Lily's hand on her willow wand did not lower immediately. Her wand stayed trained on Bellatrix, the green fire of jealousy burning in her eyes. Yet slowly, deliberately, she drew a breath and forced her fury into shape.
With a flick of her wrist, she sealed the door and layered the chamber with a silencing charm, the silver shimmer of wards spreading over stone. Only then did she set her wand on the bedside table, close enough to snatch if she chose.
Her gaze fixed on Harry, his shirt still gaping open, his trousers clinging crookedly where Bellatrix had shoved him back into them. His face was scarlet, his eyes downcast, his shame plain. He opened his mouth to stammer an explanation, but Lily silenced him with a raised hand.
"It's alright," she said gently. "I can see what happened."
Bellatrix leaned her hip against the closed door, the bare skin of her thigh visible beneath her dishevelled robes. "Still worried about your son, aren't you? Don't fret. I haven't broken him… yet."
Lily's eyes lingered on her for a moment. "He's mine. And now he's more curious than ever."
Harry's cock twitched in his half‑undone trousers. His face flushed deeper, guilt and arousal warring on his features.
Bellatrix arched a brow. "He needs more than motherly training, Lily. You've raised him into a man. And you know, men develop an appetite for variety. That appetite only grows if you keep feeding it."
Lily stepped forward, not in anger or jealousy but with something softer, something resolute. Her eyes fell to Harry's trembling hands and his exposed chest. She ran her palm slowly over his sternum, her fingers brushing down his navel, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart beneath.
"You're still hard," she whispered, brushing her thumb along the skin just above his waistband.
He nodded, his cheeks burning. "I didn't mean to be."
"You're a growing boy," Lily murmured, her voice low and knowing. Her hand slid down his bare stomach, slow enough to make him shiver. "And it isn't your fault. Very few wizards could resist her advances. And she might be needing your help…"
Harry blinked, the heat in his cheeks deepening. "Help from me?"
Bellatrix gave a breathy laugh, her eyes gleaming. "She hasn't told you, has she?" she said sweetly. "Poor thing. You've already learned a thing or two from her and still don't realise why I'm really here."
Lily's hand paused, her smile never faltering, but the softness behind her eyes vanished. Her voice was smooth but clipped. "She came here to be impregnated, Harry."
Harry's breath caught.
"The Black family line is thinning," Lily went on, her fingers brushing idly against his chest. "No male heirs. No viable pregnancies in years. She wants a child. And she thinks you're strong enough to give it to her."
Bellatrix stepped away from the wall, the fall of her robes slipping further down one shoulder. "I don't think it," she said silkily. "I know it. Even your mother's glow these days has been noticed. I'm not the only one watching."
Harry swallowed hard. "You… really want me to get you pregnant?"
"Want?" Bellatrix tilted her head. "I came here for it, boy. But don't look so frightened. I'm not asking for forever. Just a few nights. Enough to be sure." Her tongue wet her bottom lip. "Strong magic needs strong roots."
She held his gaze. "And if you do," she added, voice lower now, "you gain more than a lover. Through me, you become the de facto head of the Blacks. That makes you stronger and safer — politically and monetarily. Especially with your lordship's rights coming due in a few years."
Bellatrix's eyes gleamed. She stepped closer, naked now save for her wand tucked behind her ear like a hairpin. "You think you'll be able to keep him hidden forever, Lily? He's nearly of age. When his name claims his seats, the vultures will circle. Greengrass, Rosier… even the old coot himself. Dumbledore has a way of twisting boys into banners. You want to keep him yours? Then you need allies."
Lily's jaw tensed, but she said nothing.
Bellatrix tilted her head, smiling like a knife. "I'm not here to steal him. I'm here because I know how valuable he is. But strong witches like me…" Her fingers trailed down Harry's stomach, pausing at the waistband of his trousers. "We don't get pregnant in one night. And even if we did, no one would know for weeks."
Bellatrix's fingers lingered at the fastening of Harry's trousers, nails grazing the fabric just above his hardness. "Look at this," she purred. "Your mother can teach you how to satisfy a witch, but she hasn't yet let you plant a child in her. That's where I come in."
Harry flinched as her fingers found the button. "Professor—"
Lily's eyes flashed. She stepped forward, voice cool but edged. "If you're here to be bred, you're not just going to paw at him. You'll do it under my terms."
Bellatrix gave a low, throaty laugh. "Jealous, Lily? Or finally ready to share?"
Instead of answering, Lily caught Bellatrix by the wrist and drew her from the door. Bellatrix stumbled back, still smirking, while Lily guided her toward the bed. One stocking had already slipped off in the scuffle, the other still fastened high beneath a thin garter. With each step, the robe slid lower, showing pale thigh, the curve of her hip, and the first dark curl above. Harry's breath hitched. His cock, already hard, twitched against his lower belly.
Only the throat clasp held. Lily found it and freed it in one practised motion. The robe fell and pooled at Bellatrix's ankles with a whisper. She kicked the cloth aside and stepped out, heels still on. A soft sound escaped her at the abruptness. She leaned back into Lily's hands as if testing her, nipples tight in the cool air, thighs parting on instinct. Lily's palm grazed the inside of one thigh and came away damp.
"On the bed," Lily said.
Bellatrix climbed onto the mattress. Naked skin gleamed in low light as she sprawled against the pillows. Her smile widened when Lily came close. Her eyes brightened from rough handling. She eased her thighs apart, almost an invitation, the grin still feral. Harry moved nearer, flushed with excitement, cock heavy and bobbing with each step.
Lily swung a knee to either side and settled over Bellatrix's face, holding her head light but certain between her thighs. Bellatrix braced her palms on Lily's calves and lifted her chin to meet her. The nightdress rode up Lily's hips, baring the soft swell of her backside and the slick heat between her legs. Warm breath bled through the thin fabric. Bellatrix's lips parted. Her hands slid higher from calf to thigh, urging Lily down.
"Since you are so eager," Lily said, low and even, "The deed will be done here, under my eyes. You will get what you want, but you will have to earn every drop."
She slid one hand from Bellatrix's wrist to the hem and lifted the nightdress. Slick heat met Bellatrix's mouth as Lily sank forward. A greedy tongue pressed out and licked a slow stripe, then circled with intent. Lily tightened her thighs and set the pace. A small rock of her hips smeared Bellatrix's mouth and nose with her arousal. Harry watched, chest rising, fingers flexing at his sides.
A slight shift of weight told Bellatrix what was expected. She answered with a low, hungry sound and slid her hands to Lily's hips. She held Lily there and lapped, swallowing each new roll of wetness.
"The more you satisfy me," Lily went on, "the more chance you have of getting what you crawled in here for. My boy's cock isn't a trophy for you to paw at. If you want his seed, you'll work for it."
A shiver ran through Bellatrix at the words. The smirk flickered, then steadied. She nodded against Lily's heat and went back to work. Tongue flattened. Then a quick flick. Then a light suck that shortened Lily's breath.
"Mmm," she breathed. "I do like it when someone is possessive."
Only then did Lily look over her shoulder at Harry. His cock stood flushed and leaking from all the teasing. Thighs tight. Stomach drawn. "Harry," she said, velvet over steel, "finish undressing her, but do it gently. It makes the witch yearn for you."
Lily's weight kept Bellatrix at the pillows and left her hips clear. Harry climbed onto the mattress at Bellatrix's side. Little remained to remove, so he took his time. He slid off each heel and threw them on the rug. He peeled the garter band from her thighs. He unhooked the single stocking still in place and rolled it down slowly, kissing the inside of her knee as he worked. The stocking slipped free at her ankle and joined the heels.
Harry slid between Bellatrix's knees and pushed them wider. Musky heat rolled off her. A dark, trimmed triangle crowned her mound. Her pussy was swollen and eager to be pleased. The outer lips were plush and flushed. The inner folds shone wine bright. The hood sat snug over a plump clit that showed with each breath.
He stroked his cock along her slit to slick the head. The broad crown came up shining. His foreskin rolled back and bared the thick ridge and the hard underside vein along that slight upward curve. He set the crown at her entrance.
Lily's thighs framed Bellatrix's face, nightdress rucked to her hips. Bellatrix's mouth and chin were wet and gleaming as she lapped Lily's pussy with reverence.
"Slowly," Lily said, voice steady and warm.
Bellatrix tipped her chin into Lily. "Come on, start already," she breathed, then sealed her mouth again and licked up hard to meet Lily's press.
Harry pushed. The first sensation he felt was tight and hot. Her entrance stretched with a wet catch, and the crown slid in. He held there and let her fluttering pussy welcome him, then fed her more, slow and measured, until his hips kissed the backs of her thighs.
The difference hit him. His mother's pussy was velvet deep, a steady, swallowing clasp that drew him down and kept him there. Bellatrix's pussy was narrow and greedy. Her cunt hugged the crown and tugged at the ridge on every pass. Slick and insistent for more. A quicksilver pull that made his breath stumble.
"Good," Lily murmured over her shoulder. "Now move slowly. Deep in, make her womb thirsty for your seed."
Harry drew to the rim and slowly sank back in with a slick, obscene squelch. He found her sweet spot on his own and targeted it with each thrust, the thick root bumping Bellatrix's clit at the end of every stroke. Her pussy fluttered in waves. Musk thickened the air. Wet strings stretched and snapped from his crown each time he pulled to the ridge.
Bellatrix gave a rough little laugh into Lily, then it slipped into a hungry moan. "Mm. Yes, right there." Lily's thighs trembled around Bellatrix's cheeks. A small, shocked sound escaped Lily as Bellatrix's tongue started fucking her. "Ah~"
Harry quickened his thrusts as if competing with Bellatrix's tongue, which was devouring his mother. The slap of his hips met the wet suction of her womb. Lily's soft, ruined sounds spilled above it and made the dirtier noise worse.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, breath breaking. "You are tight."
Bellatrix tried to smirk and lost it in need. "Tighter than your mother, I wager," she gasped into her, biting the boast off on a moan. She chased Lily up with a greedy tongue, mouth slick and devout for pleasure, as if she wanted to outdo her before her own womb was painted white.
Jealousy flashed over Lily's face. She rolled her hips down anyway and gave it to her, head tipping back, a thin yes slipping free before she caught it. "Make her beg."
Harry did not slow. His small frame pinned Bellatrix by the thighs and fastened the rhythm as the outcome was inevitable now. The sounds of moaning, licking, and fucking turned wet, messy, and relentless.
Her nails scratched the sheet below her. As her body fluttered around him, then seized. "Please breed me already," she managed, rough and wrecked, then only sound as he held the line that undid her. Her cunt clutched and tugged as if afraid to spill a single drop, gripping him from tip to base.
Lily fastened the set rhythm, the neat red thatch framing her pussy. She lowered herself until Bellatrix's tongue lay flat under her clit, then ground in small, steady circles. Her breath shortened. One sure roll of her hips and the taut string inside her snapped. Her climax came in tight pulses against Bellatrix's mouth, each pulse tugging along her inner walls and stealing a slice of air. She rode the afterbeats with measured pressure on the bud, then lifted a fraction to give Bellatrix a breath, thighs trembling as the wave eased to a flutter.
Bellatrix answered with a patient circle and a soft seal over Lily's clit. Lily settled again, one hand in Bellatrix's hair to guide, not grip. The tongue traced the hood, flattened, and held. Tension climbed fast. Her belly went tight. Her pussy clenched in small, grabbing squeezes. The second release broke clean, a rolling quake that ran from clit to womb and left her breathing in short, pleased bursts. She eased up once more, let the aftershocks taper to a warm thrum, and a pleased hum sat in her throat.
"Good," she murmured.
Lily lifted off Bellatrix's mouth, nightdress rucked to her hips, and shifted to the edge of the bed to watch, satisfied by Bellatrix's eagerness. She had never imagined Bellatrix would be this wild. Most pure-blood witches she knew were conceited and hidebound and treated sex as nothing more than a tool for reproduction.
Harry bent lower, braced himself on the mattress for leverage, and drove his cock deeper into the eldest Black sister's insatiable pussy. The snug catch of Bellatrix's heat gripped just behind the crown like a suctioning mouth, wet and fluttering.
He stayed buried and rocked the thick base against her clit in short, bruising pulses. Each grind dragged a gasp from her, hips jolting back to meet him, her walls milking greedily in tight waves. Her nails raked the sheets. Her spine arched as if she could split herself wider to take more.
"Make sure to cum inside her," Lily said, low and warm. Her voice trembled, but the command was calm. "She has certainly earned it."
Harry pushed until the crown kissed the soft mouth of her womb and held there as his control broke. He came hard. Heat surged out of him in thick pulses, emptying him in deep, flooding ropes. "Merlin," he gasped, voice cracking. "She is sucking me too hard."
Bellatrix shrieked as though hexed. Her arms wrapped tight around his back. Her thighs clamped around his waist. Her heels dug in hard, and her cunt clenched in thick, rippling waves, dragging at him like it could drain him to the last drop.
"Keep going," she panted, wrecked and urgent. "Do not stop till you breed me. I know you can."
He tried to pull back for air, and her body refused to let him go. The slick clutch dragged him in again with a wet, hungry choke. Bellatrix moaned hard at the suction, eyes glazed, mouth open against her own wrist. The obscene squelch grew louder as he rocked, breath shaking, letting her tightness keep him thick and swollen. Her folds clung to him, stretched and glistening, as if reshaped to his girth.
"Harry," Bellatrix whispered, voice shredded at the edges, lips still slick from Lily. "My womb is not satisfied yet."
Off to the side, Lily sat at the edge of the chaise. Her robes were hitched high. Her legs were parted, one hand between them, fingers circling her sensitive clit through her wet patch. She didn't speak. She didn't blink. Her gaze stayed fixed on the way her son was humping the raving Bellatrix. The way the older witch writhed under him. The way she moaned for him. Her twisted grin. Her slack mouth.
Lily's other hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing the nipple. Her lips parted. Her breath shortened. Jealousy burned behind her eyes, but it sharpened her pleasure. That cunt was just a lesson. That cock was hers. She had carved him into this.
Bellatrix turned sharply, wild-eyed, and caught Harry by the hair. Her mouth crashed into his, open and unrelenting, tongue forcing past his lips in a kiss that was brutal and deep. She kissed like she wanted to rip breath from his chest, to taste of pure ecstasy he was giving her. Her nails raked through his hair. Her body twisted up into his as her cunt clamped down again.
She glanced mockingly at Lily while she did it.
Her mad, glinting gaze stayed fixed as her tongue claimed Harry's mouth. Her hips jerked up to meet his, grinding as he thrust into her again, full and brutal.
Harry growled against her lips. His next thrust landed hard, hips crashing into the swell of her arse. His fingers dug into her waist, bruising her skin. Bellatrix moaned into his mouth, her whole body trembling under the force of him. Her legs stayed locked, welcoming every inch.
Lily's breath caught. Her fingers were soaked now, her strokes fast and wet, circling with feverish precision. Her other hand pressed hard under her breast. Her chest heaved once, but she didn't make a sound. She kept her mouth tight, her jaw clenched, her thighs trembling. She didn't beg. She didn't whimper. But her eyes locked on Harry's hips, on the way he drove into that body, and her rhythm only got faster.
Bellatrix's cunt clamped again, violently. Her body shook as the orgasm tore through her. She didn't pull from the kiss. She dragged him down harder, forcing him to stay inside while she writhed and spasmed. Her moan was low and broken, smeared through Harry's mouth. Her pussy milked him with greedy, twitching pulses.
Harry groaned thickly. His thrusts slowed. His balls pulled tight.
Then he came again.
He held deep, body shuddering, cock twitching as a second load flooded into her. His breath broke across her cheek, loud and helpless. He stayed locked to the hilt. The heat of it spilled deep. Bellatrix twitched around him, still kissing him, still looking at Lily.
At that exact moment, Lily came.
Her thighs jerked. Her back arched. Her fingers soaked the cushion beneath her, a sharp, hot squirt spilling between her legs. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. Her body trembled hard. Her climax bled through her chest and gut, controlled but searing. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry, on the way his hips jolted, on the way Bellatrix whimpered through the final spasm.
Then silence.
Bellatrix went limp. Her legs slid wide. Her hands dropped. Her head lolled to the side. Her eyes were glassy, barely open, her mouth parted with no sound. Her cunt still fluttered around the cock buried inside her, but she wasn't there anymore.
Only then did Lily move. Her voice sliced through the still air like silk across skin. "Pull out of her."
Harry glanced down. Bellatrix's hips had gone slack, her legs twitching faintly where they'd fallen wide. He withdrew slowly. Her cunt clung to the last inch, dragging wetly along his shaft. A thick, glossy spill followed him out, drooling from her swollen slit in slow rivulets that pooled onto the sheets below.
Lily rose from her seat with quiet authority. Her nightdress was nowhere in sight, and the thatch of red hair between her thighs glistened damply, the skin beneath flushed from recent release. Without a word, she stepped forward and pressed a warm, slick hand to his shoulder.
Harry shivered at the contact. She guided him gently but firmly toward the bed, her touch leaving a faint trail of moisture on his skin. He obeyed, limbs loose with exhaustion, chest still rising too fast. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sank into it, eyes flicking up to meet hers.
"I knew I'd have to share you one day," she murmured, voice calm, but threaded with something rougher. "I just didn't think it would be this soon."
She knelt between his legs, eyes never leaving his. Her fingers brushed along the firm lines of his thighs, nails light, teasing. She dragged the tips up toward his cock, already beginning to stir again despite the thick sheen still glistening across it. His dick twitched under her touch with eagerness.
"A witch like Bellatrix Black can't be left as enemy or friend," Lily went on, voice softer now, edged with pride. "But as a broodmare addicted to your cock…"
She leaned closer, lips hovering near the base, breath ghosting over the shaft. Her eyes gleamed.
"She becomes invaluable."
Harry's breath caught. He looked down at her, still dazed but steadying, and managed a helpless smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You make it sound like this was a strategy from the start," he said, voice rough. "Did you plan to weaponize your son's dick, or did that just… happen?"
Lily smiled, slow and knowing. Her fingers wrapped gently around the base, stroking once.
"If she were only the eldest Black sister, I'd have never agreed. But she's a professor now," she said, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "She has full access to you. Anytime. I can't keep you safe from her every hour of the day."
Her tongue flicked out to taste a streak of moisture at the underside, just below the crown. His cock jumped in her hand.
"So this," she whispered, licking again, slower, "was the best possible outcome possible, and it's not like you didn't enjoy it."
Her breath warmed the length of his shaft. She lowered herself, licking once from base to crown, a long, wet drag that left him twitching in her grip. Her lips parted and closed around the head in a soft seal. She sucked gently, then sank down. Inch by inch, she took him in. Her mouth was hot, slick, patient. Her throat opened for him, swallowing until her nose touched skin.
Harry groaned, hand sinking into her hair. Her throat worked around him, soft and snug, as she began to move. She rose with hollowed cheeks, then descended with languid weight, licking under the ridge before swallowing him again. Each motion matched the pace of his breath. It was not rushed. It was possession disguised as worship.
She pulled back with a wet sound and looked up, breath glinting on her lips. "No one in their precious pureblood circles would suspect a Black betraying their cause."
She gave him two slow strokes, her fist wet and confident, before taking him back, deeper this time. Her nose brushed his skin again, and her throat flexed to accommodate the full length.
Harry's jaw clenched. "Your mouth… it's like it was made for me."
Her eyes sparkled. She hummed softly in response, and the vibration made his hips jolt. Her hands stayed planted on his thighs, thumbs stroking small circles into his skin as she devoured him.
At first, her tongue was tender, lapping gently at the lingering slick left by Bellatrix, cleaning him in reverent swipes that followed each ridge, each pulsing vein. Her eyes never left his. There was that same fierce protectiveness behind her gaze, the kind she'd had since he could remember. But then the rhythm shifted. Her licks turned possessive. Her mouth opened wider. She took him again, no longer cleaning but claiming.
Harry's grip in her hair tightened. The sight of her, so calm and composed, kneeling between his legs, lips stretched around his cock, tore at the last fraying edges of his restraint. A low, primal sound escaped him as he began to bob her head on his cock.
Slowly at first, testing, then firmer. Lily yielded with fluid grace. Her throat relaxed. She let him push deeper, her lips stretched wide, her eyes fluttering shut as her gag reflex flinched and steadied.
She gagged once, soft and wet, then inhaled through her nose and settled into it. Her fingers dug into his thighs, anchoring herself as he took control, fucking her mouth with firm, deliberate thrusts. Each time he bottomed out, her throat hugged him. Each time he pulled back, she sucked harder, like she wanted to draw him back inside with vacuum force.
"Merlin, Mum," he gasped, the word torn from him without thought. His voice broke on the edge of restraint. Her eyes watered, but she didn't pull away. She sucked harder, cheeks drawn tight, lips shining. The obscene noises echoed, the slap of her mouth against him, the gurgle of spit, the faint wet choke when he held too deep.
Heat gathered low in his gut, rising like a spell about to burst. His thrusts grew faster, harder, timed with each contraction of her throat. Lily matched him, humming again, the vibrations rattling straight through him to his balls.
That was it.
With a raw, broken groan, Harry came. He shoved deep. His cock twitched in hard, pulsing ropes down her throat. Lily swallowed fast, not spilling a single drop, her throat working around him until he sagged forward, gasping, muscles trembling from the release. His grip loosened in her hair, soft now, petting instead of holding.
She pulled back at last. A strand of spit and cum stretched from her lips to the flushed head before she licked it away with a slow swipe of her tongue. Her voice was husky when she rose and kissed his mouth, tasting of sex and silk.
"For you, Harry," she whispered. "Always for you."
Learning from her earlier mistake, the wards around the room smothered every trace of noise, swallowing even the suggestion of debauchery. Lily thought herself clever. Years of easy magic had made her a little careless, though, and she forgot the oldest trick in the castle for spying.
Tonight, she was not the only one who discovered she liked to be a voyeur.
…
Hermione left the dueling hall still frustrated from the exchange with Professor Black. Fury and humiliation chased her through the corridors. She told herself she would wait for Harry, demand an explanation, something, anything that made sense of the professor's tone and Harry's unprovoked detention.
She ended up outside the Slytherin common room, the chill from the stone floor creeping through her shoes. She waited. An hour passed, then another half. Slytherins, ghosts, and even the portraits along the corridor stirred and drifted past, glancing at her in surprise, but Harry never appeared.
Restlessness gnawed at her. At last, she drew her wand. She frowned, then whispered, "Point Me, Harry Potter." The wand spun sharply toward the stairs.
Her stomach tightened. She followed the pull from the dungeons up the spiraling stone steps to the second floor. The air grew warmer, charged with the faint residue of protective spells. A shimmer hung ahead like heat above sand, faint and precise. A quiet glow pooled over a single door. A discreet brass plate on the lintel read L. Potter. She stopped.
She knew she should turn back. She had no reason to be here. Yet the Harry being beyond the door pressed her curiosity sharper than fear.
The torches along the wall burned low, washing the stone in amber and smoke. She raised her wand again, whispering a detection charm. The magic hummed, layered and interlocked, a perfect lattice that sealed every sound inside. Every ward looked flawless.
Except for one thing. The unguarded brass keyhole glinted bare.
Hermione stared at it. Logic and her adherence to rules told her to walk away. But curiosity drew her closer. She hesitated for a moment, but her inner Gryffindor won in the end. She bent forward, one eye to the tiny opening.
Hermione's breath came in shallow bursts from the sheer thrill as she pressed her eye to the keyhole, heart pounding in her ribs with every second. The wood was old, and the brass cold under her fingers. She knew she should walk away, but curiosity had her by the throat.
The slit gave her a narrow view, just enough to catch the corner of a large bed and part of a sheet dragging forward with hard, rhythmic jerks. At first, all she could see was Harry's naked lower back, the line of his spine arched tight as he thrust into something… no someone beneath him. His trousers and robes were gone. Each time he rocked forward, the bed seemed to creak like a curse.
The pale, bare legs beneath him shifted. They locked around his waist and dragged him in deeper. Hermione could only see the bottom edge of them from her angle, calves and knees lifting, feet bracing on the mattress. But the skin was sweaty and rosy and scattered with freckles.
The last person she had seen Harry with was Professor Black.
Her pulse spiked. Her mouth went dry. She pressed closer, as if closing the distance might make it untrue. But it was there. Harry's arse flexed as he rammed forward again, harder, deeper. She couldn't hear voices, but she didn't need to. Bellatrix's hips jolted in reply.
Hermione couldn't breathe. Her brain screamed at her to move. Her body refused. Her thighs clenched.
Harry rocked back again. The movement revealed a glimmer of wetness clinging to his cock before it sank out of view. Just a flash, but it was enough. The thickness of his glossy and hard cock, vanished between Bellatrix's legs with a wet sound she felt more than heard. She swallowed hard as a small pang of jealousy struck her heart. She hated herself for it.
Something shifted in her peripheral view. A second figure, lower to the ground. Hermione's eye tracked it instinctively. Just beyond the bed, in the gap between the wardrobe and chaise, a woman sat slouched in shadow. Her red hair spilled down over one shoulder. Her nightdress had ridden high, past her hips. Her fingers moved fast between her legs, the fabric of the chaise already dark beneath her.
Professor Potter.
Hermione recoiled half an inch, then froze. She could only see her hand working frantically over her bush. But that was enough. No one else had hair that red in the entire school, and who else could be in her quarters except herself? Harry's mother, moaning silently while she watched her son fuck another woman.
Hermione's entire body flushed. Her knees knocked together. Her nipples had stiffened, and something slick was already soaking through the seat of her knickers. Her heart hammered with a panic that couldn't escape.
She watched Harry snap his hips forward again, the flesh between his thighs catching the lamp's gleam for one raw second as it plunged deep into Bellatrix's unseen cunt. The sheer number of rules being broken made her gasp.
She didn't even hear the footstep.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Hermione jerked, wand slipping from her fingers with a soft clatter. The grip on her waist was tight, and a warm body pressed against her back.
"Well, well," came the whisper, breath hot against her ear. Pansy Parkinson. Her voice was low and mocking. "Granger, I didn't know you had the nerve to spy on professors. How very unlike the usual teacher's pet of you."
Hermione struggled, but Pansy only drew her closer, her mouth brushing the shell of Hermione's ear.
She leaned forward and took Hermione's place at the keyhole. Her breath hitched immediately. Her hips pressed against Hermione's rear in a slow, involuntary grind.
"Oh… bugger me. Now what would your little Gryffindor friends say?" Pansy whispered. "Watching Potter rail a professor while his mum diddles herself stupid?"
"He's got her pinned. Look at that filthy whore, legs wide and soaking. Is that… yes. His cock's ploughing her. Her legs are twitching… he's making her come again."
Hermione shivered. She could feel Pansy's arousal through their clothes. She could smell soap, perfume from her, and something muskier beneath.
"Oh, and Mummy's getting close," Pansy murmured, her voice thick. "Look at her. Hips jerking, fingers soaked… she's about to flood that chaise. Potter got them both strung out like whores."
Hermione tried to turn her face away, but Pansy's hand caught her chin. Their eyes met. Pansy's pupils were blown, lips parted in a hungry grin.
"You're wet too," she whispered, voice silk and poison. "You're soaked, Granger."
Hermione whimpered behind her hand, face burning with shame.
"Pansy, we should not be here," Hermione managed, voice thin. Her pulse would not slow. The sheer obscenity and taboo radiated through the warded wood door in waves that made her dizzy.
"Oh, spare me the righteous act." Pansy straightened, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "I always said you people don't understand how the wizarding families really work. But this… this is delicious."
Hermione's face went white. "What do you mean, you people?"
Pansy's smile was sweet and cutting. "Mudbloods who think they understand everything they see." Then she twirled her wand once and whispered, "Silencio."
Hermione's protest died in her throat.
"Shh." Pansy's voice softened to mock sympathy. "You'll thank me later. You're about to rattle this entire corridor, and I don't fancy detention for ruining someone's good time. Especially not hers."
She hooked her arm through Hermione's and pulled her from the keyhole. Their footsteps rang soft and uneven over the flagstones as Pansy half-dragged her down the hall. At the corner, the shimmer of the moonlit corridor vanished behind them.
"Finite." The charm snapped quietly, breaking the silencing spell with a faint shimmer in the air.
"There," Pansy purred. "Now you can scream all you want."
Hermione staggered a step, breath returning in a harsh rasp. "You don't understand what we just saw."
"Oh, I understand perfectly." Pansy's grin turned cruel. "And if I were you, I'd forget faster."
She stepped in close, breath brushing Hermione's cheek. "In fact, you'd better forget I was ever there. Completely. Otherwise, someone might start whispering that you wanted in."
Hermione flinched. Her legs felt unsteady. Her thoughts wouldn't stay in one place. She didn't know if she wanted to hex Pansy or collapse and cry.
Pansy tilted her head, satisfied. "Don't worry, Granger," she said, turning toward the stairs. "Your secret's safe… as long as you forget mine."
Hermione stayed frozen, trembling. The castle smelled of candle smoke and ozone, the aftertaste of strong magic. Only when Pansy's footsteps vanished did she turn back toward the grand staircase. And as she gripped the banister, her hand still shaking, she knew one terrible thing with absolute certainty. She would never be able to look any of Potter in the eye again.
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Thanks for sticking with the ride so far!
The story is building toward a true harem path. Daphne, Tracey, Hermione, and even Mrs. Greengrass are planned additions. But first, Bellatrix takes the stage as she discovers Lily's little secret boy toy in the next chapter. The next chapter is Hermione, who wants to save Harry from incest, from being reduced to a plaything, or from Pansy Parkinson, who's determined to outshine Daphne among the Slytherins!
You can share your suggestions for any kinks in the comments.
Read Chapter 4 Sex Education for Muggleborns and 5,694 words ahead now on P*treon.c*m/OmniNymph or buy it from my K*-fi shop at k*-fi.c*m/omninymph.