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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
- 30
- 31
- 32
Pleasant (and Not So Pleasant) Surprises

The blue-haired girl giggled again, trying very hard not to wriggle and squirm.
“Almost finished—try and keep it together just a bit longer.”
“I’m tryin’ Remus. It tickles.”
“So you keep telling me,” he said wryly.
Several minutes later, Remus dabbed the last blot of black ink on Dora’s smooth, satiny belly. Sirius had balked at the prospect of painting on the Runes, having felt too awkward to do the job himself. Remus had rolled his eyes and taken on the task of inking the Runes on the trio of naked teenage girls in their care instead.
“That ought to do it,” he said to the girls. “Those Runes should keep you toasty and warm while we’re training you up. It’ll be easier than recasting warming charms every ten minutes.”
“Great,” said Harriet eagerly. “When are we going to the island, then?”
“Oh, give it another hour or so,” said Remus, glancing at the grandfather clock in the parlour. “Sirius ought to be back from his lunch with your friends’ parents by then—the Browns and the Patils—and Xenophilius Lovegood as well. If your friends are any indication, I have no doubt they’ll be joining the Patronus Force.”
“The what?” asked Harriet, furrowing her brow.
“That’s what we’ve decided to name the new version of the Order—”
“The Patronus Force?” gasped Hermione, cutting Remus’s explanation short. “A Patronus is sort of a personal guardian, Harriet, to ward off Dark wraiths like Dementors and Levitholds—they work on Inferi too. I read about them in one of the books in Number Twelve’s library. They’re sort of like beings of light—a manifestation of all your happiest thoughts and feelings.”
“Right in one, Hermione,” said Remus, looking very impressed.
“I’ve heard o’ those,” Dora chimed in.
“But why is this new Order named after them?” asked Harriet, still looking puzzled. “I mean, I sort of get it—but the Ministry and Dumbledore aren’t Dark wraiths.”
“Ah—that is where you are wrong, Harriet,” said Remus, “The laws permitting the sexual enslavement of muggle-born-and-raised wizards, especially of children like you and Hermione, are the very embodiment of Dark forces, as are those who would actively promote them as virtues. It is true that Dumbledore was once a shining beacon who led the charge against the Dark Side, but his so-called compromise corrupted him, making him as evil as any Dark wraith or Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
“Sirius and I decided to name the new version of the Order in honour of you.” Remus beamed. “Your accidental outbursts of magic certainly exhibit many of the distinguishing features of a Patronus. … Though its effects—the destruction of Voldemort and his minions at Hogwarts, not to mention Dumbledore’s pet Dementor which was hiding in the shadows—are unusual. Generally speaking, a Patronus does not destroy, but your magical outbursts are so powerful, that no Darkness can survive in their presence.”
“I don’t get it—” Harriet’s bewildered expression turned into a scowl. “—How could I produce a Patronus? I’ve never really been happy—at least not till Hermione and I came to live with you. The Dursleys were horrid, and Hogwarts was even worse.”
Remus frowned, making a note to himself that perhaps Sirius’s insistence that the Dursleys should be paid a visit was warranted.
“Well,” he said slowly, “if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that your spirit is so full of light, that it managed to see you through the darkest of times. You see, it is not just happy thoughts and feelings, but all positive emotions which fuel Patronuses and shield against the Dark. That includes feelings like love, and the desire to protect others.
“By all accounts, your mother died protecting you—a supreme act of love—I don’t doubt that her own Patronus was spectacular. If my recollection is correct, James indicated that her Corporeal Patronus took the form of a Doe—his own was a Stag.”
“Oh, was mine a Stag or a Doe then?” asked Harriet, trying to wrap her mind around it all. “I was born a guy, but then I was a girl, and I couldn’t tell when I did it at Hogwarts.”
“There is no way to tell,” said Remus apologetically. “It would appear that your own love responded to your mother’s death with raw unformed magic—no surprise there—vanquishing her murderer. When Voldemort tried to kill you again—through Quirrell—your love manifested with an unformed magical outburst once again—this time to protect not only yourself, but Hermione as well—for whom you clearly have a deep affection.”
Harriet blushed, and Hermione’s cheeks turned scarlet.
“Why don’t we go have a look in the library till Sirius gets back?” said Hermione, changing the subject and grabbing Harriet’s hand.
“Oh, er… okay.”
Harriet dutifully followed Hermione up the stairs, still not entirely sure what to make of everything. In short order it was all put behind her when she found herself in a plush armchair, perusing a stack of books of spells with Hermione.
They had been spending a fair bit of time in the library recently, helping Remus and Sirius search for some sort of spell which would help them work around Snape’s curse. Dora and Remus were on the other side of the library, tackling their own piles of books.
Harriet picked up a dusty tome bound in burnt sienna leather from the mahogany table beside her and Hermione. She blew off the layer of dust, revealing embossed gold lettering.
“Magick Moste Beautious and Bountiful,” she murmured before cracking open the cover. Like many of the older books in Number Twelve’s library, the manuscript was what Hermione had called “illuminated.”
Harriet raised her eyebrows at the colourful images surrounding the floridly embellished script. Before Hogwarts she would have been painfully embarrassed to look at the bawdy illustrations. But after everything that she and Hermione had been through, the pictures seemed rather tame. She kept turning the yellowing vellum pages, asking Hermione for help at intervals whenever she came to a particularly difficult passage to read.
Hermione’s features were as nonchalant as Harriet’s, unconcerned as she was by the increasingly graphic sexual illustrations, each more scandalous than the last. They weren’t all spells which had results that were anything to with sex, but they all involved some sort of sexual ritual, and most had something to do with beautifying one’s appearance. Harriet turned another page with Hermione peeking over her shoulder.
Harriet laughed aloud at the ridiculously large mound of dark brown hair piled atop the head of a pale-faced woman with crimson lips and an Elizabethan collar around her neck.
“Blimey,” chortled Harriet. “How did she get around like that? I’d think she would tip over.”
Hermione giggled. “It is a rather silly looking hairstyle. But I suppose they thought it was attractive. Let’s see the next page then.”
Harriet complied with Hermione’s request, still chuckling. They both peered with great interest at the extremely well-endowed woman swathed in layer upon layer of intricately patterned fabric—a dress with a bulky, voluminous skirt and the puffiest sleeves yet.
“Hmm…” said Hermione, shaking her bushy head. “Talk about being able to get around. I don’t see how anyone could move in that get-up.”
“Maybe that’s what the spell is for,” said Harriet, chuckling again. “It probably makes that dress loads lighter or something.”
Hermione scanned through the text, which was so elaborate that even she was having trouble with it. She came to the illustration at the bottom of the page and gasped.
“What?” said Harriet, squinting to see if she was missing something. “So she’s got some sort of dildo in her—it’s nothing we haven’t seen, or had shoved in our own… er, vaginas.”
“You don’t understand, Harriet,” said Hermione, sounding half-excited and half-dismayed. “That’s how she managed to get around in that ridiculous dress. The dress isn’t real at all. It’s an illusion.”
“You mean she walked around naked with a dildo inside her?” Harriet frowned. “But I thought Sirius and Remus said loads of wizards who were any good would probably be able to see right through illusion spells.”
“Not this one, apparently,” Hermione gnawed her lower lip and read through the spell again. “It’s some sort of charm that requires insertion into an orifice to activate. The charm is applied to the item to be inserted, and the item to be worn. Apparently men can use it too, they just have to stick the object in their bum.”
“Oh!” Harriet looked intrigued for a moment, then she sighed. “I suppose we’d have to go around looking stupid in those old-fashioned clothes.”
“I don’t think so, Harriet,” Hermione shook her head as she read through the passage a third time. “The spell will make it look like any clothes we like. All we’d have to do is hold the clothes we want to wear in our hands and repeat the incantation for each item.”
Harriet’s heart began to race; she was starting to feel just as excited and just as discomfited as Hermione.
“We’d still be naked though,” she moaned, “and we’d have to walk around with a bloody dildo inside our vaginas.”
“Well,” Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harriet, “this is the only spell we’ve come across that suits our needs. You don’t want to be stuck in the house all the time forever and only go to out of the way places in the wilderness, do you?”
Harriet sighed and shook her head. “I suppose we should give it a go and see if it actually works. I don’t think there’s any dildos lying around Number Twelve though. How about a little candle, or a pencil, something like that—will that work?”
Hermione gave Harriet an anguished look.
“No,” she squeaked. “Whatever we use has to be at least eight inches long and two inches in diameter.”
“Bloody hell!” Harriet snapped. “Of course it does. Whoever came up with this spell must have been a bloody pervert.”
Hermione nodded and bit her lip again. “That’s about the size of it.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, suddenly realizing what she had just said, and Harriet rolled her eyes.
“What’s goin’ on over there?” Dora called out from the other side of the library. “You two alright?”
“Erm, we’ve found something…” Hermione began.
“…and it’s bloody stupid…” Harriet went on.
“…but it should work.” Hermione concluded.
“Well, that’s excellent!” Remus beamed, his moustache twitching happily. “Sirius will be thrilled.”
“Did I mention the part where it’s bloody stupid?” Harriet growled. Hermione swatted her on the shoulder.
“Well, let’s see then,” said Dora eagerly. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”
Hermione showed Dora and Remus the book and began to explain. Dora’s eyeballs nearly flew out of her sockets and Remus rubbed his crinkling forehead and sighed.
“Bloody hell!” swore Dora. “’Ooever came up with that spell must’ve been a bloody pervert.”
“That’s what I said,” Harriet grumbled.
“Well, still, we should probably try it,” said Hermione reproachfully.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a couple of nice long, fat, and bendy dildos lying around?” Harriet asked Remus in a blithe, faintly sardonic tone of voice.
“They can’t be bendy,” said Hermione. “It says whatever object you use has to be made of wood or metal, and it should have multiple ridges and protrusions to make it less likely to slip out.”
“Of course it does,” Harriet snarled. “Because why should anyone be too comfortable just to wear those enormous, stupid puffy outfits like they used to in the old days.”
‘It was supposed to help with posture,” Hermione pointed out, cringing as she said it. “Those sorts of clothes were only worn by royalty and lords and ladies after all.”
“I suppose they had funny walks too then, did they?” said Harriet sarcastically.
“I expect they got used to it,” said Hermione in a small voice.
Harriet finally registered Hermione’s distress and shot her an apologetic look.
“Yeah, I expect they did,” Harriet sighed. “We more or less did at Hogwarts. Sitting’s going to be a right pain though.”
“I suppose something like that will be easier to find than a dildo then, anyway, won’t it?” Harriet asked Remus.
“Yes, actually,” Remus muttered sympathetically. “I’m certain there are some, erm… large silver candlesticks which should fit the bill…”
“And I brought some muggle clothes with me that you can use as templates for the spell to mimic,” said Dora, “as long as you don’t mind jeans and t-shirts and jumpers.”
“That’s fine with me,” said Harriet, glancing at Hermione.
“That’s usually the sort of thing I used to wear most of the time anyway,” said Hermione. “I only wore skirts when Mum and Dad took me out.”
“Right then. Be right back.” Dora followed Remus out of the library.
While they waited, Harriet and Hermione practiced the incantations and wand movements. By the time Remus and Dora returned, they felt reasonably sure they could perform the spell.
“I’ll just wait outside then,” said Lupin, passing them the sizeable silver candlesticks. “Just knock when you’re ready for us to have a look.”
Dora turned to leave as well, but Harriet called out to her.
“You can stay, Dora,” she said, her face reddening. “Just in case we have a bit of trouble, you know… fitting them in.”
“Oh, alright then.”
Harriet and Hermione cast the spells on the candlesticks while Dora watched. The pair of young witches weren’t sure whether to be happy or dismayed at the numerous ridges at both ends of the candlesticks and the ornately moulded shafts bearing embossed serpents curling up the sides.
Hermione spread her labia with her fingers and pressed the top end in between as best as she could. She moaned as her slick entrance gave way, stretching around the two inch wide shaft. She forced it inside her as far as she could, her inner-walls gripping the cold, silver candlestick tightly.
There were still about three inches protruding from her pussy lips and she glanced at Dora pleading for help.
“Right then, here goes,” said Dora, grasping the bottom of the stick, “Just lemme know if it hurts too much, alright.”
“Okay,” Hermione whimpered, and Dora started firmly shoving the candlestick deeper while trying to be as gentle as possible.
Hermione was panting by the time Dora had finished; only the thin, flat base was protruding now.
“That’s it then, love,” said Dora, peering at Hermione sympathetically. “How does it…erm..?”
“…feel?” Hermione finished for her. “It feels really uncomfortable. Still… It’s lots better than having a bloody rat living in my vagina I suppose.”
They both heard a loud grunt and looked over at Harriet who appeared to be struggling to get the last inch inside her.
“D’you need any help, Harriet?” Dora asked.
Harriet shook her head, though beads of sweat were trickling down her forehead and dampening her long black fringe.
“I’ve got it,” she managed to gasp. “I’ve had blooming carrots, enormous Centaur penises, and squid tentacles, and gigantic Shokushu tentacles stuffed inside me. I ought to be able to handle this.”
Harriet gave one last, sharp thrust, letting out another loud groan, and the rest slipped inside her. Dora waited until both girls began to look more relaxed, their taut expressions softening.
“Okay, you two ready then?”
Hermione and Harriet both nodded. They each held Dora’s clothes in turn and waved their wands, muttering the incantations.
“Crap!” said Harriet, looking down at her naked figure. “It didn’t work.”
“Yes it did,” said Hermione.
Harriet looked at Hermione and her eyes widened, surprised to see her fully clothed.
“But why didn’t it work for me?” moaned Harriet.
“It did,” said Hermione. “I can see clothes on you too. But I can’t see my own either.”
“And I can see ‘em on both of you,” said Dora, looking very impressed.
Harriet rolled her eyes. “Great! No matter how clothed we look, we’ll still feel bloody naked wherever we go. I suppose that’s what the bastard who came up with this spell wanted.”
“Hang on a minute,” said Dora. She waved her wand and conjured up a mirror then held it up to Harriet.
Harriet gasped. “I can see them on me! Blimey!”
“That makes sense,” said Hermione. “Whoever uses the spell would want to make sure it worked.”
“Well, I’ll still feel naked,” said Harriet, “but at least I’ll feel better knowing for sure that it worked.”
“Right then,” said Dora, grinning, “Now how about we let Remus in and see what he thinks.”
Remus’s eyes lit up when he saw his and Sirius’s two charges apparently dressed in clothes. Then a voice called through the house.
“Oi, where is everyone?”
“Library,” the three young witches and Remus yelled in unison.
Sirius poked his head through the door and gaped in shock.
~o0o~
“George?”
“Yes, Fred?”
“No, I’m asking. Are you sure I’m not you?”
“Oh! Well you do look like me. Maybe you’re George after all. But wouldn’t that make me…”
“Fred Weasley!” called out a sharp voice neither one of them expected to hear after classes. “George Weasley! You two are coming with me.”
“What?” said George.
“Why?” asked Fred.
“Whatever it was, we didn’t do it,” George blurted out.
“Besides, we were just going to go and chuck a few snowballs at the Receptacles…”
“…and maybe tell the sculptures and snowmen to have another go at them…”
“… and I’m sure they’re missing their company. It’s been a whole day since yesterday afternoon, after all…”
“…and…”
“Will you two please shut up!” Professor McGonagall snapped. “Enough with the Twin-speak!”
“Er…okay,” said George. “Sorry Professor. Just letting off a bit of steam after being cooped up in class all day.”
“No doubt!” said McGonagall dryly. “However, you shall have plenty of time to let off some steam. It would appear that your parents need you two at home for the time being.”
“What?” asked Fred, paling. “Is Ginny alright. Nothing’s happened to her, has it?”
“Or Ron?” asked George worriedly. “He’s been home for a while. He’s not dying is he?”
“Nothing quite so drastic,” said Professor McGonagall, her voice softening. “Both of your younger siblings are safe and sound. I must say though, your concern for Ronald is admirable, if unexpected.”
“Well, yeah, I suppose we do take the mickey out of him a bit,” said Fred, his ears reddening. “But he’s still our brother.”
“It would seem that there is still hope for you two yet. Will wonders never cease?” Professor McGonagall arched her eyebrows. “In any case, you shall both be returning home by floo. Is there anything you wish to collect from your dormitories before you leave?”
“Nah! We’re good,” said George. “Everything we need is at home.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” McGonagall retorted, a mysterious almost smile hovering at the corners of her pursed lips. “Well, gentlemen, if you would please follow me.”
~o0o~
“Brilliant!” said Sirius, grinning broadly after a brief explanation of the spell and how Harriet and Hermione had discovered it. “This is fantastic. What say we put off the training till tomorrow then? We should go out to celebrate—say a movie and dinner in a restaurant.”
“Oh, er… Right now?” Harriet began, glancing at Hermione, not sure that she was ready to go out in public just yet.
“There’s no time like the present,” said Sirius.
“Hmm! Perhaps we should give them a bit of time to get used to it,” said Remus sagely. Sirius looked a bit disappointed.
“Good point,” he sighed. “Is that what you want to do, Harriet?”
Harriet bit her lip indecisively. She hated to see her godfather looking so disappointed. She knew how much Sirius had been looking forward to taking them out, And there was no question that Harriet had been dying to get out of the house a bit in the muggle world and simply feel normal again. Not to mention she had never really been in London before—not properly anyway. King’s Cross didn’t really count.
She glanced at Hermione again. Hermione shrugged noncommittally.
“It’s up to you Harriet,” she said. “We could just walk around the house for a bit to get used to the feeling, and then go out if you’d like.”
Harriet nodded. “Yeah…yeah! Okay! That’s a good idea.”
“Splendid!” said Sirius. “Right then! I’ll have a look in The Guardian—see what’s playing.”
“I’ll help with that,” said Dora, grinning. “But maybe instead of dinner in a restaurant later, we should just grab some burgers or fish n’ chips for tea and eat in a park first instead. That might be a bit less stressful than hangin’ out with a load of people right off the bat.”
“That seems like a wise plan,” Remus agreed.
“It is raining, though,” Sirius pointed out, “but it’s up to Harriet and Hermione.”
“It sounds great to me,” said Harriet, feeling a bit relieved at the idea. “I don’t care if it’s raining. That just means there’ll be less people around.”
“That’s true,” said Hermione, who was quite relieved herself.
As it turned out, it was a good idea that Hermione had suggested practicing walking a bit first. The candlesticks began to vibrate, twist, and pump, all at the same time the moment she and Harriet took their first steps.
“Oooh!” Hermione gasped, clutching Harriet’s arm.
“Gaaah!” Harriet groaned, grasping Hermione in return, her knees wobbling.
“What’s wrong?” Sirius, who was nearly out of the door, spun around in alarm.
“N-n-nothing!” stammered Harriet, her face blazing as she squirmed, too embarrassed to tell Sirius that the candlesticks were more or less shagging her and Hermione.
“We-we’ll be alright,” Hermione gasped. “We just need to get used to it.”
“If you’re sure,” said Remus, who raised his eyebrows skeptically.
“Come on then,” said Dora, dragging Sirius and Remus through the door, “Just let them get on with it.”
She shot Harriet and Hermione a sympathetic look as she hustled the two grown-ups out of the library. It was just in the nick of time. The gyrations, vibrations, and thrusting were already bringing the two young witches to orgasm.
“Aaah,” Harriet and Hermione moaned on unison as their bellies flinched.
The blissful release overtook them. It was a miracle they both remained on their feet.
“Blimey,” Harriet muttered. “I should’ve guessed. Stupid spell inventor! What a b-bloody… ”
“…pervert!” Hermione groaned. “Y-y-you were absolutely right Harriet!”
“But we’re still going to manage, right Hermione?” said Harriet, gritting her teeth.
She was determined now not to let anything stop her from enjoying a bit of freedom—and she could hardly say that she wasn’t enjoying the rushes of pleasure coursing through her veins with every thrust into her depths and every vibration against her little pearl.
“Y-yes!” agreed Hermione. “Okay! L-let’s keep going then.”
The pair of young witches traipsed around the house, up and down the stairs, holding onto the bannisters for support every time they climaxed. They had peaked about four or five times, their juices trickling down their inner-thighs, by the time they managed to gain a bit of control. A half an hour later, they plateaued at a pleasantly euphoric level and grinned at each other.
“I guess this isn’t so bad,” said Harriet giddily. “Maybe the pervert made the spell this way just to get through the boredom of hanging around royal courts all day.”
“You know, Harriet, that makes a lot of sense come to think about it,” said Hermione, who had been beginning to think the same thing.
“Ready then?”
“Ready!”
Half an hour later, Harriet and Hermione were sitting on a wet bench in Saint James’s Park, eating burgers and chips in the rain with Dora, Sirius, and Remus, and watching the ducks playing in the ponds.
Knowing that everyone else only saw some young girls in clothes, but feeling very naked, just heightened the thrills of pleasure coursing through them as the silver candlesticks continued fucking them. Flushed with elation, their nipples perking, puddles of their own nectar mingled with the puddles of rainwater under their bums.
Sirius and Remus seemed completely unaware. But their young blue-haired companion, Dora, eyed them cannily as she munched her burger, thinking that next time she would join them with a candlestick of her own in her quim.
~o0o~
“Hi Mum, hi Dad,” said the Twins in unison after both had emerged from the kitchen fireplace and the green flames flickered and went out.
“Hello boys,” said their father in a stiff sort of voice. “How are things at Hogwarts?”
“Er…” Fred furrowed his brow, perplexed by his father’s tone.
“Alright, I suppose,” said George, eyeing Mum warily. Despite the smile on her face, she had a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, I expect they are indeed,” said Mum breezily, “No doubt the Hogwarts Receptacles provide much needed entertainment to relieve the stress of classwork.”
Fred gulped, his eyes widening.
“Well, yeah,” said George as nonchalantly as possible, “That’s what they’re for. But you know us—we keep busy—”
“I know you do,” piped up a chirpy little voice as their younger sister entered the kitchen. George noticed the same dangerous gleam in her eyes that was still glittering in Mum’s. “I hear you’ve been getting up to loads of fun at Hogwarts with those two little girls.”
“Now hang on a minute,” chimed in Fred, speaking up properly for the first time, “How would you know what we’re getting up to? Has Ron been telling tales…?”
“Now don’t you start having a go at your brother,” Mum snapped, “He’s got nothing to do with you. What do you take us for? Idiots? You don’t think we have our ways of getting information from Hogwarts when certain things come to our attention.”
Dad flung two newspapers down on the table, his jaw tight, a vein throbbing on his temple. He looked like he was too angry to speak—a sight that Fred and George had never seen before.
Fred glanced at the photos on the front page. The first lot had been taken not long after Potter and that Granger girl had been turned into receptacles. He could see Ron roughly groping the girls in one of the pictures, with he and George standing in the background.
And on the front page of the other Daily Prophet, were the photos released the day after the Shokushu event. He and George both spotted Scabbers peeking out of Granger’s cunt in one of the pictures.
“We didn’t have anything to do with that,” Fred blurted out.
“That was all Ron,” said George.
“And I suppose that neither of you got up to anything nearly as horrible with the poor girls at Hogwarts over the years then?” Mum snarled. “Ron is the only one who has ever done anything ghastly to the ‘Receptacles’ is he? … Think very carefully before you answer, boys.”
“Erm…” George squirmed.
“I suppose we might’ve had a bit of fun,” said Fred, his voice quaking.
“We’ll see just how much then,” said Dad, beckoning them. “Over here lads.”
Fred and George shakily approached their father, both wondering what he had in store for them, and not entirely sure that they deserved whatever punishment he might have planned.
“It’s not like we were doing anything wrong,” Fred muttered when Dad gestured for him to turn around. “It’s like George said, that’s what Receptacles are for…”
“…and everyone else was having fun with them too,” said George as he too followed his father’s nonverbal instructions and turned his back towards him. “They’re not really people—not like us, anyway…”
“THEY’RE LITTLE GIRLS!” Ginny’s shriek painfully ripped through Fred and George’s eardrums, “LITTLE GIRLS JUST LIKE ME! … AND YOU WERE HORRID TO THEM!”
The Twin’s ears were still ringing when they felt leather straps wrapping around their necks. It took them both a moment to realise what the straps were, the cold hard surfaces of the dangling metal tags and rings pressing against their skin.
“No!” gasped Fred. “You can’t…”
“Receptacle collars?” moaned George. “You can’t be bloody serious.”
“Okay Dad,” said Fred anxiously, “joke’s over—”
“This is no joke, boys,” Dad said grimly.
“We promise to leave the Receptacles alone from now on—don’t we, Fred?” George shot a terrified look at his twin and Fred nodded.
“Yeah—that’s right,” he quickly agreed. “We won’t even feed ‘em if you say not to.”
“You really don’t understand—do you?” said Dad, an anguished look on his face. “Don’t you two remember anything your mum and I taught you about muggles and muggleborns?”
“Well, yeah,” said Fred, feeling very puzzled.
“But what does that have to do with Receptacles?” asked George, who was just as bewildered. “They’re different.”
“HOW?” Ginny’s shrill little voice made the twins cringe again. “How are they different? Just because they don’t have clothes on? Or is it the slave-collars and the chains? Or just because Dumbledore says so and everyone else too?”
“Er… all of the above?” said Fred, hoping that it was the right answer to get him and George out of this horrible mess.
“It looks like Ginny was right!” Mum snarled, her eyes boring right through him. “She said you two wouldn’t get it. … She said it would take you both a lot more to see the error of your ways than it did for Ron. … I didn’t want to believe it—but she was absolutely right.”
“What d’you mean? What about Ron?” asked George worriedly.
“What’d you do to him?” asked Fred, his voice rising a whole octave.
“Never you mind about him right now,” said Mum severely. “That way! Move!” she snapped, pointing through the living room door.
Fred and George hesitated and shared a look of horror. They began to follow their mother’s command, but they hadn’t been quick enough and the collars jerked their necks, dragging them into the living room. They were both flummoxed to see a scarlet and gold velvet curtain across the far wall which usually had a window overlooking the weedy patches on that side of the yard.
The curtain parted as the twins drew nearer. Their eyes bulged and their jaws dropped in shock when they saw what had replaced the wall.
“A cage? You’re putting us in a bloody cage?”
“Damn straight!” Dad growled.
“But it… it’s outside.”
“So? You didn’t think we’d want your new ‘habitat’ cluttering up the house did you?” said Mum sharply. “Or stinking it up for that matter.”
“And Professor McGonagall assured us that the poor girls at Hogwarts frequently have to endure exposure to the elements for extended periods—rain, snow, or shine,” Dad added.
“You won’t be any worse off than the girls up at Hogwarts right now. In fact, you’re going to experience everything that they have—and I do mean everything!”
“Everything?” squeaked Fred.
“Everything!”
“You mean…?” George’s look of shock turned to utter dread.
“I mean that everything you have ever done to any of the ‘Receptacles’ at Hogwarts you are going to do to each other. You are going to do all those ‘fun’ things that you enjoy so much to one another. … And you are going to live like they do—eat and drink like they do…”
“Eat…?” Fred whimpered, remembering what he and George had made them eat a few days ago.
“But th-that’s revolting… and we’ll starve,” George moaned, who hadn’t quite remembered that bit yet. He was still thinking about what the Receptacles usually dined on and drank at meal times.
“That won’t be a problem,” Dad assured the twins. “There are spells to increase the production of the necessary, er… nutrients to feed each other. That’s enough chatting for now—off with those clothes, boys—your new residence awaits.”
“Ginny?” Mum turned to glance at their little sister. “Were you planning on staying for this bit then?”
“Oh!” Ginny’s eyes widened and she shook her little red head vigorously. “No!” Then she narrowed her eyes at Fred and George.
“I hope you two have loads of fun together,” she hissed furiously before darting out of the living room and running up the stairs.
“At least we’ll have a curtain up,” muttered Fred as he began stripping down, sounding just as angry as Ginny. “S’pose that’s something.”
“Don’t count on not having an audience,” snapped Mum. “Your father and I and your sister may not be keen to see you engaging in sordid activities, but I expect Ron might like to say hello. … And I don’t doubt that the kids we’ll be fostering soon might be interested in having a laugh every now and then.”
“Kids?” George frowned as he tugged his jeans off. “What kids?”
“So who’re you going to be fostering then?” asked Fred.
“You’ll see,” said Mum with a nasty looking smile on her face. “And if Warlock Black can solve a little problem, his kids might come to visit too. I expect they’d all enjoy a good laugh.”
“Warlock Black?” asked Fred, who was completely naked now.
“Black?” said George, “Isn’t he the one who escaped Azkaban and got exonerated?”
“That’s the one,” said Dad. “Your mum and I knew him a bit, back before the end of the war. We were a bit too busy raising you kids to join in properly ourselves, but we did our best to support the war effort in every way we could…”
“He’s got kids?” Fred tried to work out the math in his head. “Wouldn’t they be in Hogwarts now?”
“Under normal circumstances they would be—but these aren’t normal times—not for someone like him… or like us for that matter.” Dad pointed at the door of the cage. “Enough questions—in! Now!”
Shivering, Fred and George stepped through the invisible barrier preventing the wind and rain from entering the house. The steel cage door clanged shut behind them.
“Just one last thing, boys…”
The twins looked back at their father.
“Sperma Magnitudo Necessarius,” he incanted twice, aiming his wand first at Fred’s crotch and then George’s. “That should do it. You’ll be able to feed each other as much as you need. … Bye for now, Fred, George.”
And then the scarlet and gold curtain whipped shut, but not before the twins noticed their mother still smirking evilly at them.
The freezing rain pelted down from clouds several shades of grey darker than the steel bars above them. Shivering, Fred and George sat in the muddy weeds, their backs against the steel bars closest to the house.
They huddled together for warmth, growing colder and wetter by the minute as the eaves above offered no protection at all. Under normal circumstances the chill would have ensured their flaccidity, but perversely, Fred and George’s members defied expectations, growing harder and longer. The twins both groaned when they saw how huge their penises were.
“Bloody Fuck!” George swore.
“The Engorgio Charms!” Fred muttered. “It probably will be bloody!”
“Well this is just brilliant!” George sarcastically snapped. “Another fine mess you’ve got us into!”
“Me?”
“Yes—you! This is all your fault! First it was, ‘oh come on, George, we’re just feeding them,’ then it was, ‘oh that looks like fun,’ when you saw the older blokes shagging the Receptacles, and then it was, ‘Let’s make ourselves bigger,’ and then later, ‘I wonder what else we can stick in there,’ and then, ‘I wonder what else we can make them eat,’ and then you said, ‘let’s make them scream,’ and then…”
“Yeah, okay! Shut up!” Fred retorted angrily. “You’ve made your point!”
The twins sat there miserably for hours as the rain grew heavier and icier and the sky grew darker. With winter drawing nearer, even in the West Country night fell earlier. The pair of boys spent several more hours freezing their arses off as water streamed from their saturated hair and flowed down their chests, across their flinching abdomens, and between their muddied, naked thighs.
Their erections were as stiff as ever, and even worse, they began to feel certain urges.
Even over the roar of the rain, George could hear Fred’s stomach grumbling—or was that his own?
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” George muttered as the hunger grew. He was sure that the Compulsion Collars were stimulating their appetites to ensure that they ate their dinner.
“Fight it!” said Fred, who feeling the exact same urge. “Come on George! We can beat this! We’re men! Fight it!”
“I’m trying, damn it!” George snapped. “I’m bloody trying!”
Another hour passed by that way and it was Fred who broke first. The collar finally forced him to his hands and knees and he crawled through the mud between George’s legs.
“Oh God! Oh God!” he moaned as his face drew nearer to George’s twelve inch cock.
Fred could feel the heat on his cheeks which was radiating from the bulbous, swollen knob now hovering before his lips.
No matter what he did, he couldn’t keep them closed—they parted widely and, “Gross, gross,” escaped his throat before his lips wrapped themselves around George’s hard, throbbing shaft.
It was bad enough having a guy’s dick in his mouth, and even worse that it was his brother’s, but did it have to taste so nasty on top of it all?
Fred began to hungrily suck the fleshy knob filling his mouth, hoping the sperm didn’t taste as revolting as he thought it was going to. Then he felt hands roughly grasping his head, painfully gripping his hair, savagely shoving his head down.
What the hell?
“Sorry! I’m sorry Fred!” George moaned. “I can’t help it. This is how we always feed the Receptacles.”
Fuck! Of course they did, was Fred’s last thought as he gagged and resigned himself to George’s cock barreling into his throat.
George brutally fucked Fred’s face for a good ten minutes, burying his full rod in his throat, and pressing his ginger short and curlies against Fred’s nose and lips with every thrust.
Fred felt dizzy and faint, his throat burning and raw; he didn’t know how much more he could take. When George shoved Fred’s face into his crotch and held it in place, the full length of his penis in his throat, Fred knew it was about to happen.
Sure enough George’s cock twitched and pulsed, jets of his boiling semen spurting into Fred’s stomach. After several minutes George slid Fred’s head up his shaft, and then spent another few minutes squirting sperm into his brother’s mouth.
Fred gulped it down ravenously, desperate for every last drop to fill his aching belly. Finally, as Fred began to feel sated, George yanked Fred’s head back and released his cock from Fred’s mouth.
Fred knew what was coming next and quickly shut his eyes. Sure enough, he felt his brother’s spunk splattering against his forehead, eyelids, and cheeks. In that moment, Fred was thankful for the rain. At least it would wash away most of George’s cum dripping from his face.
George panted as he blasted the last few ribbons of semen across the bridge of his brother’s nose.
George hated himself for loving every minute of!
He hated even more the fact that Fred was about to do exactly the same to him…
~o0o~
After a fun afternoon throwing snowballs at the Receptacles while the snowmen and ice-sculptures raped them, Draco was famished. At first, he barely noticed the Ravenclaw girls who were giggling in the courtyard as he passed them on the way to the doors of the castle. He wouldn’t have spotted them at all but Professor McGonagall was admonishing them for dawdling. They all stared back at him and giggled some more.
A short time later, while he and Crabbe and Goyle feasted on pork chops, steaks, roast potatoes, and dumplings, Draco felt another hunger that still needed to be filled. It had been days since he been able to personally shove his cock down a Receptacle’s throat to feed it.
“Oi,” he whispered to Crabbe and Goyle, “You two up for a visit to the Receptacles later on tonight after curfew. We won’t get caught—Father gave me an invisibility cloak for my birthday this year.”
“Yeah,” said Goyle eagerly. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” said Crabbe. “But how’re gonna get close to ‘em.”
“Leave that to me,” said Draco smugly. “I have a pass to the restricted section in the library. There are some good books in there which will have some spells that should work,” Draco wasn’t exactly sure how he knew, but he was absolutely certain. “I’ll get them after dinner…”
AN:
@ ClaireR89: Sorry for the long wait! ... The Muse has been taking a vacation, and she's taking her sweet time getting back to work.
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts