A Mouse in Harr(iet) Potter 4 (Patreon)

“Have either of you seen a toad? A boy…” I opened an eye and glanced towards the door to the cabin. There, in bushy brunette glory, was a girl that could only be Hermione Granger. Goodie, now I can have the whole set! “Why is there a dog here? The letter specified only an owl, cat, or toad, not a dog.”

“Pad’s a foo dog, and the way the Groundskeeper was talking it didn’t seem like there was going to be an issue,” Harriet said, stopping her scratching as she turned to glare at Hermione. Well that won’t do.

Hopping off the bench, I walked over to Hermione and gave her a big, wet doggy kiss. She squealed in disgust and pushed at my chest, but I kept smothering her with tongue licks and canine affection. She ran off, shouting something or other about hating dogs. With a mental shrug, I returned to my spot on the bench. I’d win her over sooner or later, I was going to have my Golden Trio!

Closing my eyes, I enjoyed Harriet’s presence along with the rhythmic clacking of steel wheels on polished rails. Dogs have it so much better than people, prove me wrong! The rest of the train ride passed in an almost sleepy haze, Harriet and Rhonda chatting about this or that, the snack trolly coming through, really the only thing that was worth pulling myself to wakefulness was when it was time to change into the school robes.

Such a wonderful view, tight, petite expanses of girlflesh that I couldn’t wait to have my knot buried in. But first came the Sorting, then I could start grooming Harriet’s fellow first years. Still, I was surprised I’d seen neither hide nor hair of Draco, his… wait, if Ronald is Rhonda, maybe the lovely blonde in Diagon Alley was a female Draco? Either way, I’d find out come the sorting.

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I may have had a bit too much fun shaking off the water from the swim across the lake. I’m a magical super-dog and there wasn’t enough room in the boats to include me, so I swam across while keeping pace with Harriet’s boat. Said boat included Rhonda and two delightfully dusky skinned girls. When the boats reached the cove and all the first years disembarked, I waited until I was roughly in the middle of all the preteens before shaking the water off. After that, I kept pace with Harriet, following Hagrid up the stairs before coming to an entry hallway where we were met by…

Seriously, I don’t know who decided on the genders/ages of people in this world, but I definitely approve! The witch in dark green was without a doubt Professor McGonagall, if Maggie Smith were a good thirty to forty years younger than she was in the movies. Prime MILF age, so I need to find a way to break past her ice cold professionalism and get her pussy (heh) wrapped around my cock and her womb with my pups.

“The First Years, Professor, an’ the foo dog I’d told ye about,” Hagrid said, making McGonagall nod before he walked past her.

To be honest, I tuned out her speech about the houses. Which house Harriet went into didn’t matter, but to be honest I didn’t think I’d shown up early enough to change it. So when the speech was done, I followed along at Harriet’s side as we were led to the Great Hall. The ceiling was pretty, but there was so much magic in the room that were it not for the weeks spent in Diagon, I’d be sneezing nonstop.

As the group of First Years came to a stop, I sat down next to Harriet and slid my head under her hand. As to be expected, head scratches were more important than a buncha people going up to put on a ragged old hat. I only paid enough attention to pick up “Malfoy, Delphina,” and spot the cute blonde from Diagon getting sorted into Slytherin.

Unfortunately, scratching time came to an end when MILFGonagall called out “Potter, Harriet.” Following her, I could smell the nerves waving off Harriet and so when she sat on to stool, I put my head in her lap and tried to send comforting vibes her way. Either it worked or there was something else going on, because as soon as the Sorting Hat was placed on Harriet’s head, things went… trippy.

INTRUDER! INVADER!

My instincts were screaming at me, that something was where it shouldn’t but I had no clue what it was trying to tell me. Something was wrong, something I was supposed to prevent, but I didn’t know what or how to stop it. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor!Gryffindor! Take me off before the foo dog gets mad!” the Sorting Hat shouted, squirming and writhing atop Harriet’s head, catching my attention. It clicked, the Sorting Hat was in Harriet’s head, she was under my protection and it just dug about her thoughts and memories like an old, cheap newspaper.

Older human reached over and plucked Intruder off Charge’s head, and while I allowed Charge to lead me off, I gave Intruder a glare and a warning growl. I stood protectively by Charge’s side as she sat down at the long table, no longer in a playful mood. Charge was attacked, and I couldn’t do anything but sit there while it happened.

I stood guard throughout the feast, but as it went on that state of hyper focused protectiveness faded (aided by Harriet offering me bits of bacon and ham from her plate). So when the feast ended (along with the racket Dumbledore called music), all the Gryffindor First Years were led by a tall, gangly ginger to a portrait featuring a fat woman in pink. There was some more speech-ifying from the ginger, and the First Years were set loose to pick beds in the dorms.

Following Harriet, I admittedly had a bit of nervousness over whether or not the slide would activate (given the fact that I have a human mind in a male body) but fortunately it seems the spells considered male dogs trustworthy.

“Hi, we didn’t talk at the Feast,” a girl with dirty-blonde hair said as the five First Year girls started picking out beds. “I’m Lavender Brown.”

The rest of the girls introduced themselves, Harriet introducing me given my being linguistically challenged. Bright side, both Lavender and Padma loved dogs, so I got more enthusiastic ear and belly scratchers! Truely, being dropkicked into a dog’s body was the best thing EVER!