the drink, Midge,” Harriet muttered, feeling rather ill as the urine sloshed around in her stomach.
“You is very welcome, master Harry. Master Harry must be sure to call if he is needing anything else.” Then the house-elf vanished and Harriet’s little boobs bounced back, her perky pink nipples poking out as if they hadn’t been squashed at all.
“Well, that should do it,” the headmaster beamed. “I’ll see you both at breakfast then,” he concluded with a wink. Dumbledore’s footsteps faded as he strode out of the Great Hall; the candles flickered out as soon as he shut the door behind him, leaving Harriet and Hermione in total darkness.
“That was disgusting,” Harriet muttered after a few minutes passed, her stomach still gurgling. “I feel like throwing up.”
“You really should try not to,” Hermione urged her. “They’d probably just make you lick it up again in the morning. I know it’s horrible - Fred Weasley made me drink his pee too.”
“Fucking bastard!” Harriet spat. “I swear Hermione - what I said earlier - eventually I’ll make them all pay - every last one of them. I’ll burn this fucking place to the ground.”
“I’ll help you,” Hermione said quietly after a short pause, “If anyone deserves it, this lot does.”
They sat in silence for a while, both contemplating their fates in the darkness, the floor under their bottoms and the bars at their back became harder and harder as the night wore on.
Tears trickled down Hermione’s cheeks. She wished she could hug Harriet and find some solace in the younger girl’s arms, but her wrists cuffed above her head as they were, she knew that was impossible. Hermione wriggled and shifted, trying to get comfortable, even trying to lie down at one point, but gave up when she began to choke as the collar held her neck up about a foot off the floor.
Harriet moved, drawing her knees back towards her torso, and squirmed closer towards Hermione.
“Here,” said Harriet, “Lie your head and shoulders in my lap. My thighs and tummy ought to support you.”
“I couldn’t,” said Hermione. “What about you? That would be dreadfully uncomfortable for you.”
“I’ll be fine. I swear.”
“But...”
“Please!” begged Harriet. “I really want you to.”
Hermione sighed, thinking how sweet Harriet was, despite all the awful things which had happened to them today.
“Alright then,” she said, lying back down, leaning her head and shoulders against Harriet’s belly, supported by Harriet’s thighs in front.
“Thank you Harriet,” she murmured, feeling about as comfortable as she could possibly feel under the circumstances. It just felt nice to have some physical contact with someone kind and caring. Before she knew it, exhaustion set in, and despite the constant plundering of her vagina and rectum by the dildos Hermione managed to drift off to sleep.
Harriet lay awake for hours, listening to Hermione’s gentle breathing while Hermione’s bushy hair - draped as it was between her legs - tickled her tummy and inner thighs.
~o0o~
When Hermione stirred, it was still dark; she wondered how long she had been asleep. She shifted slightly, her elbow grazing one of Harriet’s nipples.
“Hey Hermione,” said a soft gentle voice, “Feeling a bit better?”
“Sorry Harriet,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay! You didn’t...”
“Oh!” Hermione began to feel guilty, thinking that Harriet must have been too uncomfortable to sleep. Harriet had to be hurting all over from sitting like that all night. “Why don’t we switch for a bit then?”
“No!” Harriet shook her head. “I’m okay! Really! ... I’m used to awkward positions in tiny spaces...” Harriet hesitated, as if she was wondering whether to reveal a secret, then she sighed. “My Aunt and Uncle... before they got my Hogwarts letters, they used to keep me locked up in a broom closet under the stairs...”
“That’s horrible,” Hermione gasped.
“It wasn’t so dreadful when I was little of course, but the last few years have been a bit of a tight fit. At least I had a mattress - sort of...” Harriet trailed off; “mattress” was perhaps an overstatement for the thin piece of foam sown inside a threadbare tablecloth, which rested on a toddler sized camp cot.
“I wonder what time it is,” said Hermione, more as a way to fill the silence than anything. She just wanted to hear Harriet’s voice.
“I think it’s about three thirty,” Harriet replied. “I can’t quite make out the clock hands - it’s too dark. But the clock makes a funny clicking sound when the minute hand goes past the sixty minute mark and the big hand goes past the hourly mark. ... And you fell asleep about ten I think.”
Despited Harriet’s protestations, Hermione felt even guiltier for having slept five and a half hours in Harriet’s lap, but it was apparent that Harriet was determined to let her remain there the rest of the night. She wished more than ever that her arms were free to hug Harriet.
“Tell me more about yourself Harriet,” asked Hermione. “If you don’t mind, that is. I only know what’s in the history books, and what you said earlier today. Do your relatives really hate you that much?”
“Yeah,” Harriet sighed. “My uncle hits me a lot, and so does my cousin - I think I prefer that to this though. My aunt has a go at me every once in a while too. I just found out recently - when I learned I was a wizard - that they hated my parents because my parents were wizards.
“They told me my parents were unemployed drunks who died when they crashed their car. It was Hagrid who told me the truth - or I thought he did. ... I dunno what to think now! ... I mean, it doesn’t make sense to me - as far as I know, my mum was like you, a muggleborn. ... If most wizards hate muggleborns - including Dumbledore and this lot apparently - then why would my mum and dad be fighting on Dumbledore’s side against Voldemort? Seems to me like both sides are evil... I just can’t figure it out!”
“Maybe it wasn’t always like this in the wizard world,” Hermione suggested. “Maybe something weird happened after you killed Voldemort...”
“Something magical maybe?” Harriet proffered, trying to relate it to science documentaries she had seen on the telly when the Dursleys had forgotten to leave the door of her cupboard locked during an evening out. “What if when Voldemort exploded, his dark magic sort of tainted all the wizards in Britain, spreading like a plague - or like radiation spreading after a nuclear blast?”
“That’s actually not a bad theory,” said Hermione, impressed by Harriet’s inferences. “Another possibility is that there were still loads of dark wizards left - some of them in the government - and in order to keep the peace and stop another war breaking out, the good wizards might have made some deals with the bad ones.
“Making muggleborns second class citizens - or worse, slaves like us - might have been a compromise of some sort to stop the bad ones from wiping all the muggles and muggleborns out. And after a while, even lots of the good wizards would start enjoying having slaves to do with as they please. Power has a way of going to people’s heads when it’s unchecked.”
“Oh!” said Harriet, sounding oddly disappointed. “That actually sounds way more believable than my theories...”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that, Harriet,” Hermione chimed in quickly, afraid that she had hurt her only friend’s feelings. “I mean, I don’t really know enough about magic one way or the other to draw any conclusions, but it... it’s magic! ... For all I know, you could be dead right. It’s as good an explanation as any without all the facts - it’s a rather brilliant theory really.”
“Thanks Hermione!” The happiness in Harriet’s voice at being praised almost broke her heart. “I wish I’d made friends with you on the train before I met Ron! He turned out to be a right tosser - just as bad as the rest!”
“Well...” Hermione began, not really knowing why she was about to give that awful boy the benefit of the doubt, “to be fair, he probably just doesn’t know any better, being raised in this culture.
“I’m not saying he would have been perfectly nice before - he seems a bit thickheaded and rude - he was mean to me anyway - but he didn’t start being really ghastly until after Snape made us both slaves today. Once that happened, it was like everyone was given permission to be cruel to us.
“It’s like I was saying earlier - when people have slaves to kick around, they start to enjoy it, even if they’re usually not such dreadful people.”
“Yeah,” Harriet nodded, “That actually makes sense Hermione. That makes me feel a bit better for liking him at first. Ron seemed alright when he thought of me as a famous person. ... Still, as far as I’m concerned, he’s just a selfish pile of dung. ... After the way he treated you in Potions today, and then having to be the first to force you to suck him off at dinner. I hate him just as much as everyone else right now.”
Hermione felt a flush of warmth, for the first time in the last twenty four hours blushing about something nice instead of shame. Harriet’s outrage on her behalf felt like an island of happiness in a vast sea of horror. Before she could stop herself, Hermione found herself kissing the closest bit of Harriet she could easily reach - Harriet’s thigh near the top of Harriet’s knee. Harriet seemed surprised.
“Er, what was that for?”
“I’m sorry - it’s just... for being nice to me. To be perfectly honest, other than my parents and maybe a few teachers, you’re the first person who’s ever been nice to me. All the other children always used to tease me. I never had any friends before. I... I actually hoped it would be better here...” Hermione trailed off forlornly, wondering if she had said too much.
Then she felt Harriet’s lips pressing against her bushy head, somewhere near the vicinity of her ear - probably the closest bit of Hermione that Harriet could easily reach. Hermione felt a bit embarrassed as much of her hair was matted with sticky, crusting semen, but that was nothing compared to the flood of relief and happiness which suddenly washed over her.
“Me too Hermione,” Harriet whispered. “I never had any real friends before you either...”
AN:
@ David15: Just caught your review, and I'm presuming it's for the last chapter as I posted this only seconds ago. I thought about that, and for the moment, as you can see from this chapter, Harriet is questioning why her mother would fight for such a corrupt society if the same thing had happened to her. In any case, thank you! ... :-)
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts