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Engineering Doll Making	By : Dragon_Ruler_06 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 51048 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes and not made for profit.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Oh, Dumbles, Dumbles, Dumbles… What have you wrought upon yourself this time? I suppose we will just have to find out now, won’t we? This will be fun.
Never really liked the old guy from the moment he put a baby on a doorstep in the cold with only a little blanket. Seriously, he left someone next door to watch him, so he should have known about the abuse. Did nothing!
Anyway, sweet justice coming.
Warnings are the same usual things.
Here the Chapter Starts
The portraits snoozed away the night. Fawkes barely twitched when a dark blue dust was blown at him, digging him into a deeper slumber. The Doll Maker tiptoed her way to Dumbledore’s chambers, anticipation in every quiet step. The Engineer stayed ahead of her, paying attention to every sound around him. They reached his door without setting a single thing off.
"So over confident," his Doll Maker whispered. "Believes no one would ever target him that he doesn’t set traps in his own office or quarters."
"Well, we’ll just have to show him, then," the Engineer replied lowly. "Won’t we?"
Holding back a squeal of excitement, she bounced on her toes as he reached for the door. It opened silently, revealing the bedroom. Dumbledore snored away in his bed, the covered pulled up to his bearded chin, his white hair and beard blended into the splayed mass surrounding him, despite the ties.
"Remember," the Engineer whispered softly. "He can do non-verbal and wandless." They already had a plan to render him helpless. After all, even wandless, hands are still needed to channel. And he had his special wires for the old coot.
The Doll Maker nodded, walking to one side of the bed as the Engineer took the other. She climbed on top of the bed, the mattress barely moving at her movements. Looking to her lover to see him nod, she raise her hand then struck Dumbledore’s face.
The elderly headmaster snapped awake at the hit, then noticed the unfamiliar girl sitting on his chest. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked harshly, trying to push her off of him. As soon as his hands were visible, the Engineer released the wires on his hands to wrap around Dumbledore’s then pulling his bound hands to the headboard. The ends of the wires tied themselves tightly around the wooden posts, rendering Dumbledore defenseless. A faint white glow enveloped them, signaling that their job is done, cutting the elderly Headmaster’s magic off.
"That was very disappointing," the Engineer commented, stepping forward as the Doll Maker pulled nails from her gloves. "I was expecting more from such a powerful wizard."
"Who are you?" the old man asked. "I demand you tell me your names!"
"I am the Engineer," he answered with a mock bow before holding a hand out to the girl on Dumbledore’s chest. "This is my dear Doll Maker."
"Tell me who you truly are! Show me your faces!"
The Engineer shook his head. "That I can’t do," he pointed out. "Ruins the whole point of our names if you know who we are. See? Now… Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are to be punished for your crimes by our hands."
"What crimes?" Dumbledore demanded. "I have done nothing wrong! Do you even truly know who I am?!"
"A manipulative old man who says everything he does, every move he makes his pawns do, is all for the greater good," the Engineer sarcastically chuckled at the end. "Does having sex with your students count as ‘the greater good’? No? I thought not. Do you have any idea how many lives you have ruined with your manipulations? No again? What a shock. Doll Maker, if you would."
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she started listing off, pressing one nail to Dumbledore’s collar. "An orphan in a neglectful orphanage full of kids that tormented him and staff that feared him to the point of ignoring him. Despite him begging to be taken out of that orphanage, preferring to live at Hogwarts, he was forced back every summer." The nail was shoved into him, scraping his bone. Dumbledore let out a pained gasp, but not much else.
She held another nail to the opposite end of his collarbone, "Sirius Black, a grieving friend only looking for revenge, no trial by your suggestion, thus he spends twelve years in Azkaban unjustified." The second nail entered him, his gasp louder, pain lacing the sound.
The third nail was pressed against his left wrist. She noticed his fingers trying to move, but the glowing wires wrapped around them tightly to render them motionless. "Harry James Potter, left in an abusive household throughout his childhood. Ignored when trying to tell others of his abused childhood. Thrown into deadly confrontations year after year." The nail sunk in deep, pinning his wrist to the wooden headboard. Dumbledore shouted.
She twirled the fourth nail between her fingers. "Not to mention all the students you call up to your office to have sex with, threatening to expel them from school with fabricated stories of them practicing Dark Arts or trying to join Voldemort should they refuse. I believe the Creevey brothers were just in here a couple hours or so ago." In a blink of an eye, that nail was soon pinning his right wrist to the wood.
"You make up terrible lies!" Dumbledore spat at her, ignoring the blood pouring from his wrists and collarbone.
She sighed dejectedly, pulling her cheek onto her palm. "Engineer, what ever shall we do with him? He won’t confess."
"Then we’ll simply make him," the Engineer answered, removing a blade from his belt. "So where shall we start, my love?"
"I was thinking," she muttered, pulling down the blanket before grabbing a hold of the headmaster’s beard. "Maybe here?" Taking the held out blade, she pressed the sharp edge to his chin. With a smirk, she asked, "How does it feel to be so powerless?" The blade cut through the skin as she pulled on the hair, tearing his bloodstained beard off. Dumbledore yelled as his skin was cut and torn from his chin, warm blood pouring into his hair, beard, and onto his neck.
Satisfied, she held the knife out to the Engineer, who took it by the blade as he stepped closer to the bed. "I think we should cut that lying tongue out of your mouth next," he growled, snapping his fingers. The Doll Maker grabbed the skinned chin, making the elderly man yell in pain as the Engineer stuck his fingers into Dumbledore’s mouth. Pinching his tongue, he pulled it past protesting lips. "No more manipulating lies, old man." He quickly sliced through the tongue, blood spitting out of the appendage’s stump.
Spitting out blood with every cough, Dumbledore turned his head to the side to avoid choking on it. His fingers tried to move from the wire binding them, but all he succeeded in doing was cutting his digits on the wire.
"My turn!" the Doll Maker chirped, taking the knife again as she slid from the headmaster’s chest and onto his legs to keep him from struggling. "Hmm, maybe…yes, that’ll do!" As she started tearing the old man’s nightshirt open, the Engineer went to the foot of the bed, grabbing the legs that tried to bend enough to push his lover off. He grabbed the ankles then pulled them down, spreading them as wide as he could before focusing his magic into a spool of wire in his vest pocket to bind the ankles to the posts. Humming an unfamiliar tune, the Doll Maker dug the blade tip into the saggy skin, trailing down the panting chest to the heaving stomach, then leaving horizontal lines at each end. "Let’s see if you do have a heart."
Both took great pleasure in Dumbledore’s pain as she peeled his skin back. Both enjoyed watching his blood flow and spill onto his bed. Each took their turn torturing him in some way. The Doll Maker skinned his chest. The Engineer broke the ribs and tore them out. Seeing the beating heart, the Doll Maker decided to save it for last. If their punishment didn’t kill him before they were done, then the Engineer would surely enjoy ripping that heart out himself.
His stomach was cut open, acid pouring throughout his abdomen. ‘Pedophile’ was carved into his arms and legs. After being completely stripped, his penis was skinned then cut in half down the center. Each turn they took, another pained yell escaped the elderly Headmaster. His heart beating slower, his lungs filling with blood.
"Leave nothing to show it was us," the Engineer ordered. With a nod, the Doll Maker jumped off the bed scouring the room to make sure there was nothing that would link this to them. Looking down into Dumbledore’s dying eyes, the Engineer smirked. "I always hated how your fucking eyes were always twinkling," he told him, holding his knife to the orbs. "How often were you reading my mind and trying to find a way to get to me? Hm? How often did you read my mind and see everything I suffered? You…heh, you just never learn. Two children you left in terrible homes, wanting to mold them to be something that would make you great again. Guess what? It’s your fault we are the monsters we are. All for your fucking greater good!" He carved into the face, the edge of the knife scraping the socket as he removed the first eye.
"We’re clean," the Doll Maker commented as the Engineer dug out the other eye. "Feel better?"
Straightening up and letting out a loud sigh, he nodded. "Years of anger building inside of me just spilled out into this." He waved his hand over the mutilated headmaster dying on his bed, if not dead already. With a wave of his hand, the binding wire left the torn and bloody ankles and wrists, wrapping loosely around his hands once again. "I do feel better, but we’re not done, my love. There are still plenty out there for us to get rid of."
Next Morning – Gryffindor Tower
The news was given that very morning at breakfast. McGonagall’s voice shook as she informed the students of the Headmaster’s death. She gave no details, only informed that the Ministry is looking into the horrendous murder and will capture the culprit before more people were hurt. Many students cried, but Harry and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder how many were tears of relief. Ron and Ginny went pale, looking at each other with fear in their eyes.
Just to keep appearances, the secret couple stayed with the other students, paying their ‘respects’ in silence. The new Headmaster, or Headmistress in this case, was Minerva McGonagall. No Deputy Headmaster/mistress was named yet until it was finalized that McGonagall would be Headmistress officially. For now, it was simply school policy.
Classes were cancelled for the day, leaving everyone to wander around aimlessly or sit wherever they pleased. He was currently in his dorm, listening to the other boys theorize who did it, what they did, and why. Having enough, Harry rose to his feet. "I need to be left alone," he stated at their questioning gazes. Ron watched him leave with a narrow gaze, but Harry knew with the others there, he couldn’t follow him without raising suspicion. That was fine with him.
He entered the Common Room, seeing the Creevey brothers sitting on the couch, whispering to each other. Colin looked up and saw him first. "Harry!" he called.
"Hey, Colin, Dennis," he greeted in return with a nod of his head. He noticed Colin and Dennis share nervous looks. "Something wrong, guys? Besides the obvious, of course."
Using his hand to motion Harry closer, he leaned towards the older teen as Harry approached them. "Can we tell you something?" he whispered. Harry nodded in response, already guessing what they were about to say. "I feel terrible for thinking this, but I’m glad he’s dead."
"Why?" Harry asked, knowing the answer but getting Colin to say it may help him and his younger brother move past it.
Colin shifted, sharing another glance with his brother before sighing heavily. "He would call us to his office," he answered. "The first time, it was just me in my second year, before Dennis came here. He…made me touch him. He said that he had enough pull in the Ministry and with the public that if I didn’t do what he said, he could make me seem like I was Dark. The same with Dennis when he was called in. He put his… thing in us. We would get called in every other week. He wouldn’t stop or leave us alone!"
Seeing the boys start to cry, Harry put his hand on their shoulders reassuringly. "You’re not the only ones he did it to," he told them lowly. "Personally, I think he got what he deserved. And you should feel no shame in finding relief that your rapist is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore." Giving both brothers a pat, Harry rose then left the room.
He passed many students as he trekked through the halls, some looking as though they were lost, others hiding their relief, while some actually had the courage to smile. Harry couldn’t help his own smirk. Blaise Zabini, school rapist/ sex fanatic, castrated. Teach him to touch his lover. Perhaps Zabini will change his views for now on, maybe commit to something good. He’s young, he’ll manage.
Ginny Weasley, school slut and personal stalker, no longer able to chase after him. His Doll Maker is so possessive. Her image will be ruined, and her family shamed. Too bad, he liked four of her brothers. It may not affect them, or so he hoped.
Albus Dumbledore, local pedophile and master manipulator, properly punished for years of going on doing whoever or whatever he wanted simply because he thought himself unstoppable. No one would dare to defy him. He had the backing of the Wizarding World no matter his action. Now he is dead. And soon, his secrets shall be revealed. Rita will have plenty of fun ruining the man’s image now that he died and is most definitely unable to stop her.
He stopped at a simple looking door. Rapping his knuckled on it in a certain pattern, the door opened. While they did celebrate last night, such a huge success deserves more than a night. Quickly stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his eyes took in the many candles around the room, forming a path that lead to the bed. She had to have help with this one.
On the bed laid Hermione, wearing nothing but a see-through silver nightshirt that barely passed her bare buttocks. Her legs kicked in the air as she read through a tome. She knows he’s here, though. How could she not? Harry removed his clothing as he approached the bed until only his pants remained. He climbed onto the bed until her thighs were between his knees and his chest against her back.
She hummed a greeting as he nipped between her shoulder blades, his hands slipping under her nightshirt and pushing it up. "We did good last night, didn’t we?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to him as her book closed.
"Very," he told her, his hands slipping underneath her. The nightshirt only made it to her upper back, but his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them firmly.
She moaned, leaning her head back which caused her chest to rise a bit. The nightshirt slid back down, covering to her mid back. The fabric was thin and he could barely feel it brushing the back of his hands as he massaged her mounds.
His lips found their way to her shoulder, kissing the soft skin there before trailing to her jawline. "The Creevey brothers may end up moving on, in time," he informed her. "They told me what that old pervert did to them."
"Good," Hermione panted as one hand trailed from her breast to between her legs. A finger rubbed against her, slipping into her folds. "Others will, too…eventually."
He chuckled lightly, taking her earlobe between his teeth. "I admit, it was very hard for me not to fuck you when you skinned his raping, pedophilic dick," he commented, his teeth releasing her ear before his tongue ran along it.
She giggled, looking at him with lust-fill half-lidded eyes. "I wanted to suck you off every time you made him scream," she admitted, one of her hands reaching behind her to tangle into Harry’s dark hair. "Especially when you tore out his ribs." She gasped as the finger slid into her, soon followed by another.
"Lean forward," he ordered her.
She obeyed when the hand on her mound left its position. She held herself up on her hands and knees, legs spread as his arms looped round her waist, his fingers wriggling into her. He rubbed his groin against her, still tucked away behind his pants, but she could feel the organ straining against the clothing as he ground into her. His fingers left her entrance then trailed around her waist, leaving a path of her wetness behind. His hands retreated from her to unzip himself. He tugged his pants down until his member sprung up, pre-cum leaking from the swollen head.
Using his knees, Harry spread her legs wider while he pulled her closer to him. His cock was squeezed between his taut stomach and her round rump, causing him to hiss slightly as she wiggled her hips against him. He slapped her right cheek, earning a gasp from his lover. An angry red mark started to form on her pale skin as she rubbed her buttocks up and down his hardness. He slapped her again, smirking when she let out a squeak.
Grabbing her hips in one hand, he pushed her away enough for him to take hold of himself, pressing his tip against her slick hole. Pulling her back until his tip was inside, he let go of his shaft, placing his empty hand on the other side of her hips. He pushed into her while pulling her back onto him. She moaned and gasped at his entrance until he was fully sheathed to his base.
He slid out easily, leaving his tip inside before shoving back into her. She lurched forward at the force of his thrust, but was pulled back as he exited only to be pushed forward again. His thrusts were hard, but his pace wasn’t fast. Her breasts swung back and forth in the air under her, but his hands ignored them, instead pulling her back onto him every time she went forward.
His pace started getting faster, his eyes watching their connection, how easily he entered her willing body. It amazed him sometimes that while her body accepted him so readily, she was still tight around him.
"Oh, Harry," she started moaning out loud. "You feel so good. So big!" Her head dropped down, her hair spilling around her head. She gasped and moaned, her gaze locked on the hanging sack that kept slapping against her. "I can see your balls," she commented. "They’re so full! As big as your cock! Empty them in me! Pour every bit of your essence into my womb!"
"So impatient," he groaned, his speed picking up. His legs opened more, thus pushing her to open more to him. His arms soon wrapped around her waist, linking on her abdomen.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Fuck me like a bitch! I’m your bitch, so fuck me like it!"
He groaned loudly, his thrusting becoming uneven and his angles random. She squeezed him as she started moving her hips into him. "You are my bitch," he growled at her. "And only mine!"
"Only yours!" she cried to him. "Only your cock! Only your cum! Oh, fill my empty belly with your cock juice! Spill your man cream into me! Knock me up! Ah, fuck! I want every drop from your huge balls in my womb! Every fucking drop!"
"Oh, fuck, ‘Mione!" he yelled, his rhythm lost as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Harry! Oh, fuck me, Harry! Fuck me hard! Fill me up!" She let out a small scream. "I can’t last much longer!"
"Cum for me, ‘Mione," he grunted as he felt his muscles tighten, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "Cum only for me!"
She endured two more thrusts before yelling out, her slick walls pressing down on him, surrounding him. He pushed into the tighter passage a few more times before finally reaching his peak, his cock releasing a stream of his semen into her waiting womb. He lazily thrust into her a couple more times, letting her milk him dry.
"It’s so warm," she panted, feeling his fluid fill her. "I love the feel of it."
"I’m sure you do," he stated, leaning down enough to kiss her neck. Her arms gave under her, her upper torso dropping to the bed since Harry was still holding her hips up.
She hummed contently as his hands moved from her hips to rub her back. "Who do you plan on targeting next?" she asked lowly.
"I was thinking of sending something new to Voldemort," he answered. "We still need to finish Dolly Molly, but we also need to keep Voldemort on his toes, let him know that we haven’t forgotten about him."
A huff escaped her. "Another doll?" she asked.
With a smirk, he nodded. "Make it look like you, my Doll Maker," he told her. "He should know that the Engineer doesn’t work alone."
"Very well," she sighed as he removed himself from her body. Her lower body slowly descended to the bed before she rolled over onto her back. He lowered himself until he was laying nearly on top of her, supporting himself up by his elbows with his waist between her thighs. "We need to kill off more Death Eaters, too."
"Agreed." Harry stared off into thought for a moment before smiling. "I think I need to make him a better doll trap. And we need surveillance."
"I’ll work on it tonight," Hermione promised, kissing him lightly. "As for surveillance, Lizzie could-"
"Continue to spy on the Order," he firmly informed. "Despite Dumbledore’s ‘untimely’ death, the Order still exists and there will still be meetings."
"Understood."
Here the Chapter Ends
I don’t know how else to continue this chapter. So ending it here. Now I know I’m gonna hear a lot about how easy it was for them to kill Dumbledore, and I tried to throw in an explanation in that scene. Even wandless and nonverbal need something to channel, like the hands, in my opinion. Render the hands motionless, no magic.
Anyway, review please! ^^
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Engineering Doll Making