Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Mudbloods at Hogwarts	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 288609 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
AN: This chapter contains a small mention of very minor scat. It's not going to feature prominently in this story, so I reckoned it just deserved a tag on this chapter.

Resistance

Hermione had been right. By the time that breakfast had begun, after lying still for nearly an hour, Harriet felt much better; her body had adjusted to the rapid growth of the Burrowing Carrots inside her, and she could move around again without discomfort... well, with no more discomfort than that which was caused by their presence and being shackled, anyway.
Harriet and Hermione managed to get through breakfast without incident, milking students at the Hufflepuff table and the Ravenclaw table respectively. Though, there were a couple of surprising encounters. Harriet had just concluded sucking off Ernie MacMillan; she crawled between the legs of the next guy, Justin Finch-Fletchley and peered up at him waiting for him to unzip his fly.
Justin returned Harriet’s gaze, a troubled look in his eyes, and swallowed uncomfortably.
“Erm...?” said Harriet questioningly, raising her eyebrows.
“I... I can’t,” he murmured. “I can’t do it...”
“Oh!” Harriet felt perplexed. Justin was the first guy not to take advantage of her situation.
“I’m a muggleborn,” he whispered. “I could’ve been where you are right now... I still might be one day if I mess up and get put on a list, or a Pureblood offers the Ministry enough money to buy me outright.”
“Oh!” said Harriet again. “Well, er... thanks? I guess?”
Harriet and Justin shared another awkward look, then she shuffled along to the next pair of legs belonging to an older Hufflepuff. He had that posh, well preened sort of look about him, suggesting that he was probably a pureblood of means, but there was an earnestness in his eyes, and something else - sympathy perhaps?
Nonetheless, the the Hufflepuff unzipped himself, releasing a seven inch boner from his trousers. Harriet sighed and leaned forward, opening her mouth.
“Sorry about this, Potter!” the boy muttered, his face turning red as Harriet began to suck his knob.
Harriet was bewildered, if the Hufflepuff was sorry, why was he still making her do this? Then she felt his hands on her head, not grabbing her and violently shoving her face into his crotch as most of the guys seemed to love doing, but gently stroking her hair, caressing her cheek with his fingers. Harriet suddenly understood; the older Hufflepuff wasn’t merely lustfully turned on by the idea of raping her, he was actually attracted to her.
There was no way that Harriet would ever like guys in that way, no matter how long she was a girl and forced to have sex with them - every cock she sucked seemed as vile as the last - besides, she liked Hermione - but she couldn’t help feeling weirdly appreciated anyway.
Finally the Hufflepuff groaned and his penis twitched, erupting in her mouth. Harriet swallowed his semen, wiped her lips and started to crawl towards the next pair of legs when she felt his hand on her bare shoulder. She turned and looked up at him again, puzzled.
“Er... I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory,” the Hufflepuff mumbled. He looked like he wanted to say something more then he turned beet-red and returned to eating his breakfast.
Hermione was also having an “interesting” morning at the Ravenclaw table. After Roger Davies had aggressively assaulted Hermione’s throat with his cock and sprayed half his load across her face and hair after shooting the first half down her gullet, Padma Patil punched him hard in the ribs, twice.
“Ow! What was that for?”
Padma glared at him. “For being a horrible pillock, you disgusting prat! It’s bad enough that Hermione has to suck you off, but you don’t have to be so violent about it.”
“Why do you care, Patil? She’s just a Mu... OW! ... Stop hitting me!”
“Not until you apologise to Hermione!” Padma snapped; then she glared at all of the boys around the Ravenclaw table. “I know better than to expect you lot not to enjoy getting your knobs polished, but you shouldn’t be so mean about it. I swear, if any of you treat Hermione, or Harriet for that matter, like that again...”
“Or you’ll do what exactly?” sneered a boy who looked like he was in third or fourth year. “You’re just a Firsty!”
“Or you’ll have to answer to me, Turner - all of you will,” said a fifth year girl coldly. “And I’m a prefect!”

“Er...” Marcus Turner was slightly taken aback, “Come on Clearwater, don’t be a spoilsport! She’s just a Receptacle... That’s what they’re for!”
“Granger’s a human being - she’s a girl!” snapped a second year girl with long black hair. “Padma and Penelope are right! If you simply must get your willies sucked, at least try and be as nice as possible about it!”
“I... I agree with Cho,” a curly haired girl sitting next to the black haired girl suddenly chimed in, looking a bit scared.

“Oh, thank you Marietta,” said Cho, beaming. “You didn’t have to - I know your mum works for the Ministry...”
“Y...yeah, but I don’t think she’d mind, the more I think about it,” said Marietta, sounding a bit more sure of herself with every word. “I mean - it’s not like we’re trying to disobey the rules, right? We’re just telling the boys to take it easy.”
Hermione was floored as she heard, “Hear, hear,” and murmurs of support from more and more girls around the table.
“Hear that?” said Penelope Clearwater smugly to all the boys at the Ravenclaw table. “We might not be able to stop you from using Granger or Potter to get your dicks wet, but if we don’t like the way you go about it... well... we’ll make sure you boys regret it - right girls?”
A girlish chorus of, “Right!” rose from the Ravenclaw table as the girls all grinned at each other and the boys gulped nervously and peered anxiously at each other.
Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes, hardly daring to believe that all the Ravenclaw girls had stuck up for her.
“Th...thank you,” she said quietly up at Padma from under the table. “Thank all of you.”
“Thank Parvati,” Padma whispered. “I promised her I’d help if I could.”
Hermione nodded and attempted a smile through her tears before moving on to the next pair of legs. Anthony Goldstein almost looked terrified after the warnings of the Ravenclaw girls; his hands were shaking as he unzipped his trousers. Indeed, all of the Ravenclaw lads were quite subdued, and nary a one touched a hair on Hermione’s head, simply allowing her to suck them off at her own pace and depth.
“Well, that was weird...” Harriet told Hermione after breakfast, once Hagrid had chained them both back up in their cage.
“You too?” said Hermione.
“Huh? ... What happened to you then?”
“After Roger Davies got a bit too rough with me, all the girls at the Ravenclaw table told the boys to back off,” Hermione explained. “It was amazing - the guys were almost too frightened to put their penises in my mouth after that.”
Harriet grinned. “That’s brilliant Hermione! ... It wasn’t as amazing as that at the Hufflepuff table - most of the blokes were just as horrible as everyone else...” A few bruises and scattershot gobs of semen all over Harriet’s face and hair were testament to that.
“...But one of the muggleborn guys wouldn’t even touch me,” she continued. “That was a bit odd, because so far loads of muggleborns have been some of the worst - trying to prove to the purebloods that they’re at least better than us I guess. ... But that wasn’t even the weirdest bit. ... That Cedric Diggory bloke - I think he’s sweet on me. He still made me bob his knob, but he was a real softy about it - almost looked like he wanted to kiss me...”
“Oh!” Hermione seemed a lot less amused about it than Harriet had thought she would be. “So, er... would you...?” Hermione trailed off, reddening.
“Ew! ... No!” Harriet screwed up her face in disgust; Hermione’s features brightened right up. “Not unless he forced me to,” Harriet went on, “and I don’t really think he would, for all he liked me sucking his willy. I just thought it was a bit funny.”
“Hmm,” Hermione mused, “Maybe we could use that though. Do you think he likes you enough that he’d want to help you? Or that he likes you too much and would try to stop you from escaping?”
“Oh! Er... I’m not sure really,” said Harriet. “Could go either way I suppose.”
“Then we’ll have to be careful not to let anything slip around him,” Hermione sighed. “Still...”
They both faded into silence for a bit, watching as the Great Hall cleared out. And just like Saturday morning, it appeared that students weren’t inclined to hang out in the Hall - apparently they usually didn’t start congregating in the Hall until after lunch on the weekends.
Harriet and Hermione were pleased to see that Parvati and Lavender remained true to their word, cautiously approaching after everyone else had departed.
“Thank you for talking to Padma,” Hermione said to Parvati as she began reaching into her pockets for the bits of breakfast she had managed to save. “That really means a lot to me.”
“Anything we can do to help. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to convince most of the Gryffindor boys,” Parvati whispered as she poked bits of toast into Hermione’s mouth. “Lavender and I didn’t get enough support from the other girls. ... Anyway, we’ve been trying to work out how to get you out of here, but it’s a bit difficult as we barely know any magic, and we’re not sure that we can trust any of the older students to help you escape.”
“We’ve been thinking about that actually,” said Hermione after swallowing the toast. “Harriet and I have come up with a rough outline of a plan...”
Hermione and Harriet filled Parvati and Lavender with what they had come up with so far, in between eating bits of bacon and egg and thirstily gulping down orange juice from recycled Butterbeer bottles. They were both extremely pleased that Parvati and Lavender were more than eager to assist in learning magic and stealing wands when the time was right, and felt very hopeful by the time the two Gryffindor girls had departed.
Hermione felt even better when the two magical dildos which had essentially been fucking her the last two days straight finally slid out of her pussy and her rear entrance shortly before ten o’clock. She peered at Harriet apologetically, feeling guilty about feeling relieved while Harriet would be forced to endure the plundering of her own lower openings by two growing root-vegetables for up to a week, and then the gestation of the impregnated saplings for several weeks after.
“It’s alright,” Harriet reassured Hermione, “I’m just happy those things aren’t raping you anymore.” Which was very true, but Harriet couldn’t help feeling guilty for also feeling a bit jealous of Hermione...
The rest of Sunday proceeded much as Saturday had, alternately sitting and standing throughout the day, trying to stave off boredom by telling each other more about their home lives, then being forced to humiliate themselves again by drinking their own pee from the bucket in front of the entire assembled student body at the beginning of dinner, and then the usual round of cock-sucking.
The biggest problem for Hermione, now that her rectum was no longer being obstructed, was the growing pressure in her abdomen. She managed to hold it all through dinner and beyond.
“Nnngh,” Hermione groaned, squirming uncomfortably as nine p.m. approached. Harriet eyed her sympathetically, understanding Hermione’s quandary.
“What should I do Harriet?” Hermione moaned. “If I poop on the floor, I’ll probably be punished, and if I poop in the bucket, they’re just gross enough to still make us drink the pee - or worse...”
Hermione left the “worse” unsaid, as both of them were terrified that they might be forced to consume their own feces. Finally Harriet considered the only other option available to them, though that was just as risky.
“We should probably call Midge,” Harriet sighed. “Hopefully he’ll have a suggestion which doesn’t involve, er... you know...”
“Alright,” said Hermione, feeling desperate now.
Midge arrived within seconds of being called, and Harriet warily informed him of Hermione’s conundrum.
“Oh, that is being no problem Harry Potter sir,” the cheerful house-elf beamed. “Midge will be right back.”
A minute later, Midge returned, holding what appeared to be an enormous, heavy looking cat litter-box filled with sand. He grunted as he hefted the litter box and set it next to the tin pail.
“You is pooping in there, Missy Granger, and house-elves will be emptying once a day.” said Midge. “But you must be careful not to pee in litter-box, as you must save for drinking.”
“Thank you Midge,” Hermione sighed, thinking it was much better than the horrible alternatives.
She waited for the house-elf to leave. “Erm...” she said after a minute, “can I have a bit of privacy, please.”
“Oh, sorry, but Receptacles is only being allowed privacy at discretion of headmaster,” said Midge. “And he is insisting that Midge is watching first pooping to be making sure Receptacles is housebroken. He is also insisting that at least one pooping a day is being taken during daylight hours, for viewing by others.”
“Of course he is,” growled Harriet, rolling her eyes. “Anything he can do to make us feel worse about ourselves.”
Hermione sighed again and shuffled over to the large kitty-litter-box. It was even more difficult to manoeuvre into place as there was even less room to safely traverse the cage now. She bit her lip, her face blazing hotly as she crouched over the box. It was difficult to make her sphincter relax with the house-elf watching her, but at least Harriet had her eyes tightly shut.
Finally her sphincter unclenched, and several long brown turds emerged from her anus and plopped into the litter-box. Hermione felt a flood of relief in her belly, only to be supplanted with another worry. She was almost afraid to ask.
“Er... how am I supposed to clean myself?” Hermione tentatively inquired.
As she had been afraid of, Midge’s bulbous eyes flickered towards Harriet. But this time the house-elf truly looked apologetic.
“Harry Potter and Hermione Granger is to be cleaning each other...” Midge squeaked, “With tongue!” he added, shuddering.
“Right! Of course we are!” Hermione muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
This time Midge didn’t wait around to watch; he vanished quickly, no doubt as repulsed as Hermione and Harriet would be to actually carry out the task. Heaving a sigh, Hermione glumly returned to her usual spot, unable to look Harriet in the eye or ask her to perform the disgusting act.
“Lie down Hermione,” said Harriet quietly and bravely. “I’ve got this.”
“Al...alright then.” Hermione blushed furiously as she lay back against the cold marble floor and drew back her knees to ease Harriet’s access. She knew now how embarrassed Harriet had felt to pee into Hermione’s mouth that morning.
Harriet crawled between Hermione’s bare legs, and peered at her stained anus. It flinched, involuntarily contracting, almost as if it could feel Harriet’s gaze. But despite her trepidation at executing her mission, she couldn’t help feeling a tingle of arousal at the sight of Hermione’s slightly gapped labia, the wetly glistening interior petals clearly visible.
That somehow eased Harriet’s anxiety; she took a deep breath and leaned over. As her face neared the stretched open cleft between Hermione’s buttocks and inner thighs, Harriet realised that she wouldn’t be able to complete the task without pressing her nose into Hermione’s vulva. She hesitated briefly, then stuck her tongue out and sallied forth.
Harriet tried to ignore the taste as she slathered Hermione’s anal ring with her wet tongue, her nose burrowed in Hermione’s humid folds. Just to be certain that Hermione was thoroughly cleaned, Harriet carried on for several minutes as Hermione squirmed and let out little, “eep!”s at intervals. It took Harriet but a moment to figure out what was going on when the tiny opening of Hermione’s channel - vacated earlier that day - grew wetter and hotter, contracting around the tip of her nose.
Harriet smiled wryly to herself - Hermione was enjoying the sensation of Harriet’s tongue massaging her bunghole and Harriet’s nose rubbing her cunny, and no doubt feeling as guilty as Harriet had that morning. Well, Harriet could hardly deprive Hermione of that nice feeling which came with finishing the job properly, could she?
Harriet trailed her tongue up Hermione’s crack to her vulva, then her tongue delved into Hermione’s sopping channel, her nose pressing against Hermione’s fleshy little button. Hermione let out a little “Oh!” but didn’t tell Harriet to stop.
Feeling emboldened, Harriet wriggled her tongue inside Hermione and rubbed Hermione’s little nubbin with her nose. Hermione quivered, arching her back, and when Hermione’s sheath flexed, tightening around her tongue, Harriet knew that Hermione was close. A gush of nectar flooded Harriet’s lips and tongue as Hermione quaked and moaned. Her task completed, Harriet lifted her dripping chin from between Hermione’s thighs and grinned at her.
“Feeling better?” asked Harriet.
Hermione giggled and blushed, nodding her head. “Much better, Harriet! Thank you! You really didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did.”
“Me too!” said Harriet. “I have to admit, it was loads nicer then sucking willies.”
“I’ll say,” Hermione agreed, giggling again. “But now your face is a mess - maybe I should help you with that!”
Harriet felt that fluttering in her tummy again; her hesitation was brief. Then Harriet wriggled and shuffled, sliding her front up Hermione’s until they were face to face, their bellies and nipples rubbing against each other’s. Harriet gazed into Hermione’s big brown eyes and felt Hermione trembling slightly, her chest heaving rapidly beneath Harriet’s.
Her heart racing a thousand miles a minute, Hermione peered back into Harriet’s iridescent green eyes, which almost seemed to glow in the silvery moonlight from the Enchanted Ceiling. The next moment their lips were entwined, mingled in passion as they both ground their fronts against one another.
This time they both felt it - the blissful surge which swept away their senses - and then they were gasping, panting as the euphoria took them both again. Harriet slumped atop Hermione as they both faded into oblivion.
It was after three thirty when they woke. The Great Hall was much darker as the moon had moved on, but the stars twinkled brightly above them. Harriet wriggled off Hermione.
“Let me,” she said, and Hermione understood what she was asking. After a bit more squirming, Harriet had taken Hermione’s place, and Hermione on top, feeling Harriet’s nipples poking into her back as they both gazed up at the stars and gradually drifted off to sleep again.
And that was how the first wave of students found them when they entered the Great Hall for breakfast several hours later...
~o0o~
Each day of the new week brought fresh indignities and degradation, but Harriet and Hermione grit their teeth and endured, both of them putting every ounce of effort into memorising the spells being taught in Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. They spent their time in the other classes repeating the wand movements and incantations in their heads, as they had little else to do but be props for further humiliation by many of the professors for the amusement of the students.
All they had to look forward to were their nights together, and dreams of escape.
There were a few odd moments for Harriet though, which had nothing to do with their other bebasements. Harriet had noticed Professor Quirrell staring at her more than once before, when she had been a boy, and had chalked it up to his fascination with her, or rather him at the time. But the looks now seemed odder and Harriet chalked it up to the fact that she was naked, and that Quirrell was probably thinking about molesting or raping her as Snape had done to Hermione.
Then, on Wednesday, as was often the case in their other classes, Harriet was called up to the front of the class in Defence Against the Dark Arts by Quirrell, ostensibly to take part in a demonstration of some sort. And as usual, the “demonstration” consisted of Harriet displaying her feminine parts to the class while Professor Quirrell lectured about something seemingly unrelated.
It was bad enough that her scar seemed to itch more around the professor, but Harriet was disturbed when Quirrell took the long wooden pointer and prodded her pussy lips, which were now stretched even wider by the Burrowing Carrots.
“...as y-y-you see here, certain m-magical life-forms may use h-h-human hosts to carry their young to t-t-term,” Quirrell stuttered. “Among these are some v-very Dark c-c-creatures, including J-Japanese Shokushu - a multi-tentacled d-d-demon with a penchant f-f-for impregnating adolescent human f-f-females...”
Quirrell waved his wand at the easel which often held poster sized placards with pictures of the Dark creatures being discussed. A placard appeared which had the image of a ghastly looking creature with numerous tentacles, several of which were raping every orifice of a teenage girl.
Gasps of horror emanated from many of the girls in the class as they averted their eyes, including Hermione. But nearly all of the boys seemed to be entranced by the image.
“N-n-now, don’t look away girls. Th-this is simply an image of a Dark c-c-creature engaging in wh-what for it is a p-perfectly natural act - a key part of its n-natural life-cycle. I have asked the h-headmaster if we c-can procure a Sh-shokushu, so that you can st-st-study its life-cycle from impregnation to b-b-birth, and he has agreed t-t-to do so.
“As P-P-Potter seems to be accustomed to s-s-such demonstrations, she would be a p-p-perfect candidate to be h-h-host once she has completed her current assignment for P-p-professor Sprout.”
Draco Malfoy grinned evilly.
“What?” Harriet shrieked. “You can’t be bloody serious!”
‘V-very serious,” said Quirrell, with a rather sadistic looking smirk on his face. “N-now, Potter, you may return t-to your seat.”

As Harriet slid off Quirrell’s desk, the professor turned around, the back of his turban facing Harriett. Her scar burned with searing sharp pain, as if her forehead was being branded with a hot poker pulled straight from a fire. Harriett clapped her hand to her forehead and groaned, gritting her teeth as she staggered back to her seat next to Hermione.

“I’m so sorry, Harriet,” Hermione fumed in outrage; she appeared to think that Harriet was reacting to the fact that she seemed to be the staff’s favoured Receptacle for impregnation by magical life-forms. “That’s absolutely revolting...”
“It is horrible, but that’s not what’s wrong,” Harriet whispered, as the throbbing pain began to ebb. “It’s my scar - it hurts really badly. I thought it might have been something to do with Snape during the Sorting, but now I know it must have been Quirrell.”
Hermione looked disconcerted; she knew how Harriet had got the scar of course - everyone did. She shivered slightly as she contemplated the most logical reason for Harriet’s pain. But it hardly seemed very likely, because surely Dumbledore would be able to tell that one of his staff had been possessed by Voldemort...

AN:
@ Skepna: I honestly don't know how long this fic will be. But I can tell you, YES, retribution is definitely in the cards... ;-)
@ ClaireR89: No matter how hard I try to write porn one shots, or porn without plot, it never works out that way! Lol! ... :D ... I just can't help myself, and a plot starts to develop of its own accord. I blame it on my Muse! As to what happens when they escape - well, that hasn't been planned yet, but I'm guessing that the wizard world will be in for a real shake-up.
@ Dragonmaster: I don't think that Voldy will be an ally - he's too obsessed with killing Harry/Harriet. This will turn out to be a situation where Harriet will have to deal with the evil on all sides.
As to the other muggleborn/raised--the whole point of choosing two muggleborn first years to be "receptacles" at the beginning of each year is to be examples of their low status to the rest of the muggleborn. So they're too frightened to do anything-and it's not like they know enough magic to do anything anywy, and some will overcompensate to prove their worth by joining in with the other students in molesting the "receptacles."
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Mudbloods at Hogwarts