February one-shot #2 (Harry/Hermione + some more) (Patreon)

Lets call it a redo. This is a new one-shot using the second place prompt of Harry w the DA girls. Might end up being more of a story, who knows.

....

The scent of sweat hung high in the air as Harry walked between the lines of students. He had the others practicing their disarming charms, and while many scoffed at him trying to teach them such a basic spell, it soon became apparent that many couldn't cast it properly, and even among those who could, their aim was absolutely terrible.

And so, Harry had spent this first DA meeting focusing on their casting. Learning expelliarmus had been relatively quick for everyone, but the rest of the time had been spent on fixing people's fundamentals. Their stances, the way they held their wands, the way they aimed, how they should flick their wrists, how they should line up their bodies to show a smaller target. All of these were mechanical concerns that most non-aurors didn't even consider, simply because most witches and wizards did not have an expectation of needing to use their magic to fight.

Thankfully for the DA, Harry Potter knew his stuff. Even those that didn't fully believe that he had dueled Voldemort in the graveyard the previous summer could not deny his achievements: England's under eighteen dueling champion, already a fellow of the International Warlock's Research Council, defeater of the terrifying Manticore of Madrid, along with a very public apprenticeship under Nicolas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore.

Harry had been a magical prodigy for a very long time now, easily coming out from under the shadow of his most famous title, that of ‘Boy-Who-Lived’.

And so, despite his age, no one could deny that Harry was the only one qualified to run this clandestine defense association. And during this first meeting, he had proven that he was an excellent teacher, as well.

“Susan, remember to be conscious of your wrist.” Harry stepped over to where the redhead and her blonde friend were standing across from each other.

“I'm trying to keep it stiff.” The busty girl blushed slightly as she wiped a few beads of sweat from her brow.

Harry smiled kindly as he stood over the shorter girl. His eyes caught sight of her ample cleavage and tried to avert his gaze as quickly as possible.

Most of the students had shed their outer layers, meaning that Harry got a very good look at Susan's massive milkers as they dripped with sweat.

He shook off those thoughts as he refocused on her. “Remember, we're trying to impart some side spin onto the spell now just to give it some movement. Bringing your arm across isn't enough, you need to flick your wrist to make it really work.”

“You mean like this?” Susan focused, bringing her arm across her front and flicking her wrist in an exaggerated manner as she cast.

“Expelliarmus!”

The jet of red light shot off from her wand and towards Hannah, who quickly cast a protego, which they'd all practically perfected after getting so many reps in during this lesson.

Susan's spell seemed to careen way off target, and the girl's face fell, only to be shocked as the red beam curved around Hannah's shield and struck her on the side.

“Gah!” Hannah yelped in surprise as her wand flew towards Susan, who was too stunned to catch it. Luckily for her, Harry plucked it from the air without even looking away from her.

“That was excellent, Susan. Very well done.”

“T-Thank you.” The redhead blushed deeper than ever as Harry walked over to Hannah and gave her her wand. The slim blonde also flushed when Harry drew near.

It was difficult not to when he was walking around shirtless, showing off his chiseled body.

“Alright everyone, I think that's enough for today!” Harry called out. Everyone stopped and turned towards him.

It was clear that they all needed to improve their stamina. Most of the students were completely out of breath and sweating buckets, all from just forty-five minutes of drills.

“I think it'll take another two lessons before we can move on to learning new spells. Right now, I want to dial your casting in as best as we can. By the time we're done, everyone should be able to add a little movement to their spells, got it?”

There were no disappointed groans, not even from initial skeptics like Justin Finch-Fletchley. This first lesson had shown them all that they had a lot to learn, and that it was best to trust Harry's methods.

Everyone began to shuffle out of the Room of Requirement. Harry stood by the door, wishing everyone well as they left.

He couldn't help but notice the sultry smiles he received back. Cho Chang, who had apparently broken up with Diggory over the summer, was particularly brazen in the way she eyed him up, but it seemed like almost every girl couldn't help but eye-fuck him on the way out.

Harry just smiled back, allowing himself to freely ogle the girls, who seemed to very much enjoy his attention.

Pretty soon, the room emptied, leaving Harry not quite fully alone.

Standing at the other end of the room was a girl with shoulder-length brown curls and a very cute face.

Hermione Granger was standing nervously, hands clasped behind her back

As she seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at Harry.

Harry began walking towards her. Hermione was wearing a light red skirt and a white button up shirt that had been heavily ruffled up by the day's session. She also had on a pair of crimson knee-high socks to go with her black shoes.

“Well, I'd say that was a success, wouldn't you, Hermione?”

She audibly gulped. “Y-Yeah, I'd say so.”

Harry stopped in front of her and Hermione yelped as Harry reached out and touched the side of her face with his hand.

Harry gently nudged her head up, coaxing the girl's light-brown eyes to meet his own.

“You should feel proud, Hermione, all your hard work has finally born fruit.”

It was true. All of this had been her idea, after all. She'd been the one begging Harry to run the whole thing, taking each rejection in stride, coming back with a different pitch.

She'd been so dedicated to the cause that when Harry had finally given her his counteroffer, she hadn't immediately run away.

Yes, she had sputtered, her face turning red as a tomato as she tried her hardest not to anger him while also telling him just how inappropriate his idea was.

But she'd stayed, and to Harry's surprise, she'd agreed to his terms right then.

He'd thought it would take her a couple more go arounds before she agreed.

“S-So, erm, what exactly do we-”

Harry shushed her, his thumb running over her bottom lip as his other hand stroked her arm.

“Let me take the lead, Hermione. I'll teach you all you need to know.”

Her lips parted ever so slightly to protest, her pink tongue poking out and brushing against his thumb.

Harry dipped downward and trapped her tongue between his lips, his hands quickly wrapping around her slim waist to pull her towards him.

Harry sucked her tongue into his mouth and began to lick it with his own. Hermione shuddered, and Harry's hands roamed her body, one hand burying itself in her hair while the other went down under her skirt. He latched onto one of her surprisingly thick and round cheeks and squeezed hard, spreading her butthole as he kneaded the soft flesh.

Hermione had yet to react, but slowly, she began to reciprocate. She was inexperienced, but Harry didn't mind. Her hands went to his bare chest, gripping his rock-solid pecs as Harry deepened their kiss.

Hermione was putty in his hands, and when he pressed his crotch against her own, he felt dampness that wasn't solely due to sweat. Harry ground himself against her panty-clad pussy, and Hermione shuddered once more as she felt the monster that awaited her through his joggers.

Hermione had been dreading this so much, mostly because she felt she had compromised her morals for the greater good. She was practically prostituting herself!

But now, none of that mattered. What mattered was the pleasure that Harry oh so easily was able to extract from her. He was like an experienced musician and she was his instrument. Every soft brush of his fingers against the bare skin of her back, every squeeze of her bum or sensual grind against her crotch, it was a masterful symphony he was composing with her body.

Harry broke their kiss and Hermione gasped as he licked the side of her face on his way to her ear. He sucked her lobe into his mouth and bit softly at the cartilage, earning a moan of pleasure in return.

Harry was toying with her, making her dance to his tune. And Hermione couldn't get enough of it.

“I think you're more than ready, love.” His voice tickled her ear, the vibrations that rattled her being something fierce. Both his hands went to her ass, pulling her up as Hermione had enough wherewithal to jump and wrap her legs around his waist.

Harry walked her backwards. The brown-haired girl wondered where, before she remembered what room they were in.

A desk materialized where there had not been one before, and Hermione hissed as her bare bum settled onto an icy cold marble surface.

“Tell me you want it, Hermione, tell me you're desperate for me to pop your little cherry.”

She gasped, the heat inside her body rising as he so crassly described their situation.

“Come on, let me hear it now.” Harry's hands went to work, languidly working on each button of her top, popping each open before moving on to the next.

“I-I really want this! I want you to pop my cherry!”

Halfway down her shirt, Harry decided to just grab onto the offending garment with both hands and tear it off of her.

Buttons flew every which way as Hermione's pink bra was revealed. The bookworm's breasts were much more than a handful, as surprisingly large as her supple backside.

Quickly identifying that her bra had the clasp in the front, Harry's dexterous fingers quickly worked to snap it off.

Hermione's armpits closed in as her first instinct was to keep the bra on her, but Harry's soft cooing led to her arms relaxing, letting the garment fall down her chest and onto the desk.

Her perky c-cup breasts were on full display, with light pink nipples that were rock hard, betraying just how horny the teenager was.

Harry leaned forward and took one of those nipples into his mouth, his tongue dancing expertly around her sensitive nub. Hermione's back arched, squishing the softness of her breast against Harry's nose and forehead.

Hermione moaned in wanton pleasure, now completely submitting herself to Harry's will.

One of his fingers glided up her thigh before hooking under her soaking wet knickers, gently tugging at the material until it managed to sneak into her burning hot center.

Harry's finger tickled her folds, gently circling around her slick lips, and Hermione bucked. She wanted more, she needed more.

His finger sank into her and made her scream in pure bliss.

Harry's finger crooked inward inside her walls, jamming itself into a nook that left Hermione seeing stars.

Her breathing was coming in short and ragged now. Harry had sucked more of her tit into his mouth, and he nursed on her nipple while his finger began to piston in and out of her cunt.

“Oh! Oh god!”

Hermione came undone, gushing a fountain of fluids down his palm as Harry bit down lightly on her nipple, enhancing her pleasure by tempering it with pain.

Hermione bucked against his hand, the death throes of her former innocence as she surrendered fully to Harry's ministrations.

When her trembling slowed was when Harry pulled his finger out of her and popped her tit out of his mouth. He stepped back to observe his work.

Her eyes were half-lidded as her mouth was wide open, soft pants escaping through her lips.

“You see, Hermione, this won't be so bad now, will it?”

The girl shook her head slowly, still lost in a cloud of lust.

“Now, we still have a little bit more to go, alright?”

She nodded just as numbly as Harry worked on his joggers

As she saw Harry's pants fall to the floor, Hermione's eyes widened as the sight before her broke her lethargy.

A long, thick slab of meat, with a bulbous, turgid cockhead that seemed to be aiming itself directly at her poor little sex.

“Don't worry, Hermione. I promise it'll feel even better than what we just did.”

She gulped, but she looked up at him and nodded lightly, “Y-You'll be gentle?”

Harry smiled softly. “Of course.”

He stepped forward and pulled her towards the edge of the desk. His cock head nestled in between her dripping folds, the gentle stream of her juices having to forge new paths around the burning hot cork that threatened to dam her up completely.

Hermione looked into his eyes, and Harry leant down to press his nose against her own, his lips ghosting over hers, mere millimeters apart.

And then he pushed. He did it slowly but deliberately, not stopping as his cock plunged into her depths, splitting her walls open as his engorged shaft, veins bulging against the skin, reformed her insides in one single push.

“HARRY!” Hermione screamed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed hard, a reflex that led to him shoving the last few inches of himself deep into her, until his head ended up pushing against her cervix.

“Oh god, oh god! I-It's so big!”

“Shhhh.” Harry assuaged her softly as he settled into her. His cock was so thick, it stretched her out to the point where her walls were now constantly contracting, desperately trying to tighten back up around him. His cock was receiving an oscillating massage from Hermione's quim.

“I'm going to move now, ok?”

Hermione opened her mouth to say no, to plead with him for more time, but Harry pulled back, and she could only moan, her toes twisting up on each other as it felt as if his cock was dragging her cunt along with it.

Then he pushed back in, hard and fast, and a bell rang in Hermione's ears when his head gave her cervix a concussion.

Harry's hands went to her cheeks, squeezing their delicious softness as he stroked in and out of her quivering sex. All Hermione could do was squeeze his waist for all he was worth, her legs going numb as Harry dominated her, beating her into the desk as Hermione's tongue lolled out, her tits dancing rhythmically with each slap of his pelvis against her crotch.

Harry fucked her harder and harder, until the sound of slapping flesh came so rapidly that Hermione lost track of it, the ringing in her ear and the burning from the tips of her fingers all the way down to her core adding to the pounding waves of pleasure that overwhelmed her virgin pussy.

When it all proved too much Hermione threw her head back and screamed incoherently, wishing to bask in her orgasm but given no respite by the raven haired teen who just kept on fucking her.

“H-Harry, p-please…”

“Shhh, no stopping now, Hermione, you have to put up your end of the bargain, after all.”

Hermione could do nothing but give up and give in. She let Harry fuck her into next week, trying her best not to lose her sanity as his club tore her pussy apart.

Finally, at some point in there, Harry pushed in one last time. He bottomed out and Hermione felt a jet of hot, viscous fluid flood her insides. If she'd been more coherent she would have been indignant over him coming inside of her, but as it was, all she could do was squeal as more ropes of his cum filled her trembling pussy.

Harry summoned Hermione's knickers before he pulled out of her. He slid them up her legs, the quivering girl lacking the motor skills to assist him in any way, and placed them on her hips. Immediately, his cum soaked the material, though Harry was content that most of his seed would be kept safely inside of her.

…

Harry waited for Hermione to recover before he walked back to Gryffindor tower with her. The girl was demure, and she did not protest at all the many times along their path that Harry pushed her against a wall and gave her a rough kiss.

When they entered through the portrait hole, Harry stood by the stairs and watched as she made a very shaky trip up into the fifth year girl's dorm, only after he saw her disappear into the room did he head for the boy's stairs.

The first meeting of the DA had been a rousing success.

When Hermione had first come to him, Harry had had to hold back his excitement, this was exactly what he'd been hoping for, and the opportunity practically fell on his lap.

While Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor, it was understood by Dumbledore and Sirius that it would be a waste of his time to attend normal classes. And so, while his peers learned how to turn matches into needles and make a pineapple dance, Harry had private tutors and took Alchemy with the Headmaster.

Sirius wanted to give him a semblance of a normal childhood, with friendship and the usual teenage shenanigans, which was the only reason Harry had attended Hogwarts. Harry would have meals with everyone else, have the weekends off, attend quidditch matches, visit Hogsmeade, the works.

But in the end, it didn't fully work. Harry was always a bit detached from everyone. He couldn't join in to bitch about how unfair Flitwick's essay was or how funny it had been when Longbottom's cauldron exploded and caused him to sprout boils.

Harry hadn't helped himself much, as back then he'd not seen the point in making friends. He had a job to do, killing Voldemort, skipping rocks by the lake seemed like a childish waste of time.

By his third year, he'd realized his mistake. He was isolated and lonely, and found it really hard to make friends. The others saw him as this godly, Dumbledore-like figure, and so he struggled to interact.

Worst of all, at that point he started to grow an interest in the fairer sex, and found himself frustrated as he just didn't have the requisite skills to know how to talk to a witch.

Like every other time Harry found himself with a dilemma that didn't involve arcane magic, he went to his godfather, and Sirius Black more than delivered.

He didn't give him pointers or buy him a book on how to talk to girls, no.

He offered his cousin Nymphadora Tonks a king's ransom to entice the girl to quit the auror department. He then hired her on, and as far as Dumbledore was concerned, she was just another tutor for Harry to learn auror tactics and movement in battle.

That was bullshit. What Nymphadora had really been hired for was to tutor Harry on women. How to talk to them, make them laugh, seduce them, make them feel special and wanted, the metamorphmagus taught Harry all that and more.

Harry took to those lessons well. But that wasn't Nymphadora's only duty, no, she also taught Harry how to be an absolute demon in the sack.

It wasn't just pure, lustfilled sex, at least not all of it. She changed her form, showing Harry different body types, different shapes and sizes and how to pleasure them all. She rode his cock day and night, made him eat her out until his jaw was sore. All to make sure Harry would never leave a witch wanting.

He'd passed with flying colors, as evidenced by the fact that once she had nothing left to teach him. Tonks stayed on in the Black estate as his personal bodyguard.

Last year, Harry had been able to test out his newfound skills on the French champion. Fleur Delacour had been a tough nut to crack, stuck up and always with her walls up, but Harry managed to seduce her, and after he bedded her, she'd been left a quivering mess.

It had not been a surprise when she'd come to England and been hired on as the keeper of the Black family wards.

With all those successes, Harry had been soaring high. He would have been content with just his veela and metamorphmagus lovers. Fleur and Nymphadora were more than enough for him.

Then the graveyard happened.

…

The moment Harry touched the cup, he felt a tug behind his navel as the familiar sensation of portkey travel took hold.

His gut lurched. Why would the cup need to be a portkey when the maze could just lower to reveal the winner?

His feet touched solid ground once more and his instincts kicked in, he made to roll to his right as he prepared to cast a solid metal shield.

Except nothing happened. He couldn't move.

He cursed himself. He let his guard down by touching the cup without checking it for enchantments. Not only was it a portkey, but it also had a touch activated petrifying charm placed on it.

His eyes moved desperately in their sockets as he tried to will his body to move. He tried to wandlessly dispel the charm, but whoever had applied it had been quite powerful.

“Ah, Potter, finally arrived.”

That voice sent chills down his spine. He had never heard it in real life, only in his nightmares, but he instantly knew who it was.

After thirteen years, he was face to face with Lady Voldemort.

She was a grotesque thing, a bundled up homunculus In the arms of a wild haired witch with deranged violet eyes.

Azkaban escapee Bellatrix LeStrange.

He tried to speak but his lips would not move. As he stood there, helpless, Voldemort instructed Bellatrix to drop her into the cauldron that had been bubbling over in the background.

The witch did just that, and then, Sirius’ cousin sauntered over to him, hungry eyes boring into him.

What she did next shocked him. She dropped to her knees, pulled down his pants and let his stiff cock spring free.

“Wee little Potter isn't so little where it counts, I see.” She cooed as she took his head into her mouth.

Harry couldn't moan, he couldn't do anything to react to the overwhelming pleasure as Bellatrix bobbed her head on his cock, taking him down her throat and sucking him down as she lightly squeezed his balls.

It actually was torture, being unable to twitch and squirm like he usually would when a gorgeous woman was servicing him. And for all her apparent insanity, Bellatrix had recovered much if not all of the beauty that Azkaban had taken from her.

Harry came down her throat and a whimper of pleasure echoed inside his mind.

His seed filled her mouth and Bellatrix jumped up giddily, running over to the bubbling cauldron and opening her mouth, letting globs of Harry's seed plop into the bubbling green liquid.

Bellatrix pulled back and the cauldron turned purple before letting off a cloud of thick smoke. When that smoke cleared, Harry was struck by the sight in front of him.

Lady Voldemort in all her glory. She was tall, with sleek inky black hair cascading down her shoulders and onto her back. Her face lacked a nose, and her skin was chalky white, while her irises were a blazing, unnatural crimson red surrounded by yellow sclera.

She did not look fully human, and yet, she was still hot as fuck.

Harry couldn't help the thought that came to his mind. She had large breasts in an otherwise lithe figure, and down between her legs was a well kept bush of black pubic hair.

“Robe me.” She ordered Bellatrix, who did so lovingly, though Voldemort's robe hung only loosely from her body, she kept the front slit open, showing off her luscious assets.

“Should we summon the others, mistress?” Bellatrix asked, holding out the forearm which held the Dark Mark.

“Only the inner circle, Bellatrix, none of the men.”

Bellatrix's smile showed her teeth as she giggled maniacally. Voldemort pressed her wand against Bellatrix's arm and the witch moaned in abject pleasure.

Pops of apparition were heard throughout the graveyard as a horrified Harry looked on.

A half dozen figures appeared. They were masked, but their curvy forms could not be hidden under their robes.

Voldemort chided her Death Eaters for abandoning her, for not searching for her like Bellatrix had. A few torture curses flew before she turned her focus on Harry.

The moment she freed him from his curse was the moment he sprang into action, not waiting for her to monologue at him any further. Voldemort was taken aback by the onslaught, but as talented as Harry was, Lady Voldemort had decades on him.

What followed was a struggle that showed that while Harry was above most, he was still not on the level of Voldemort or Dumbledore.

Harry sent a dozen gravestones flying at her, and Voldemort shattered them all with naught but a thought. He turned other gravestones into liquid cement, sending them tunneling under the ground towards the Dark Lady's feet, she stomped on the ground and a gusher of cement flew up in the sky, turned into thousands of tiny cement blades that went flying back towards Harry.

Harry summoned the bones from the graves and fashioned a full suit of body armor from them. He rushed towards the dark lady as the blades chipped away at his bone suit, she summoned four caskets turned iron maidens towards him from each side, Harry banished the bones at the caskets and triggered them to explode on contact.

On went their duel, and while Harry clearly impressed, he was always on the back foot.

When his wand clattered from his hand, Lady Voldemort was upon him, a look of glee on her face.

“Witness, my witches, how my so-called vanquisher grovels at my feet!”

Laughter rang across the graveyard as Harry looked up towards Lady Voldemort.

Even through all his exhaustion and fear, he couldn't help it.

Her pussy looked damn good.

She grabbed him by the head, and to his absolute shock, shoved his face into her muff.

“Pleasure me, Potter, and I'll spare your life this once.”

Harry's ears burned as the witches around them laughed. He tried to resist, but her musk was incredible, it was like Fleur's veela aura turned up to another level.

He licked, he began to feast on Voldemort's pussy. Her juices ran down his chin, and he drank from her quim as her nectar tasted like the sweetest of fruits. Her peach grew damper and damper as Voldemort rode his face.

She came, and her fluids splashed all over his face.

Voldemort let out a high, cold laughter as she pushed Harry onto the floor. She summoned the Triwizard cup, and before she dropped it on his chest, she left him with these parting words.

“Next time, Potter, I will not be so merciful.”

…

No one knew about it. Not Dumbledore, not Sirius, not even Fleur or Nym.

Harry had never felt so humiliated in his life, and yet he'd never felt so aroused.

Throughout all his life, he'd never received much information on the Death Eaters. This wasn't due to it being withheld from him, it was because no one knew.

Everyone assumed the Death Eaters were just a group of blood purists that followed a madwoman, and while this was true, no one knew a thing about their inner workings. Through all the trials, while individual crimes were able to be uncovered, the inner workings of the organization, who was above whom, were impossible to dig up. Voldemort had used some form of magic, something that kept that information secret, even under a legilimency attack from Dumbledore himself.

Harry had dug deep that summer, searching the Black family for any possible clues as to what was going on.

The ritual they had used to resurrect Voldemort, plus the fact that the Dark Lady had used his face as a form of humiliation, it all pointed towards Voldemort being heavily into sex magic.

After days of fruitless search, he'd not really found his answer. Some rituals fit aspects of the dynamic he saw, but not perfectly. Perhaps, the Dark lady had taken one of these same rituals and modified it for her own purposes.

It wasn't yet clear, but something did become clear.

If Harry was to defeat Voldemort, he would need followers. Even if he somehow managed to match her strength, he couldn't overcome getting ganged up on.

When Hermione had come to him with the idea of the DA, it had been the perfect opportunity.

She'd allowed him to look over the contract she'd drafted, and Harry had gone ahead and made some modifications to it, drawing from the rituals he'd read about in the Black library.

The DA was only a student association, nothing more nothing less. And yet, with each time they met, the magic in the contract would strengthen, until it hit a point where absolutely nothing would break it.

At that point, Harry would have an army of loyal followers who he had personally trained. And among them, there were a lot of sexy witches who would help Harry relieve some stress.

The next time he faced down Voldemort, he would ensure things would be different.