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Dreaming	By : Ambigious Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 15818 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor the characters represented in this story. This is just for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Dreaming
- 1
Dreaming

"We've got it, Draco. It's the perfect spell!"

The Slugulus Eructo spell, or as it was more commonly known 'Slug-Vomiting Charm', was a nasty piece of work. Malfoy considered the spell fondly, remembering a day back in his second year at Hogwarts when the Weasley runt had tried to curse Malfoy's gang of Slytherin's with it. Most of the Wizards with weaker constitutions - those who mingled with mudbloods and the like - didn't hold it with such high favor.

Where most Wizards saw a juvenile spell, one on par with making farting noises or causing uncontrollable giggling, Malfoy saw a perfectly innocent and legal way to torture others. It was humiliating, for one; it also had wonderfully cruel physical results as well, for the slime around the slugs created a vile taste, sickness that lasted for days, and the pain of having a good pound of slug grow inside your throat until you spewed it out. The truth was, the only way to make it better would be to alter the spell and make it come out of other body parts.

Malfoy had been promised this very feat. Crabbe and Goyle weren't very smart, so Malfoy suspected that the leader of the trio was Pansy Parkinson, who had a Ravenclaw connection - one she was only proud of because that Ravenclaw was a pureblooded "almost-Slytherin" - that could probably achieve this slight manipulation of the spell. Of course, the whole idea had to be a partnership; he suspected the foundation of it was one of the two minions', since it mainly focused on vagina's, and he was pretty certain his own girlfriend wasn't a lesbian.

The trio of them sat down in the Slytherin common room couches, with Malfoy pacing the floors in front of them. The idea was simple, but as they saw it becoming real, a small hesitation struck Malfoy curiously - a conscious, perhaps? Pansy seemed to detect this, as she stood up and slid her arms seductively around Malfoy's neck. He thought to brush her off and put her in her place, but she nibbled on his ear, making Malfoy feel that warm fuzziness that inspired him to do stupid things for her. That, and fear of being considered weak in front of her.

"Let's do this," she purred. "I have the perfect person to try it on. Hermione Granger, the filthy mudblood."

When she said the name Granger, Malfoy couldn't help but feel a slight jump in his stomach. He hated that mudblood, but only because she could make Malfoy seem a fool without even trying. He could make her cry, but he couldn't break her; it was not the same in reverse.

He imagined her standing there before them. Crabbe and Goyle would be holding her down, while Pansy, smiling the nastiest smile she could, slowly lowered her wand to Hermione's panties… no, pussy. Hermione Granger didn't wear panties; at least, not in Malfoy's head she didn't. He could see her grey skirt bunched up around her waist; tears streaming from her eyes as slug after slug grew, and then crawled out of her most sensitive of areas. The thought of her there, helpless, while she was sexually molested by the foulest creature in the Earth was enough to make Malfoy linger on the thought. Pansy would laugh and make things more humiliating, the darling that she was. She'd probably make Granger completely naked, with her milky breasts free, chained to the wall…

Malfoy pushed Pansy back, so that she couldn't feel the growing heat beneath his robes. She gave him a quizzical glance, but as her eyes darted downwards, she grinned wickedly.

Oh thank Slytherin she thinks it's for her, Malfoy thought, releasing a breath and moving his hands strategically in front of himself.

"I'm going to make her scream for you," Pansy whispered, leaning in to brush back a strand of hair from Malfoy's face. For just a moment, he could almost see Pansy in the picture, whispering that very same thing as she pet Hermione's hair... no, pussy. Her delicate fingers exploring areas on Granger's body that she already knew where to find. A press here, a pinch there, with Hermione moaning and gasping.

Where is your head at, Malfoy? He scolded himself, as Pansy nudged him. The fantasy disappeared, and Malfoy cleared his throat before gently pushing Pansy away. He had to be a man in front of Crabbe and Goyle, or else they might see how excited he was for their idea. Or any idea that involved getting revenge on that horrible Griffindor.

Pansy turned around and said something, but Malfoy couldn't hear her over the sound of Granger's moans of pleasure playing through his head. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle excitedly got up to go put their plans in motion. Malfoy came out of his dream just long enough to realize that Goyle had been speaking to him.

"You a'right there, Draco?" He asked, concern clear on his stupid face. Malfoy always did like him better than Crabbe; soft mind, soft heart.

"This is your plan, and as far as anybody is concerned, it's just your stupid fantasy." Malfoy said, thinking up a lie on the spot. Goyle looked hurt, but Malfoy couldn't risk looking like he really wanted to get Hermione naked. He had to be stronger than them, as an example of what a proper Slytherin male ought to be. "I don't want the Ravenclaw girl to see me and suspect that we're actually doing it."

Goyle ducked his head, muttering something about Draco always being right. He swung the door wide as he left, and Malfoy saw that Pansy had lingered to hear his response. Her mouthing was smiling, but her eyes searched Malfoy. It was almost as though she was finally beginning to suspect something... no, nothing, because there was nothing. Malfoy loved Pansy. She was beautiful, smart, and developed her breasts a full summer before any other girl in Hogwarts. Malfoy loved Pansy.

Malfoy loved Pansy.

The three idiots disappeared, closing the door to the common room behind them. Once he was to himself, Malfoy wasn't sure what to do.

"A nap would do me good," he said, aloud. "Yes, brilliant."

He crossed the stone floor to the boy's dormitory where his bed was. The door opened with a creak. Everything in the rooms creaked, though. The floor creaked where there was wood instead of stone; the beds creaked when you lied down on top of them; the mirrors creaked when the ghosts in the walls moved about. It grated the nerves, especially when Malfoy had tried every spell he and Pansy knew to uncreak everything. Slytherin was set in its dark, damp ways.

Malfoy's bed made that noise that he hated as he curled up on the top. He started thinking about Pansy, with her cat like eyes and her voluptuousness. So many described her as 'hard', but he considered her beauty more to be 'strong' instead. She had wide cheekbones, soft lips, olive skin... Malfoy often dreamed of her strolling into the boy's dormitory, like she belonged there. She would be wearing her uniform, sans the sweater and robe. Just the pleated skirt and the crisp white shirt, tight in all of Malfoy's favorite places. Her long socks would be gone, replaced by silk stockings, so that her feet would better fit the dark heels she was wearing. Her hips would sashay back and forth, with her arms slowly working the buttons on her shirt. She would be wearing lipstick, and her lashes would be long and soft.

It didn't matter that Malfoy saw her walking in while Crabbe and Goyle were there, wearing their damn embarrassing pajama's - Crabbe's with dinosaurs on it, Goyle's with crescent moons. They would be staring, jaws agape, and wishing they hadn't called her ugly during their first year.

"Oh Malfoy," Pansy purred, her voice donning an American accent. "I hate to just... slither in-" on that cue, Pansy grabbed the bed post and slid down it, spreading her legs and giving Malfoy's minions a peek of her panties. She danced back up, running her hand along her leg and lifting her skirt. Malfoy saw the black lace, and the tight curls of pubic hair right through them. "-but I want you in my Chamber of Secrets."

It was like the game the boys had played in their second year, where they turned all the names of places in Hogsmeade and Hogswart into sexual innuendo, only it was sexy; it wasn't the goofy way that Crabbe said it.

On his bed, Malfoy reached down and grabbed a hold of his warm, tingling penis. He slowly rubbed it, trying to get a rhythm into it. In his fantasy, he didn't have to. Pansy climbed on top of him, slowly crawling to him like a lioness on the hunt. She had unbuttoned her shirt just so that as she crawled, Malfoy could see down it, and know that it was just her breasts there; no bra to worry about.

Pansy straddled Malfoy, resting her vagina right on top of his bulge. She popped off the last of her buttons, and Malfoy watched as her breasts - perfect in every way - jiggled and bounced as gravity got hold of them. Her dark brown nipples were pointed, even before she grabbed one and started to play with it, twisting it delicately.

"Oh, Malfoy," she said for the second time. Malfoy didn't mind. He couldn't think of sexier things for her to say as she played with her boobs; that was really enough right there. "Now that you're a death eater, you can do anything. You can do me."

Malfoy stopped. In his mind, Pansy stopped. She looked at him curiously, and he realized that he was no longer brandishing a dark mark.

"I can't do this," he said, pushing Pansy off of his bed. "You can't make me!"

The bed creaked as Malfoy quickly climbed off of it. He could see the phantom of Pansy, sitting there, giving him that look from the doorway. It was the one that said I know. It was his father, standing in the corner, shaking his head. I know. It was the Dark Lord, staring him down, saying I know.

Malfoy left the dormitory and went back to the common room. He paced a bit more, then sat down, burying his head in his hands.

"I can't think of her," Malfoy confessed to the furniture around him. "I can't think of my girlfriend because then she'll be in my head."

And if she's in my head, then she knows. She knows that it twists my stomach to think of Dumbledore having to die. That I regret everything. She knows that I can't. Do. This.

"Of course you can," came a response. Malfoy looked around. The room was empty. He leaned back in the couch, feeling the plushness that was so unlike Slytherin fare. Then he saw her. Twelve years old, with a lion's mane framing her head. She didn't look very different back then. She still had that unnatural, almost boyish charm. "It's real easy. You just have to try it this way!"

She pulled out her wand and flicked it in the air. Malfoy didn't see what spell she was casting, because she disappeared. He thought of that lucky git Harry Potter, and about how he never fell short. He stared the Dark Lord in the eyes and called him by his name. It was because of her. She had unwavering faith that all wizards and witches could be as good as Dumbledore, as long as they just dedicated themselves. She wasn't an idiot, but she was too dumb to realize that some people weren't so kind hearted. Some people weren't born into a family that would die for them, or one that had enough brothers and sisters that if they didn't like one, there was another just around the bend.

The Malfoys weren't like the Potters or the Weasleys or the Grangers.

"You stupid bitch!" Malfoy screamed at Hermione, as he pointed his wand at her panties. "No, pussy, because sluts like you don't wear panties. You want everyone to see you."

Crabbe and Goyle held Hermione down, muggle-style, while Pansy slowly rolled Granger's grey skirt up. Once the soft brown curls of her pubic hair were revealed, Malfoy used his father's favorite spell to spread Granger's legs and hold them down. The Ravenclaw girl showed up, dressed up like a lingerie model, and holding her wand delicately between two shiny blue nails. She was Indian, so her skin was the beautiful dark shade that was flawless by default. Her eyes were dark, her hair falling freely down to her waist.

Malfoy nodded to her, and she moved her mouth. She didn't say the hex because, honestly, Malfoy couldn't stand her beautiful mouth forming such an ugly word as Slugulus. As Malfoy had never known any woman to give birth to slugs, he wasn't sure what noise Granger should be making. So she made some soft, womanly noise of panic that was racked with painful sobs. Malfoy hardened again as Hermione's vagina stretched to accommodate the first slug. He could see the slime around it, moistening Hermione's inner cavity; the body pulsing as it grew larger and larger, inch by inch. As it wriggled, Hermione's legs did a weird little dance, and her eyes widened to a look of sheer horror. Her hips were trembling as it came out - splat - against the counter. Draco laughed at the thin lines of slime still attaching the slug to Hermione's privates. Goyle lifted Hermione's head by the hair, letting her see the monster that had just been inside of her.

Hermione's face crumbled as she started to cry. Pansy - now wearing nothing beside her heels - picked the slug up and cradled it like a baby. Malfoy didn't know why that turned him on, but seeing it made him hot for Pansy all over again. Pansy could feel Malfoy's mind urging her on, so with a saucy pout, she placed the slug against her breast. Like a leech, it grabbed on. It's body writhed as it started suckling, and the look on Pansy's face was rapturous.

A blush crept up onto both of the teenaged girls faces as they found themselves quite suddenly enjoying themselves immensely. Pansy reached her free hand down in between her legs. Draco wasn't sure how women pleased themselves, but when Pansy allowed him to roam down there, she always enjoyed him fingering her clitoris. So that's what Pansy did; just like a tiny penis, she used her fingers to rub circles, moaning as she did.

"This slug is too big!" Hermione screamed, arching her back.

"I know what to do," Ravenclaw said, suddenly sporting sleek librarian's glasses. She gently pushed Malfoy out of the way, so as to be directly in front of Hermione. Ravenclaw bent over, pressing her soft buttocks into Malfoy's pelvis. He noticed how perfectly pear shaped her body was, with the hips forming that beautiful teardrop shape that Malfoy always dreamed a girl would have. She then put her lips to Hermione's clitoris, and used her tongue to simulate exactly how Pansy was pleasing herself.

Although Draco wasn't sure why, Ravenclaw's technique worked. The slugs dropped out of her faster, somehow managing to avoid dirtying Ravenclaw as they slid within inches of her mouth. The effect it was having on Hermione was marvellous, though. Her tears were dried, but her mouth was making this sexy little "O" as each slug shook itself free. A blush was rising fast to her cheeks, and the sounds she was making... they were like somebody in a fever, only sexier, in a way. She positioned herself, finally giving in to the scene, and forced Ravenclaw to take the entire pussy in her mouth. Ravenclaw was hesitant at first, but was soon nuzzling into Hermione's muff, causing the brunette to cry for more.

Malfoy felt the heat building inside of him as Hermione leaned back, this time her screams those of pleasure. He just couldn't resist anymore. Ravenclaw's panties no longer existed. Nor did her bathrobe. She was now naked except for those heels, bent over in an impossible position that allowed to kiss Hermione's cunt, but also positioned perfectly for Malfoy's cock. He grabbed her hips for support and pushed himself in, unceremoniously.

"Oh, please, please..." Hermione begged. "Oh my god!"

Crabbe and Goyle had reached over and popped off Hermione's shirt, revealing her tiny breasts. Malfoy nodded his approval, and they put their mouths to her body, biting down on her nipples. She screamed and struggled violently, because she wasn't supposed to be enjoying herself. That only made it worse, because their teeth were clamped tight.

Ravenclaw was wet. Her insides were slick and smooth, but also tight. It didn't feel like a hand at all, no. Malfoy pumped her as he watched Hermione squirm. The force of his thrusts pushed her forward, until Malfoy had to pick her up to give them enough room. He lifted up just her legs, bending them back until they were near over her head. Somehow, his penis still slid in easy. Because her pussy was so moist, he found himself going so fast that he was hitting her clitoris and G-Spot at the same time. Ravenclaw's eyes rolled up in her head from the pleasure she was getting.

Pansy grew jealous, as she was prone to doing, and decided to walk around to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing. She climbed up on the table and squatted down, rubbing her privates directly in Hermione's face. Hermione tried to shake herself free at first, but then Malfoy realized it would be hotter if they were having a three-way lesbian cunnilingus competition, and so Hermione willingly ran her tongue along Pansy's now shaved pussy. The slug was still attached to Pansy's breast, but it hung freely as Pansy reached her hands down to grab Ravenclaw's nipples. She twisted and turned them, and Ravenclaw's whole body clenched up as she orgasmed. Malfoy felt the skin around him tighten, but he didn't want to stop. Not when things were getting... better... by... the... second...

Push, push, push... until finally, the pressure was too much, and he exploded inside of Ravenclaw's body.

...

The hot sperm startled Malfoy back to reality. He had been sliding down the couch, apparently, as he found himself half in the floor and his shirt having been pulled halfway up his belly. His cum was all over his hand and some was on his belly, making it all quite sticky. With a disgusted grimace, Malfoy drew his wand. A quick cleaning spell removed everything.

Malfoy scooted back onto the seat proper, and looked around. The room was depressing with how quiet it was. He sighed, happy that he was done with that nasty bit of hormonal readjustment. Although one could normally hear people approaching the common rooms, Malfoy felt shame, as though anybody who walked in would know, instantly, that Malfoy had been jerking it.

In his panicked mind, Draco blamed Hermione, seeing as how she was the one who kept coming up in his head. Maybe Pansy was right; maybe Granger really was using love potions. What else would explain the intoxication that Draco felt when he thought of her... naked... writhing beneath his touch. Weasley didn't know what he had. Granger had grown into her looks, and like a delicate flower still folded in the summer, she needed help spreading her petals. By penis.

He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. There just wasn't a point in denying it. He was hard again.

The dank dungeon that was their home away from home suddenly became a brightly lit room. In Malfoy's new fantasy, they were in the Room of Requirements, and Granger's lean body was chained up to a wall. Her hands were tied together over her head, but her legs were spread wide. She looked like a human arrow, pointing towards the ceiling.

He saw her legs, waxed to a sheen and alabaster white. His eyes traced her body, lingering on the small tuft of blonde hair strategically trimmed above two pink folds. He imagined walking up to her and placing his hand there, running his fingers along her moist pussy and thinking to himself how different it felt from Ravenclaw's. It was softer, less slick; like a comfy pillow. She threw her body around, trying to get away from him. She groaned in frustration, cried at her humiliation, as Malfoy pinched her clitoris.

Then he imagined her breasts. In real life, Granger had two small cups; Malfoy decided that since this was his to control, hers could be bigger this time. Her breasts were suddenly a C-cup, but still in that pointed shape that the smaller sizes often had. He grabbed them in his hands and kneaded them. Pansy never let him get this far up top, but the girls in the pictures always seemed to enjoy this. They'd arch their backs – and in his mind, Granger did so, leaning her nipple right into his palm. He would grab the nipple, now erect with sensation, and twist it until Granger gasped. He took both boobs in his hands and gave them the same treatment, until Granger was practically humping the air, failing to deny her body's natural instincts.

"You want me, mudblood," Malfoy hissed, leaning against her. Her head was back, so his mouth was able to wander her neck. He found the spot that often pleased Pansy, and began to bite and suck on it. Hermione wriggled beneath him. He gently flicked her nipples with one hand, and reached the other back down to feel the moistness forming between her legs. The noises she made were unbearably sexy; the feeling of her completely at his mercy.

Malfoy leaned back to admire the nice red mark now on her neck. Hermione whimpered, and Malfoy could feel her clit swelling – did clits swell like penises did? He'd have to ask Pansy. He pressed down, earning himself a sharp inhale of breath. He moved his fingers in the same kneading patterns as her had with her breasts, and it wasn't a few seconds before her hips suddenly trembled. Her cheeks lit up bright red, her mouth formed that same "O" from before, and Malfoy realized she had just squirted herself.

He stuck two fingers inside her folds, confirming as much.

"Naughty whore."

Malfoy wasn't sure what Granger would say, but he imagined it was something like: "Oh, please Draco, no more. Please. I'm still a virgin! That stupid red-headed Weasely's small dick hasn't been anywhere near me. Please don't spoil my untouched maidenhood!" Or something like that, anyway.

"You can't tell me what to do, mudblood. I'm in control!" Malfoy pushed Granger roughly back. Her frizzy hair was actually sexy waves, and went down her back, like Lady Godiva's. Tears were in her eyes as Malfoy stepped back. "Remember when your boyfriend tried to make me eat slugs? Well, I hope he enjoys this little hex."

Malfoy wasn't going to make slugs come out of her vagina. That was… disturbing... moreso because of how hot he actually thought it was. But he did raise his wand and slice the air in front of her in a way that in no way resembled the swish-and-flick they'd be taught in year one. Hermione's body bucked forward. Malfoy wasn't sure what his spell should do, so Hermione suddenly was making those noises that Malfoy always heard the girls in the pictures do. She moved her hips around in circular motion, seductively dry humping the air as the red in her cheeks grew darker. Her nipples were fine points, and she thrust them forward, moving her body in the most impossible way, so that her ass was fully realized while her breasts were still front and center.

He smiled. He had cast a… Horny Hex. That's what he'd call it. It instantly made any woman feel like they were about to experience an orgasm. Only… it would never let them get that far. Yess! Malfoy's heart raced at the thought of Granger, bordering the ultimate pleasurable sensation, but unable to reach it. Her body would ache for his touch, forever unsatisfied.

Malfoy was suddenly naked. He smiled down at his package, which was at least five inches longer and eight inches wider than real life. Why he didn't think of it last go, he didn't know. Hermione moaned for him.

"Please… put it in me… make it stop… oh god, make me cum…"

"Call me 'God' again, and I will."

Hermione had a defeated look in her eye. She lowered her head, and with lips forming the most sensuous pout possible, she gasped: "You are God!"

Malfoy undid her binds with his wand. She instantly turned around and stuck out her butt. Malfoy always knew she liked it like a dog. Like the bitch she was. Like Ravenclaw, she just wasn't as pure as Pansy, who would never let herself not look Malfoy in the eye when fucking. Hermione's vagina was well lubricated already, so Malfoy just plunged in. Hermione cried out in pleasure – "Fuck me, God. Fuck me. Fuck me like a bitch!" – as Malfoy rammed into her. His balls, now the size of baseballs, bounced against her smooth cheeks. Her cunt felt like a velvet sock, so smooth and tight. She was definitely a virgin.

He pulled himself nearly all the way out, then quickly thrust forward again, all the way to the balls. Hermione squeaked with every thrust. Malfoy's penis was so hard and strong, he decided to stand up. Hermione went with him. Her eyes rolled back as she was suddenly being lifted through the air by Draco's impossibly large manhood. He walked her up against the wall, and started to thrust again. Out again, in again, out again… his speed increased until Hermione's grunts of passion became a single scream.

"Oh -" he pulled out. "- God!" He pushed in. "Oh… God! Oh… God! Oh… God!"

Finally, the pressure was too much. Draco stopped thrusting as his cum burst from his one eye. Hermione sank to her knees, whimpering. Draco thought about cleaning himself with magic, but when he saw that Granger was realizing that she hadn't gone to the edge, he knew there was an opportunity for something else he wanted to try.

"If you clean me up," he said, a wicked glimmer in her eyes. "I'll make you cum a thousand times."

Hermione saw no choice. She nodded and started to get up, but Malfoy wasn't going to let her be in control. He grabbed her by her hair, forcing her to her knees. He then thrust his cock in. Hermione gagged – he felt the click at the back of her throat as she did so – but Malfoy wasn't going to stop. He used her face that same way he'd used her pussy, and didn't stop until a brand new spurt of sperm was coating Granger's throat.

Draco pulled out, and then grinned as Hermione realized that she still wanted more. She tried to masturbate herself, but when that wasn't working, she stood up and tried to get Draco inside her again.

"You promised me," she started to say, but her physical needs overwhelmed her mental capacity. She managed to get his head inside of her before he cruelly pushed her away, listening to her vagina let him go with a rather wet sounding pop.

"This room has everything you need, whore. It's my gift to you."

Hermione's eyes were wide as she surveyed the room. Malfoy knew there was a stack of sex toys in there somewhere, because there just had to be. In his mind, he walked away, not even caring that he was naked as Hermione found the pile and started trying every single one of them. Only he knew she would fuck herself to death before she ever felt that burst of pleasure again.

…

Malfoy opened his eyes. His hands and robes were covered in sticky white semen again, but he could feel himself slowly getting hard before he even thought about cleaning up this time. Imagining his version of Granger, squirming as her body cried for release, without any sort of fulfillment, was going to be a frequent fantasy.

"Damn you, mudblood," he muttered, as he started pumping himself again.
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