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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Crime and Punishment

Hermione felt really sorry for Harriet. It was Friday morning, and Harriet was struggling to waddle to Potions; even though the magical properties of the Burrowing Carrots protected their hosts from damage and excessive pain, they did little to protect from the discomfort of trying to walk around with fourteen inch roots - nearly five inches in width at the fat end - embedded at full length in one’s rectum and vagina. Not to mention that Harriet’s womb and lower colon were now very likely crowded with the tiny saplings which would be gestating for several more weeks.
They were the last two through the door of Snape’s dungeon classroom, right behind Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.
“You’re three minutes late,” Professor Snape snapped at Harriet and Hermione.
“What?” Hermione burst out before she could stop herself. “But that’s not fair! We got here the same time as Malfoy...”
“Fairness has nothing to do with it, Receptacle 1025!” Snape responded, his voice dangerously soft. “All that concerns me is your tardiness. ... Now, assume the position, both of you!”
Hermione scowled as she and Harriet made their way to the front of the class and they both stood, legs spread widely apart, hands behind their heads. Her eyes tracked Snape as he strolled out from behind his desk and inspected them both as if he were a drill sergeant looking for tiny flaws in their presentation.
Snape smirked at Harriet’s obvious discomfort. Then, to add insult to injury, he groped Harriet’s little breasts and pinched her nipples, tugging on them painfully. Harriet squirmed, but otherwise remained as silent and still as possible, staring straight ahead, obviously trying not to give Snape the satisfaction of showing her discomfiture.
But Snape seemed determined to get a reaction out of Harriet. He brushed his hand across Harriet’s abdomen, causing it to wince, then slowly slid his hand down the smooth skin of Harriet’s belly to her hairless pubic mound. Snape fondled Harriet’s widely stretched pussy lips for several minutes, but other than some twitches of her jaw and a narrowing of her eyes, Harriet was still admirably restraining herself.
Finally, Snape grasped the leaves of the Burrowing Carrots and gave them a hard yank.
“Aaaaarrggh!” groaned Harriet through gritted teeth, her eyes screwed up with pain.
“Hmm...” Snape’s smirk broadened into a sadistic smile. “Not quite ready to come out just yet, are they - still strongly rooted apparently. That’s a shame, I had rather hoped you would be available...” Snape trailed off leaving Harriet to ponder what he meant.
Then Snape returned to his original topic. “Well, if you’re fortunate, Potter, they will be ready by the time of your appointment with Professor Sprout in Herbology this afternoon.”
Snape shifted his attention to Hermione, leaving Harriet with a stray tear trailing from the corner of one eye.
Hermione flinched when she felt Snape’s hands on her breasts, but she was determined to try and be at least as stoical as Harriet. Snape firmly squeezed her little globes, taking his time as he mauled them with increasing intensity, finally making Hermione squeak with a particularly vicious twist.
Hermione trembled, her lower lip quivering when Snape’s hands released her breasts and slid down the sides of her torso to her hips. As with Harriet, Snape reached between Hermione’s legs and began roughly groping her genitals. Hermione bit her quivering lip when she felt Snape’s fingers slip between the dampening folds of her labia; he mercilessly attacked the sensitive inner-petals, probing and pinching with increasing forcefulness, finally driving two fingers into her narrow passage.
Hermione squealed at the savage intrusion, tears springing to her eyes as Snape leaned in closer; the stink of his hot breath assailing her nostrils as he leered into her face. He pummeled the burning interior of Hermione’s vagina until her chest heaved rapidly as she loudly panted and gasped, her body quaking from fear, shame, and pain.

“You’ll do for now! I think you’re ready... Granger!” Snape hissed as she flooded his fingers.
Hermione flushed; somehow it was even worse that he was calling her by her real name rather than the impersonal sobriquet, Receptacle 1025. It was as if he were deliberately reminding her of everything that she had been - a young girl away from home for the first time who was supposed to be studying and making friends, enjoying her first year at a boarding school.
Snape wrenched his fingers from Hermione’s sopping channel and grabbed her arms, spinning her around and shoving her against his desk. He pressed his hand between her shoulder blades and slammed her face-down, squashing her breasts against the oak surface.
“N...no,” she whimpered, even though she knew it was useless. She had a very good idea what he was intending to do next. “P-p-please... no!”
“This was going to happen eventually anyway, Granger,” Snape sneered, “But your tardiness has afforded me ample reason to make this as punishing as I wish.”
Hermione heard the sound of Snape’s zipper, felt his hands on her inner thighs, parting them wider. Tears streaming now, Hermione was still trying her best not to shriek or scream when she felt his helmet probing the gate of her sex.
Snape grasped Hermione’s slender hips and with one savage thrust, he buried his lance to the hilt inside her tight sheath, battering the entrance to her womb. Then, with one hand gripping a bottom cheek, and his other clutching a fistful of bushy hair, Snape began to pump with the ferocity of an angry beast.
As Snape brutally hammered her cervix with his nine inch cock her slick inner-walls clung tightly to his shaft. Hermione understood now why he had prepared her with the comparably gentle dildo the previous weekend. Snape would have ripped her apart otherwise.
No longer bothering to hold back, Hermione sobbed as Snape continued to plunder her vessel, assaulting her cunt without mercy.
Harriet struggled against the Compulsion Charm on her collar, rage burning in the pit of her stomach with Hermione’s every shriek and every slap of Snape’s belly against Hermione’s arse. There was no doubt about it now - whenever Harriet got the opportunity, she was going to kill Snape first, as painfully as possible.
It seemed to go on and on, but finally, mercifully, Snape halted, buried as deep inside Hermione as he could go. Snape grunted as his cock erupted convulsively, his boiling semen flooding Hermione’s canal. She wept, feeling every twitch and pulse shooting volley after volley inside her.
Finally Snape seemed to have finished; his penis slid out of her, deflating, and he returned it to his trousers after wiping it on her bum. Exhausted and gasping, Hermione remained in position, sticky ribbons of cum oozing from her sore vagina as Malfoy and the Slytherins burst into cheers, a smattering of applause from some of the Gryffindors.
“Don’t be late again, Granger,” said Snape matter-of-factly. “Potter, clean her up - use your tongue and be sure get every last drop inside her, and when you’re finished you can clean the floor.”
Harriet shot Snape a murderous look as he smirked at her. Then she knelt behind Hermione and began licking her out. Harriet’s tongue delved deep into Hermione’s throbbing channel, lapping up Snape’s spunk, slurping and gulping it down as she tried her best not to throw up.
Somehow it was even worse swallowing Snape’s semen, fresh from Hermione’s vagina, than it had been to suck what seemed like hundreds of cocks since the previous Friday. It was worse even than licking Hagrid’s jizz from Hermione’s face and upper torso. It was Snape’s semen - on her tongue - sliding down her throat - into her stomach.
Harriet tried her best to put that all aside and focus on Hermione. She gently and thoroughly cleaned out Hermione’s channel, massaging it with her tongue until it stopped twitching; she licked the delicate petals of her labia, caressing her fleshy nubbin with her appendage until she sensed Hermione relaxing...
Hermione began to calm, the soreness inside her ebbing a bit at Harriet’s loving, almost healing licks, a tingly rush coursing through her veins. Harriet seemed to know just when to stop, before Hermione embarrassed herself even further by having an orgasm in front of everyone.
When Snape directed Hermione to return to submissive pose number one, she gave Harriet a look which was both grateful and sorrowful as Harriet began the even more gruesome task of licking Snape’s semen from the dirty floor of the dungeon classroom...
~o0o~
Harriet took Hermione to the hospital wing during lunch, as they were only required to milk students and staff at breakfast and dinner. Madam Pomfrey examined Hermione, her lips pursed in consternation. Harriet had the strangest feeling that Madam Pomfrey didn’t approve of the way things were in the wizard world. But if she didn’t, she kept it to herself.
Hermione winced when Madam Pomfrey gently applied a healing salve to her innermost regions.
“My apologies Miss Granger,” Pomfrey murmured. She passed Hermione a vial of pain potion, then waved her wand. “Right then, that ought to do it. The salve should heal any abrasions, and the spell should clear up any bruising in short order.” Then she turned on her heel and stalked back to her office, muttering angrily under her breath.
~o0o~
The news of Hermione’s savage rape at Snape’s hands, or rather, his cock, seemed to spread around the school like wildfire. By the time Herbology rolled around, everyone knew, and Hermione couldn’t help feeling a deep flush of shame at all of the whispers and sniggers.
She almost welcomed the cold Scottish wind from the North Sea whipping between her thighs and the raindrops pelting against her burning skin when she stepped outside the front doors of the castle. Hermione’s nakedness was of little concern to her at the moment in comparison to the feeling that Snape’s filth was being washed away by Mother Nature.
Harriet walked hand in hand with Hermione across the soggy lawn, wincing with every step as the Burrowing Carrots shifted inside her, hopefully preparing to depart her orifices.
Lavender and Parvati trailed behind them, as they had to the rest of their lessons together so that Harriet and Hermione wouldn’t be the last to enter the classrooms. They halted in their tracks halfway to the greenhouses.
“Harriet, Hermione,” Parvati called out.
Puzzled, Harriet and Hermione stopped and turned around, both dripping in the near downpour.
“What’s up?” asked Harriet.
“Lavender and I - we just thought you and Hermione might like a moment together,” said Parvati meaningfully. “There’s a few minutes left before class.”
“Oh!” said Hermione, quickly cottoning on. She and Harriet smiled wanly at each other, then both fell into each other’s arms. It felt nice to have a proper chance to hug Harriet as they were nearly always shackled or in and between classes. They held each other for as long as possible, the heat of their embrace keeping the cold at bay.
They fell apart when their few minutes were up, both feeling a bit better by the time they reached the greenhouse.
“Come in, come in...” Professor Sprout beckoned the last four stragglers. “Get in out of the cold and wet you lot.”
For all that Professor Sprout took advantage of Harriet and Hermione’s lowly status, they had to concede that she - like McGonagall and Flitwick - wasn’t as dreadful as she could have been. She might be a bit brusque at times, and she continued to refer to them as Receptacles rather than their given names, but she also on occasion had a relatively friendly demeanor, and today was one of those days.
“Alright then Receptacle 1026, be a dear and on the table with you. Lets see if those nasty roots are ready to vacate the premises.”
“Upsy Daisy!” she added as she helped Harriet clamber onto the table when she saw Harriet having difficulty.
Harriet lay on her back on the table, knees up and thighs spread, giving all a perfect view of her overly distended nether regions. Harriet desperately hoped that it was time, and that she wouldn’t have to endure the discomfort for days yet to come.
“Alright then,” said Sprout as she massaged Harriet’s lower abdomen and tickled her clitoris, “Let’s get you nice and relaxed.”
To Harriet’s surprise, Sprout’s gentle ministrations seemed to be having some beneficial effects. It was a bit painful though as the roughly fourteen inch long Burrowing Carrots wriggled inside her and detached their secondary roots from Harriet’s uterus and colon.
Sprout’s diddling of Harriet’s little pearl grew more vigorous, and after much squirming, slowly the roots began to slither out of her lower openings. The most painful withdrawal was from the carrot lodged in Harriet’s womb. It violently writhed and thrashed around inside her before it managed to propel itself through that tightest of spaces, her cervix. But Harriet’s relief at its expulsion couldn’t be more profound, gasping as it exited her uterus.
Harriet was almost giddy when the last seven inches of the enormous roots gave a final push and slipped out of her in a rush with a flood of her juices while Sprout gave her swollen clit one last rub to ease their passing. Harriet squealed as her back arched, her entire body quivering as her head spun. Lost in a foggy haze, she was barely aware of her convulsing entrances as they gradually contracted and returned to their normal narrowness.
The blissful haze ebbed to be replaced by a wave of embarrassment to have orgasmed in front of an entire class; her face burning with shame, Harriet shakily pushed herself up to a sitting position and slid off the table. She nearly collapsed when her feet hit the floor, her knees were wobbling so badly. But Professor Sprout caught Harriet and rubbed her lower back until her legs regained their strength.
“There, there dear,” said Sprout soothingly. “That was well done indeed! ... A few more weeks and then once more when the saplings expel themselves, and it will all be over.”
And then she would be raped and impregnated again by a vicious multi-tentacled monster, Harriet thought to herself sourly, but at least in the meantime she would be able to get around in relative comfort once the soreness in her vagina and rectum faded. Harriet was pleasantly surprised though when Sprout rustled in her robes and retrieved a large bar of chocolate from one of her pockets.
“Here you go dear - a special treat for your efforts.”
“Really?” Harriet’s jaw dropped in amazement, not quite able to believe that a professor was actually offering a reward for putting up with the abuse. It was hardly adequate compensation for all the suffering she and Hermione had endured, but it exceeded all expectations regardless. She wondered if Professor Dumbledore would approve.
“Yes, really,” Sprout beamed. “And I would say you’ve also earned the rest of the period off as well. You are no longer needed for the rest of this lesson - and you may as well take Receptacle 1025 as well.”
Harriet didn’t need to be told twice. She took the stunned Hermione by her arm and darted out into the rain before Professor Sprout could change her mind. The two nude girls who had barely dried off were quickly drenched again.
The sky was dark as the clouds roiled above, and there was a flash of lightning over the mountains, followed by a roar of thunder which echoed across the Black Lake. Harriet and Hermione peered at each other questioningly as icy rainwater dripped from their hair and rock hard nipples and cascaded down the bare skin of their fronts to pour from their bare slits as if they were taking a cold shower.
“So, a walk then, Hermione?”
“Absolutely!”
The lure of freedom, as illusory as it was, outweighed their need to get out of the storm. Hermione curled an arm around Harriet’s slick waist and they both traipsed down the hill and through the sodden grass to the lake. As they drew closer, the terrain became rougher and muddier when they left the lawn behind. But neither of them cared about the weeds, long grasses, and leaves and twigs under their bare feet.
Reaching the edge of the lake, they carefully walked along the pebbly shoreline, just glad to be as far away from the castle as possible. Finally they came to copse of pines and oaks swaying in the wind and sat on some sodden leaves beneath the dripping trees. It wasn’t much cover, but it protected them from the worst of the storm.
Harriet broke her chocolate bar in half and gave one of the pieces to Hermione. They each curled one arm around the other and huddled together for warmth, munching the chocolate as they watched the curtains of rain sweeping across the rippling surface of the lake.
After a week of consuming mostly nothing but semen - excepting the bits of breakfast Lavender and Parvati had fed them the previous weekend, the chocolate was heavenly. They savoured every bite in bliss, as if each one would be their last - which it very likely would be for the foreseeable future.
Once it was finished, Harriet and Hermione wrapped both arms around one another, huddling even closer. Before they knew it they were kissing and rolling in the leaves, lips entwined for what seemed like an endless moment. But unfortunately it did eventually have to end. The jerking of their leather collars pulled them to their feet, indicating that classes were finished for the day and it was time to return to the castle.
They brushed the leaves and twigs from their wet nude bodies and traipsed sadly back up the hill. But at least they had the memories of that stolen moment together...
~o0o~
It was Filch who was waiting for them both in the Entrance Hall today. Harriet groaned - this was the first time she had come across Filch since she had been turned into a girl, and she and Hermione were naked, not to mention dripping wet.
Somehow Filch’s ugly leer, twisted between lust and anger, was the creepiest she had come across yet, his gaze crawling up and down Harriet and Hermione’s nude figures. It didn’t help that he was holding a large paddle.
“Took your sweet time gettin’ here, didn’tcha?” Filch muttered lecherously, “And yer both drippin’ all over me floors,” he added, his jowls aquiver with fury as he eyed the puddles and muddy footprints. “Filthy Criminals...”
“If I had my way, you’d both be dangling from chains by yer ankles - spread-eagle - with a whip between your legs, right on your little cunnies three times a day for three days straight. ... But Dumbledore seems t’like you both - said to take it easy on ye,” Filch snarled.
“So’s I reckon I’ll just have t’ take what I can get,” he growled.
“Spread ‘em legs, now!” Filch barked, brandishing his paddle menacingly. “Hands behind your heads and bend over far as you can go. And ye won’t move if you know what’s good for you.”
Harriet and Hermione both trembled fearfully as they followed Filch’s instructions. A number of students began to gather in the Entrance Hall as the news began to spread. Filch strolled around Harriet and Hermione’s backsides, eyeing their rumps and little hairless slits.
Harriet grimaced when she felt Filch’s knobbly calloused fingers squeezing her bottom cheeks a few times, then stroking her flinching anus. She bit her lip and squeaked when Filch poked one finger inside her rectum, burying it up to his knuckle, and wriggled it around before yanking it out again.
To Harriet’s dismay Filch then viciously groped her vulva a bit before jamming two fingers into her vagina. He finger fucked Harriet a few minutes before yanking his digits out again. Then he stood behind Hermione and gave her the same treatment, wrenching a few squeals from her too.

Satisfied that he had prepared his victims, Filch stepped back and swished his paddle a few times.
“Ten swats apiece,” he muttered, managing to sound both furious and disappointed, “It’ll just have t’do...”
Harriet heard the whoosh of air and braced herself for the paddle to smack her bum.
Crack!

Harriet grit her teeth, letting out a little hiss at the first painful swat.
Crack! This time louder and harder.

Harriet’s cheeks began to burn, and she let out another hiss.
Crack! Harder yet.
“OW!” Harriet yelped.
Crack!
“OW!” Harriet yelped again, her arse on fire, and her little breasts wiggling from the force of the whack..
Crack!
Harriet was gasping and moaning now, not quite able to catch her breath as the blistering smack flattened her bottom so much that the paddle cracked against her pussy lips.
Five more times the paddle crashed against her buttocks; her bottom cheeks throbbed and burned, her vulva stinging like mad from the several whacks which had struck it. But she had managed to keep from giving Filch the satisfaction of more than a few “OW!”s.
Harriet’s collar forced her to remain in position as Filch hadn’t told her to move yet, but she looked up and caught Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes as he regarded the scene from the midst of the crowd of students.
Harriet scowled, wondering if Professor Dumbledore was there to make sure that Filch didn’t go overboard, but there was no question that he was amused.
Filch begin to lay into Hermione’s bottom even more ferociously than he had Harriet’s, having worked himself up into a frenzy. Hermione was screaming and crying after three sharp whacks - she had clearly never received a spanking before.
Dumbledore yelled at Filch to stop once the sadistic caretaker had reached ten strikes, but Filch was so lost in his feverish craze that he got in two more vicious whacks on Hermione’s rump before he heard Dumbledore.
“Argus,” Dumbledore said sternly as the sweating, panting caretaker reluctantly let his paddle fall to his side, “I am very disappointed in you. I warned you to take care - Harry and his companion are not to be treated as harshly as previous Receptacles. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir,” Filch scowled. “But it’s been too long since I’ve ‘ad someone to punish good and proper.”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore sighed. “No doubt the summer months have been quite tiresome for you. I shall find someone more appropriate for you to punish properly as soon as possible. I have no doubt that one of the other muggleborns has misbehaved in some fashion. ... But for the moment, I believe I should take these two from here now.”
Harriet was hardly ever going to forgive Dumbledore - he was on her list, and the fact that he was willing to find another muggleborn for the caretaker to whip their genitals was more than disturbing - but in that moment she was relieved that he was there to restrain that rotten bastard, Filch, from paddling Hermione until she passed out. He was definitely on the list too...
Hermione rubbed her sore, scarlet bum, still crying as Dumbledore led her and Harriet to their cage in the Great Hall and shackled them, there to remain until dinner time. Despite the spreader bars, the handcuffs, and the chain, Harriet had never been happier to sit on the cold marble floor. Hermione stood though, sniffling, afraid to set her flaming red bottom on anything at the moment.
“Hermione,” said Harry after a few minutes passed, “I know it hurts, but it’ll start to feel better after you sit for a bit - the floor will cool your bum down.”
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked skeptically.
“Yeah, I am!”
Hermione sighed and took Harriet’s advice. It stung badly at first when her sore bottom pressed against the marble, but after a few minutes the pain began to fade as the chill cooled her down. She let out another sigh, this one of relief.
“How..?” Hermione asked when she felt a bit better. “How did you manage to stay so calm while Filch paddled you? All you did was yelp a few times.”
Harriet hesitated. She had mentioned the Dursleys abuse to Hermiones a few time, but never in great detail; it really wasn’t something she liked talking about.
“Well, Filch was a bit harsher with you - more than a bit,” said Harriet. “And I don’t want to make it seem like what he did to you wasn’t awful - but to be honest, I’ve had worse from Uncle Vernon’s belt... and sometimes his fists. He’d sometimes whip my bum pretty raw through my underwear until it actually blistered, and sometimes he’d pummel me until I came up black and blue all over.”
“He always managed to keep in control somehow though. He’d stop before he hurt me badly enough to go to the hospital, and he never hit me where bruises would show,” Harriet continued bitterly. “Dudley and his gang used to beat me up a lot too, whenever they caught up with me anyway.”
“Oh!” said Hermione, her eyes widening, not sure what else to say. “So when you said he hit you before...? I’m sorry...” she said after a moment.
“Don’t be,” said Harriet. “I reckon you’ve never been spanked before - or punched - it’s always worst the first time. After a while you sort of get used to it - that’s why I would have rather stayed with them than have to deal with this horrible place.”
“Oh!” said Hermione again, horrified that Harriet had become so used to violence. She hadn’t really comprehended how awful it had been for Harriet at the Dursleys until now.
“You’re right,” she muttered, “My parents never spanked me. And I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be punched all the time.”
“I suppose it would probably be worse for me now that I’m a girl though,” Harriet sighed. “If what Snape said last week is really true, then Uncle Vernon and Dudley have been given permission to rape me all the time when I go back for the summer.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw set in determination.
“Well, when we get out of here Harriet, you’ll never have to go back there again,” she said. “It seems like I’ll never be able to go back home either. But we’ll figure it out - find some place to live by ourselves and look after ourselves with magic.”
“Yeah, we will,” said Harriet softly, nodding and hoping that their plan would work...

AN:
@ ClaireR89: Lol! :D ... Well if it's any consolation I feel dirty for even writing this story. But I try to blend equal parts satire, realism (I don't like "Stockholm Syndrome" non-con fics--counterintuitively perhaps, they seem even more of a disservice to rape survivors), and even a bit of fluff in my stories--maybe that has something to do with you liking it?
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Mudbloods at Hogwarts