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Back to School	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 16357 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of its characters, premises, or related information from either the books or movies. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
6 — The New Grind

Hermione woke up at her usual time, but rather than being snug in her bed, she was still sprawled in one of her armchairs. She stood up, flexing stiff and aching muscles. She needed a shower. And breakfast. And a wank. Not necessarily in that order.

“How do I call down to the kitchens…” she mused, as she took off her clothes from the previous night.

There was a crack and Hermione yelped, covering herself with her hands as a house elf appeared in the room.

“Miss Granger called?” She asked. It took Hermione a moment to recognize Winky in the happy-faced elf attired in a neat dress.

“Thank you Winky. Could you bring me breakfast in my room this morning? I’m running a bit behind.”

“Of course, Miss.” With a pop, Winky was gone, returning moments later with Hermione’s usual breakfast — coffee, orange juice, fruit and a pastry — on a tray. She thanked the elf and dug in, quickly polishing off her meal. Looking at her watch and realizing that she had an hour before Arithmancy, she crossed back to her study, drew out a new memory and dove into her Pensive.

This memory was shorter than the last one. In it, Hermione and Ron were on patrol as part of their prefect duties, about a week after they slept together for the first time. The week had been a blur, with the couple shagging at every opportunity. Prefect patrol duty was an excellent occasion for illicit liaisons, and this particular night was no exception.

Prefect badges on their chests, they departed the tower for their usual patrol rounds, stopping to kiss at regular intervals. Their rounds also included several quick sessions of oral sex in broom cupboards and side passages. The present-day Hermione sped through those and the patrol itself, her mind focused on what was to come.

With their rounds nearly over, Ron tugged Hermione into the nearest classroom.

“You’ve been very naughty, Miss Granger,” he said, adopting a serious tone, conjuring a long thin rod like the one some teachers used as a pointer. Hermione gave into the fantasy immediately.

“I’m sorry, professor. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m afraid your word isn’t good enough, Miss Granger. I can take fifty points from Gryffindor, or you can accept ten strikes to the bottom.”

“That doesn’t seem fair!” Pouted Hermione.

“Twenty.”

“All right. Twenty.”

“Stand here, Miss Granger.” Ron directed her to stand in front of the teacher’s desk and to place her hands on the surface. A light sway of the rod encouraged her to spread her legs. “Lift your skirt, Miss Granger.”

She obeyed, flipping her skirt up onto her lower back. Ron tutted.

“I’m afraid it will be twenty-five switches, Miss Granger,” he admonished

“Why, professor?”

“These undergarments are far from regulation. They are beyond indecent! Remove them at once!”

“Yes, sir,” said Hermione. She had chosen this pair especially to tease Ron, since the sight of her ass still drove him wild, she’d opted for a rather skimpy lace thong. She pulled them down her legs and handed them to Ron. He raised them to his nose and breathed in her aroma.

“My, my,” he said, sighing deeply. “You really are a naughty girl.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hermione, a little teasing. The rod came down on her ass with a short smack and she moaned.

Again and again the rod struck her across the ass and each time a jolt like fire racing through her body. She couldn’t see it, but she knew that her thighs were fairly glistening with the evidence of her arousal by the time the twenty-fifth lash struck her across her very red cheeks.

“I can see that we haven’t quite made the right impression, if you enjoyed being caned so much. We’ll have to be a bit more creative. Get on your knees.”

“Professor?”

“You heard me, Miss Granger. On your knees, there’s a good girl.”

Hermione knelt in front of Ron and he unbuckled his trousers, fishing out his cock.

“Wow, sir,” said Hermione, reaching up to take hold of it. Even soft, it filled her hands agreeably, and it was swelling rapidly. “I didn’t know they got so big!”

“Put it in that pretty mouth, Miss Granger. You’re going to want it be very wet.”

Understanding where this was going, Hermione moaned and took the cock into her mouth. While she sucked, trying to get Ron’s cock as wet as she could, Ron kicked off his shoes and she tugged his trousers down his legs.

“Do you know what’s going to happen next, Miss Granger?”

“Are you going to put your cock in my bum, sir?”

“Yes I am, Miss Granger. Take your clothes off for me and bend over the desk again.”

Hermione stood, admiring Ron’s now naked form. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, putting on a show for Ron. She had gone without a bra, so as soon as her shirt was unbuttoned, her breasts fell free. She dropped the shirt and then slowly eased out of her skirt, leaving her in just her shoes and socks.

Ron ran a big hand over her upturned bottom, dragging a finger slowly over her hole. He rubbed his cock slowly over her dripping pussy and up her ass.

“Please,” she moaned. “I need it, sir.”

He obliged, slipping his cock into her extraordinarily wet pussy and filling her just as marvelously as he had earlier that afternoon. He fucked her slowly and sensually for a few minutes, letting her pleasure build slowly. As before, he introduced a finger into her ass but this time followed it with a second. Hermione was used to one of her own small fingers probing that hole when she was near the peak of her pleasure: two of Ron’s large fingers was a noticeable increase in size, and she loved it.

“Are you ready for your punishment, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had almost forgotten their role play, so deep in lust was she lost.

“Yes, sir. Please…take my ass!”

Ron tapped her backside with his wand and she felt a sensation of slickness work its way into her rear passage as his cock slid out of her pussy. He smacked it wetly against her cheeks and then aligned the bulbous head with her anus. She moaned again as he started to press forward. He paused.

“Are you quite sure that you’re ready?”

“Fuck my ass, sir!”

“Very well, Miss Granger. In three…two…”

On “two” his cock pushed in to her anus, spreading her sphincter far beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She had been ready for pain, but there was none. Only pleasure. Between her arousal, Ron’s earlier attention to her butt, and copious amounts of lubrication, he slid in, stretching her to what she was sure was her limit, but bringing immediate ecstasy. She came immediately and he laughed.

“Hermione Granger likes it up to ass,” he said, losing grip on his character. “So good to know, because there’s no way this doesn’t become a regular thing.”

“Oh, yes,” moaned Hermione. Her orgasm was fading as Ron started to pump into her butt, but his ministrations had that sensation building again rapidly. After a few minutes, he pulled out so they could change position and, on an impulse, Hermione sank down to her knees and took his cock in her mouth, reveling in the naughtiness of what she was doing. Then she climbed onto the desk and spread her legs wide, gripping her ankles in each hand.

Ron knelt down and licked her ass before rising and sinking his cock back into her. In this position she felt him even deeper inside of her, as if at any moment his cock would enter her throat from below. He began to pant, and she felt that delicious rising pleasure once more.

“I’m going to cum, Ron,” she moaned. “I want to feel your cum in my ass when I do…yes! Yes! Yes!!! Fuck!!!”

With a deep grunt, Ron unleashed a torrent of seed into her ass just as her final orgasm hit. She screamed in euphoria, letting her legs wrap around Ron. She drew him in for a kiss and then slithered down to the floor to clean his cock.

They re-dressed and headed for bed. Hermione left the Pensive, remembering that, even after all of that, she had still gone to bed with a coating of Ron’s cum on her face after giving him a final blowjob in the middle of the empty common room.

Back in her rooms, Hermione collected the memory and replaced it in her head, still shuddering a bit from that last orgasm. She checked the clock, happy to see that she had judged the time right. Before leaving for classes, she collected her favorite butt plug — a present from Ron — and slid it in. Not only did she want a reminder of that sensation, but she was also considering getting Dean to fuck her ass and wanted to be prepared. Also, the naughtiness of wearing a plug in class without any knickers was too good to pass up.

Her morning classes — Arithmancy and Ancient Runes — passed without any incident. Her only afternoon class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. She realized as she made her way to the classroom, that she didn’t even know who was teaching it this year. She pulled her timetable out of her bag and looked: “Defense Against the Dark Arts — Prof. Marcellus Proctor.” Not a name she recognized, but she knew the McGonagall would have hired a serious candidate for the the position.

She entered the room and stoped, her mouth open in shock. The classroom appeared to have been stretched, with the desks arrayed against one wall leaving a long open space in the middle of the room. Various platforms and obstacles littered the floor.

“Hello, Miss Granger,” said a deep voice with an American accent. “I’m Professor Proctor.”

She turned and almost gaped again. Her new professor was nearly seven feet tall, had skin the color of teak, a large afro, and a bristly beard. His hair was mostly black but shot through with grey in places. It was hard to tell in robes, but other that a small paunch, he looked to be all muscle. She instantly regretted not wearing panties.

“Hello, Professor,” she managed, her voice a little bit breathy.

“Have a seat,” he said, waving his wand. Two armchairs materialized. “I thought that I’d take the first day to get to know you a little bit and to see how experienced you are…obviously you have a great deal of practical experience, but I’d like to know details. Then I can craft a course of study best suited to your needs. Would you like tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please,” said Hermione. She sat down before her knees started trembling or before evidence of her arousal made it far enough down her legs to be visible. She absolutely adored feeling small. Both Ron and Dean made her feel that way, as they were each over six-feet tall and well-muscled, but this giant of a man was doing things to her body just through his presence.

She sipped tea and they chatted for most of the hour, learning not only that the professor was indeed a former dueling champion and a freelance dark wizard hunter, but also a direct descendent of one of the Salem witches. Finally, the professor stood.

“I think our primary topics this year are going to be defenses against some more arcane magical creatures, some curse-breaking, and dueling. I know you have a fair share of dueling experience already, but one can never have too much practice. We have ten minutes left: let’s have a practice bout.”

“May I change my clothes to something more suited for a duel?” Asked Hermione.

“Of course.” He turned his back to her and walked towards his desk. Hermione cast a quick spell to transfigure her outfit into a pair of trainers, sweat pants, a sports bra, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Much as she hated to do it, she banished the butt plug conjured knickers as well. The professor slipped off his robe and rolled up his sleeves. Hermione felt a jolt of arousal surge through her, seeing how the professor fairly burst out of his light blue shirt.

“All right, Miss Granger, please come to the center of the room. Today we’ll do a freeform duel. I’ll match your level. Pretend I’m a Death Eater. Begin.”

The duel lasted for the full ten minutes, with Professor Proctor easily matching and countering each of her spells. She reached for every esoteric spell she knew, but he seemed able to perfectly counter each and every one. Eventually, his counter-spells became more forceful, causing her to go more on the defensive. He used relatively simple spells, but delivered at great speed and with tremendous force. Hermione had always prided herself on her casting speed, so, in a momentary break in his spells, she unleashed a flurry of simple spells of her own, finally succeeding in getting a few past his shields. He was clearly holding back, but she was still proud of slipping anything by him.

One of her spells, a simple but violent blast of wind, momentarily flattened his clothing against his body. While his shirt was quite tight to begin with, his trousers were quite loose. In the wind she could clearly see the shape of his flaccid cock outlined in the suddenly tight fabric. She barely contained a moan at the sight of it: even flaccid it hung nearly halfway to his knee and looked to be nearly as thick was her forearm.

His disarming charm seemed to come out of nowhere, and her wand spun across the room.

“Quite good, Miss Granger,” said the professor, who wasn’t even breathing hard. Hermione bent over, bracing her hands on her knees, breathing in deep gasps. “I’m quite impressed, both with how you did at the start and at you picking up on my technique so quickly, but you got cocky.”

Unnoticed by him, her pussy throbbed at his use of the word.

“You got proud of yourself and let your guard down. Never stop until your opponent is unconscious, restrained, or disarmed. Very good for the first day, though. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Thank you, professor,” Hermione managed. She collected her bag and raced to the nearest bathroom. Ignoring the girls gossiping around the sinks, she stepped into a cubicle and cast a silencing charm before banishing her clothes and summoning her butt plug. She sat on the toilet and threw her legs high to the sides, slid the plug back into her ass and placed the vibrating tip of her wand on her clit. She came almost immediately, crying out in ecstasy as the orgasm that had been building for most of the previous hour wracked her body. She let herself cool down for several minutes before conjuring back her uniform and leaving the cubicle.

The other girls had gone, which was a relief. She checked her appearance in the mirror and then headed for her last class of the day, herbology.

For this class, she was part of a group, and took a place near Demelza and Martin, listening as Professor Sprout gave them instructions in the care of the Devil’s Snare seedlings that they would be working with. The greenhouse was hot, and most of the students worked with their robes discarded. Hermione smirked whenever she saw Demelza or Martin glance at her nipples, which were quite readily visible through the thin cotton of her blouse. Dean, who was working at a table across from theirs also noticed, and grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“He’s so hot,” whispered Demelza.

“Who?” Asked Hermione.

“Dean. He’s a fucking stud.”

Martin blushed.

“You don’t agree, Martin,” asked Hermione.

“I guess so,” said Martin, “but Demelza…you shouldn’t be checking out other guys!”

“Why not?” Asked Hermione. “She’s got eyes, doesn’t she? Tell me you haven’t been checking out my tits this whole time.”

“That’s different, isn’t it? We…”

“I know what we did,” said Hermione, “But Demelza deserves some eye candy, too. Maybe even more that eye candy. We all know you can’t provide everything she needs.” She leaned closer. “She’ll still get what she can from you, and if you’re good, maybe she’ll let you be part of getting what else she needs. Oh…I think someone likes the idea.” Demelza followed Hermione’s gaze to the small bump in the front of Martin’s trousers. He blushed furiously.

Done pruning her small clipping of the plant, Hermione leaned over the table and started to take notes on the process. She felt eyes on her and looked up. Malfoy, who was working alone, quickly averted his eyes, a blush mantling his pale face. Hermione grimaced internally. Positioned as they were, he would have gotten a perfect view down her top. She shook her head and got back to work.

After class she joined Dean on the walk back to the castle.

“I think Malfoy enjoyed seeing your tits, Hermione,” he said when they were out of earshot of everyone else.

The boy in question walked ahead of everyone else, his head down.

“Who wouldn’t?” She asked, laughing.

“Fair enough,” said Dean. “But he’s a knob.”

“I’m attempting to give him a fresh start, if he’ll take it. He hasn’t been quite his usual bellend of a self so far this year.”

“Whatever you say. I’ve mostly been ignoring him. Want to study together tonight?”

Hermione grinned, catching the tone in his voice.

“I have some actual studying that I need to do. Want to come around to my room around eight?”

“Sure. I should be at a good stopping point with everything else by then. Mind some company at dinner?”

Hermione somehow managed to keep her hands to herself during dinner, but kept stealing glances at Professor Proctor and then at Dean, comparing the two. Both he and Ron paled in some respects next to the professor, but she was reassured by the warmth that still flooded her every time she thought of Ron, and Dean’s arms turned her on just as much as the professor’s did. Maybe she should suggest that Dean grow out his hair and try a beard, though?

Shaking her head at her own silliness — having a crush on a teacher — she concentrated on her dinner and then excused herself to the library. Her good intentions to study were ruined by the presence of Draco Malfoy. Not that he did anything, but he was ensconced at a table in plain view of the one she favored. She tried to ignore him, but it seemed that every time she looked up, he was staring in her direction. He always quickly averted his gaze, so she wasn’t sure that it was deliberate for several minutes, but it soon became apparent that he was watching her.

Why?

Was it something to do with their acrimonious past, or was it more to do with the almost abasing way that he had been behaving lately? Or was it more primal? He had been staring at her breasts earlier on, after all. Suspecting that it was the later, she glanced back at Malfoy again, and he quickly looked away.

She’d never considered him in that way — he’d always been too much of a prick for her to want to do anything but jinx or slap him — but she made a quick assessment, anyway. He certainly wasn’t her usual type: she went for height and muscles if she was looking for an equal partner or to be submissive, and for the more tom-boyish looks of submissive men like Harry.

Malfoy wasn’t really either.

Height-wise, he was right between the two groups, within a finger’s-width of her own five-foot-six inches. He was neither well-muscled, flabby, nor thin. His face didn’t have either the rugged masculinity of Ron’s or the soft appeal of Harry’s. If anything, his looks were more statuesque, like Fleur’s. Really not her type at all, even if she discounted his personality. But she could always tease him a bit, especially since he was unlikely to object or respond in any way.

Smiling, she turned her visible attention back to her books, but deliberately let he skirt ride up her legs a little, exposing a fair amount of her thigh. A little later she shifted again, crossing her legs to expose even more thigh. She could feel Malfoy’s eyes on her even more intently and decided that it was time for the piece de resistance. She started to pack away her things and in stowing them in her bag, managed to knock a notebook onto the floor. Cursing, she leaned over to get it, flashing a prolonged view of her panty-clad ass across the room. She heard a small clatter, and when she looked up, Malfoy was hurrying out of the library.

Laughing to herself, she headed for her rooms. Dean was lounging near her door deep in conversation with Professor Sinistra.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” said the professor.

“Good evening, Professor. How have you been? I really wish I could have continued Astronomy…”

“I am well, Miss Granger,” she said in her usual high-speed manner. “And while I, too, wish you had continued on in your studies with me, I must say that six N.E.W.T. level courses is more than enough for any sane person. I was just telling Mr. Thomas that we’ll need to have a session tonight, as there is to be a small meteor shower that needs to be observed. I’ll leave you two to study until then.”

She hurried off down the corridor.

“Time to study?” Asked Dean, a cocky grin on his face.

“Oh yes,” said Hermione, grabbing his tie and hauling him into her rooms.
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