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Chapter Text

On a crisp, sunny day, Corban Yaxley and Luna Lovegood ventured into the heart of the muggle world, hidden among the crowds at a bustling amusement park. The Ministry had called upon Corban for a discreet mission, and he had decided to bring Luna along, a decision he was beginning to question as they stood in line for the Ferris wheel.

Corban had carefully chosen muggle-appropriate attire for jeans, sneakers, and plain t-shirts, utterly devoid of wizarding embellishments. However, Luna insisted on wearing glittering pink sunglasses and a whimsical, brightly colored scarf that clashed beautifully with her golden hair. Her sense of fashion remained as unique as ever.

As they waited their turn, Luna couldn't contain her excitement. "Corban, look at all the muggles enjoying themselves! It's such a wonderful, magical place."

Corban couldn't help but chuckle, his usual stern demeanor softened by Luna's childlike enthusiasm. "Yes, Luna, it's quite... magical."

When they finally boarded the Ferris wheel, Luna immediately started swaying in her seat, giggling as if she were on a broomstick. Corban, however, clutched the safety bar tightly, trying to hide his discomfort. The ascent was slow and steady, and Corban couldn't deny the breathtaking view of the amusement park and the surrounding area.

With her sense of adventure, Luna leaned closer to the edge of the cabin to get a better look. "Corban, look down there! They're like little ants."

Alarmed at her recklessness, Corban reached out to pull her back, but Luna danced away from his grasp, her playful spirit shining through. "Come on, Corban! Live a little! It's fun!" A group of muggle children beside the cabin couldn't help but stare at Luna's animated antics.

Corban's heart skipped a beat as he realized they were drawing attention. He leaned closer to Luna, his voice a hushed whisper. "Luna, we have to be careful. We can't reveal our true selves."

Luna blinked, her large, surprised eyes meeting Corban's. "Oh, right. I almost forgot." She settled back into her seat, her demeanor becoming more subdued.

As the Ferris wheel descended, Corban breathed a sigh of relief. Their encounter with the muggle children had been a close call. He glanced at Luna, who was now gazing out the window with a wistful expression.

Once they had safely disembarked, Corban led Luna away from the crowd to a quieter park area. He took her hand and smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Let's try something less conspicuous, shall we?"

Luna nodded, her playful spirit undiminished. They spent the rest of the day enjoying muggle rides, trying cotton candy, and even taking goofy pictures in a photo booth. Luna's childlike wonder and Corban's stoic presence created a unique harmony, allowing them to blend in with the muggles while sharing secret smiles and stolen moments.

Luna eventually dragged Corban into the Roller coaster's queue. He had been on many near-death experiences as a Death Eater and Head of DMLE, but this is a new fear. Corban is embarrassed to admit something that is comparable to his fear of The Dark Lord himself. He didn't notice he was even sitting in the coaster already, and the safety bars were being lowered. Corban's heart raced as the roller coaster lurched forward, and he clutched the safety bar with white-knuckled intensity. He had been prepared for many things as a Death Eater, but this was an entirely different kind of terror. The roller coaster climbed higher and higher, and Corban's stomach somersaulted with every inch of ascent.

Beside him, Luna was beaming, her hair whipping wildly in the wind. "It's just like playing Quidditch," she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Still frozen in fear, Corban managed to mumble, "I never played Quidditch."

Before he could say anything more, the roller coaster plummeted down a steep drop, and a scream involuntarily escaped his lips. On the other hand, Luna threw her hands in the air, letting out a joyful whoop.

As the roller coaster twisted and turned, Corban's face turned a shade paler than usual. He closed his eyes tightly, unable to bear the sensation of being thrown around like a ragdoll. Luna, however, continued to relish the exhilarating experience, her laughter and shouts of delight filling the air.

The ride seemed to go on forever for Corban, each loop and twist making him regret his decision more and more. He clung to the safety bar as if it were a lifeline, desperately counting the seconds until it would be over.

Finally, with a final heart-pounding loop, the roller coaster came to a screeching halt at the loading platform. Corban's hands were shaking as he unclenched his fingers from the safety bar, and he staggered as he disembarked from the ride, his face still a ghostly shade of white.

On the other hand, Luna hopped off the roller coaster with a huge grin. "Wasn't that fantastic, Corban? It's just like flying without a broom!"

Corban Yaxley, one of the most formidable Death Eaters in Voldemort's ranks, had just emerged from the roller coaster looking decidedly unimposing. His face was ashen, and he stumbled toward a nearby trash can, clutching his stomach. With her characteristic serenity, Luna followed him, offering a comforting hand on his back as he retched into the trash can.

Luna's words were sweet and encouraging, her voice filled with genuine concern. "You can do this, Honey."

Corban managed a weak, grateful smile between bouts of nausea. He certainly hadn't anticipated this turn of events when he had agreed to the amusement park date with Luna. After a few more heaves, he straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I... I think I'm done," he croaked, his pride wounded more than his stomach.

Luna handed him a tissue from her pocket and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "You were courageous, Corban. Roller coasters can be challenging, especially for someone who's never experienced them."

Corban chuckled weakly, finding Luna's unwavering support both endearing and perplexing. He had never imagined that someone like him would find comfort in the presence of someone so uniquely whimsical and caring.

With Luna's help, Corban managed to regain his composure. He straightened his clothes, cleared his throat, and offered Luna a sheepish grin. "Well, that was certainly an experience."

Luna smiled back, her eyes sparkling with affection. "It was, Corban. And now you can say you've conquered the roller coaster."

As they continued their day at the amusement park, Corban may not have conquered his fear of roller coasters. Still, he had undoubtedly conquered his reservations about letting Luna into his life. Her unwavering support and genuine care had chipped away at the walls he had built around himself, and he was beginning to realize that maybe there was room for a little more light and whimsy in his world. The day at the amusement park drew to a close, Luna Lovegood and Corban Yaxley found themselves seated on a bench, watching the colorful bursts of fireworks light up the night sky. With her distinctive scarf and giant bear won in a basketball game, Luna hugged the fluffy creature tightly, her eyes filled with wonder at the spectacle above.

Beside her, Corban couldn't help but smile as he watched Luna's childlike delight. He knew he had whispered a few spells to ensure he won that bear for her, but seeing her joy made the slight transgression worth it.

The fireworks painted intricate patterns in the sky, and Luna leaned her head on Corban's shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Despite his formidable reputation, Corban found himself feeling a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. Luna's presence had a way of softening his rough edges.

After the final burst of fireworks, as the night settled into a peaceful silence, Corban turned to Luna, his heart pounding with a different kind of anticipation. He reached out and gently tilted her chin upward, his eyes locking onto hers.

Luna looked up at him, her protuberant eyes filled with curiosity and affection. Corban leaned in slowly, closing the distance between them, and their lips met in a sweet and tender kiss. It was a kiss that promised something more, a connection that went beyond the chaos of their respective worlds.

As they broke the kiss, Luna smiled, her dreamy demeanor giving way to a genuine and affectionate expression. "Thank you for this wonderful day, Corban. I never imagined we'd have such an adventure."

Corban's usually stern features softened as he returned her smile. "The pleasure was mine, Luna. You've shown me a side of life I had long forgotten."

As they sat on that bench, Luna hugged her giant bear, and Corban held Luna's hand; they both realized that despite their differences, they had found something truly magical in each other's company, something worth holding onto in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the Hogwarts castle as Luna Lovegood emerged from the heavy wooden doors of the Ravenclaw common room. She had just finished her classes for the day, her mind filled with the mysteries and wonders of magical creatures she had been learning about. Luna's straggly, waist-length, dirty blonde hair caught the light, giving her an ethereal appearance as she crossed the courtyard.

On the other hand, Corban Yaxley was waiting by the castle entrance, his tall and imposing figure a stark contrast to Luna's whimsical demeanor. His long, pale blond hair was neatly braided, and he was dressed in his usual magnificent flowing robes, setting him apart from the students milling about. He checked his pocket watch impatiently, a habit he couldn't seem to break.

As Luna approached, her eyes, always with a hint of wonder, met Corban's sharp blue gaze. She greeted him with a serene smile, "Hello, Corban."

Corban nodded, his expression still somewhat stern, but softness in his eyes only seemed to appear when he looked at Luna. "Luna," he replied, his Glaswegian accent giving his voice a distinct charm. "Ready for our date?"

Luna's protuberant eyes sparkled with excitement. "Of course! I've been looking forward to it."

As they walked towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Luna began to talk about her day, her voice distant and dreamy. She spoke about the magical creatures she had learned about in class, her belief in the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and her latest observations on the elusive Nargles.

Corban listened attentively, his love for Luna evident in how he absorbed every word she said. Despite his stern exterior, Luna's quirkiness had a way of melting the hardness around his heart. He found her unconventional beliefs intriguing, and he admired her for her unwavering authenticity.

They arrived at a cozy spot deep within the forest, where Luna had set up a makeshift picnic. The Butterbeer cork necklace she wore caught the dappled sunlight, casting playful shadows on her face. Luna had brought an assortment of unusual snacks, including Crumple-Horned Snorkack-shaped cookies and a flask of Gurdyroot-infused tea.

Corban couldn't help but smile at Luna's distinct dottiness as they shared the peculiar treats. Her whimsical nature was a breath of fresh air in his otherwise serious life. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped gift box, offering it to Luna.

"For you," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Luna's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped it to reveal a delicate, enchanted necklace with a pendant shaped like a silver crescent moon. "Oh, Corban, it's beautiful! Thank you."

Corban's smile grew as he watched Luna put on the necklace. He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "You bring light and wonder into my life, Lass. I cherish every moment with you."

Luna blushed and nestled closer to Corban, their differences fading away in the embrace of their love. Underneath the serene surface and the haughty exterior, they had found a connection that was as magical as any creature Luna had ever believed in. As the sun dipped below the horizon, they continued their date, wrapped in the warmth of their unique and complementary personalities, finding love in the most unexpected places.

Chapter Text

Lucius Malfoy: Lucius Malfoy, though known for his haughty demeanor, possesses an undeniable charm regarding being a boyfriend. He exudes an air of sophistication, showering his partner with luxurious gifts and extravagant gestures. Lucius is fiercely protective, willing to go to great lengths to ensure the safety and happiness of his significant other. While his loyalty to the Dark Lord may raise eyebrows, his loyalty to his partner is unwavering. In private, he can be surprisingly tender, cherishing intimate moments and valuing the company of his loved one above all else.

Severus Snape: Severus Snape is a complex boyfriend who often keeps his emotions hidden behind a stoic façade. His intelligence and wit stimulate conversations, and he's a master at solving problems. While he may not always be overtly affectionate, his actions speak volumes. Snape is fiercely loyal, willing to sacrifice for the one he loves. He values honesty and authenticity in a relationship and appreciates a partner who can see past his rough exterior to the depths of his heart.

Barty Crouch Jr.: Barty Crouch Jr., despite his dark tendencies, can be an intensely passionate boyfriend. He's willing to take risks for the one he loves, often pushing boundaries to keep the relationship exciting. His sense of adventure and unpredictability can be alluring, but it also comes with a hint of danger. Barty is fiercely devoted to his partner, willing to do whatever it takes to make them happy, even if it means bending or breaking the rules. However, his allegiance to Voldemort may strain the relationship as his priorities lie with the Dark Lord.

Fenrir Greyback: Fenrir Greyback is a terrifying choice for a boyfriend, driven by his lycanthropic nature and bloodlust. His possessiveness and intensity can be overwhelming, as he often sees his partner as a possession rather than an equal. There is an undeniable wildness to his love, but it's tainted by his violent tendencies. He might display moments of protectiveness in his moments of humanity, but ultimately, the danger he represents overshadows any potential positives in the relationship.

Antonin Dolohov: Antonin Dolohov is a mysterious and enigmatic boyfriend. He possesses a dark, alluring charisma and a knack for making his partner feel unique and desired. However, his loyalty to Voldemort and involvement in dark magic can create tension in the relationship. Antonin is fiercely protective and will stop at nothing to ensure the safety of his loved one. Despite his involvement in dark deeds, he might attempt to shield his partner from the worst of it, showing a conflicted, caring side beneath his menacing exterior.

Scabior: Scabior is a rough and rugged boyfriend with a roguish charm. He's not one for grand gestures or eloquent speeches, but he expresses his affection through actions. His loyalty to the Snatchers and his association with dark forces may be a source of conflict, but he often sees his partner as a light source in a dark world. He's straightforward and unpretentious, valuing honesty and simplicity in the relationship. While he might not be the most conventional boyfriend, he brings authenticity and excitement to the partnership.

Corban Yaxley: Corban Yaxley is a disciplined and strategic boyfriend, often approaching the relationship with a calculated mindset. He values order and control, striving to provide stability and security to his partner. Yaxley cannot express his emotions openly, but his actions demonstrate his commitment and protection. His unwavering loyalty to Voldemort might be a point of contention, but he sees himself as a protector in a chaotic world. In his own way, he tries to bring structure and purpose to the relationship.

Chapter Text

Luna Lovegood, now in her final year at Hogwarts, had embarked on her internship at the Ministry of Magic as part of the newly implemented program. To her surprise, she had been placed under the supervision of Corban Yaxley, the formidable wizard known for his stern and blunt demeanor. As Luna sat at her desk in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a pile of paperwork loomed before her. She had been diligently working on it, but Corban's sudden question made her jump.

"Have you finished the paperwork I ordered you to do?" he asked, his gaze sharp as he side-eyed Luna.

Luna blinked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, um, not yet, Mr. Yaxley. I've been progressing, but there's much to go through."

Corban's expression remained unyielding as he leaned against a nearby desk. "Deadlines are important, Lovegood. We can't afford to be lax in our duties, even during an internship."

Luna nodded, her usual dreamy demeanor momentarily replaced by a more serious one. "I understand, Mr. Yaxley. I'll work as efficiently as I can to complete the paperwork."

Corban inclined his head, acknowledging her response. "Good. Remember, attention to detail is crucial in our line of work. We have high standards to maintain."

Corban left for most of the day, handling cases with his subordinates or communicating with other heads of the ministry. As he returned to his office, Luna struggled with the paperwork. Luna Lovegood's concentration had been wavering as she struggled with the complex paperwork on her desk. She had been so engrossed in trying to make sense of it all that she didn't notice Corban Yaxley's approach until he loomed behind her seat.

The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled the air as Corban leaned down to check her work. His presence was imposing, and Luna couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine as his warm breath brushed against her neck.

"I guess Ms. Lovegood's mind has been wandering, right?" Corban's voice, low and almost teasing, murmured in her ear.

Luna's cheeks flushed slightly as she turned to meet his gaze. "N-No, Mr. Yaxley, this has just been quite difficult for me," she replied truthfully, her eyes locking onto his.

Corban's face was now just inches away from hers, and Luna's heart raced at the proximity. He pointed out her mistakes on the paperwork precisely, his breath lingering in the air. Luna found herself oddly captivated by the scent of tobacco on his breath, a smell she would typically detest.

Her thoughts began to wander, and Luna couldn't help but entertain forbidden fantasies. 'Oh, how I'd like to kiss and taste him,' she thought, her mind drifting to places it shouldn't.

As Luna's heart fluttered, she reminded herself to focus on the task. Still, the presence of Corban Yaxley, so close and unexpectedly alluring, made it a challenge she hadn't anticipated.

"Are you listening to me, Ms. Lovegood?" Corban's voice cut through her reverie, making Luna freeze in her chair.

"Y-Yes, Mr. Yaxley," Luna stammered, her eyes wide as she turned her attention to her imposing boss.

"Clearly not," Corban replied with a sigh, his voice low and gruff. "Ye do know I'm a legilimens, right?"

Luna's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "N-No... Mr. Yaxley, Sir."

Corban leaned in closer, his sharp blue eyes locked onto hers. "Oh, how I'd like to kiss and taste him," he muttered, his voice a mere whisper.

Luna's heart skipped a beat as Corban seemed to read her very thoughts. Her eyes widened in shock, and she stammered, "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Yaxley, I didn't mean to-"

Corban interrupted her with a sly grin, his fingers trailing lightly along her forearm. Luna couldn't help but notice the contrast between his calloused fingertips and her soft skin, a detail that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Totally not thinking of something else while your boss is instructing you," Corban teased, his voice low and seductive. "You've got naughty thoughts if I say so myself."

Luna's face turned an even deeper shade of red as she tried to compose herself. She had never expected this turn of events during her internship, and Corban's teasing was unexpected and electrifying. She struggled to find her words, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and desires.

Corban's grin widened, and he leaned closer, his warm breath grazing Luna's ear. "But we have work to do, Ms. Lovegood. Let's try to keep those thoughts in check, shall we? Or would our Little Intern want to play?"

Luna felt something inside her warm up as she felt his breath on her ear; her thighs instinctively clenched and rubbed against each other.

"Ah- No self-relieving Ms. Lovegood," Yaxley said with a chuckle as he tapped her thigh. Luna whimpered by the mere heat of his touch.

Corban cast muffliato and coloportus at his office's door, ensuring their privacy. Not like Corban cares; he's the big boss of DMLE, but he'd rather not let anyone hear his little witch's whimpers other than him. He leaned down to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent of youth, his lips lightly grazing her skin, making her whole body shiver. A silent moan escaped her lips.

Corban's hand landed on Luna's thighs; her soft, silky skin contrasted with his rough, aged palm. He slowly caressed her as his lips planted feather-light kisses on the nook of her neck. Luna tightly held the chair she was sitting on, the heat on her core now undeniable as her juices stained her knickers.

"Open your legs for your Master, Pet." Corban huskily ordered, making Luna slightly freeze.

Pet.

The title made her melt that she instinctively slightly opened her legs for his hand to creep up her skirt. Corban felt his heart pound; the sight of her Hogwarts Uniform reminded him of his old days.

Merlin's sake, he graduated from that institution 18 years ago. And here's a witch staining his fingers with her juices, still about to graduate.

Corban cast a spell to remove all the things on the table that contained Luna's paperwork. He lifted her carefully and laid her down on the oak table. Her skirt is lifted to her stomach, exposing her wet knickers from her juices.

"You're so beautiful, too beautiful for your own good, Pet," Corban growled as he touched her gushing cunt; she whimpered and held his arm, not wanting him to stop his movements.

His blue eyes looked at Luna with pure lust as Corban sat on the chair Luna was sitting on. She whined from losing the feeling of his fingers on her cunt.

"Strip for me, Pet." Corban grinned as he slightly leaned forward while Luna slowly sat up. She looked at him. "You hear me." He growled.

Luna slowly nodded. Her fingers slowly moved on, removing her blue and silver necktie and then her blazer, her polo slowly coming undone as she unbuttoned it. Corban almost practically salivated at the sight of the little witch he had been eyeing for the whole duration of her OJT. He smiled menacingly as his eyes scanned her small perky tits, her pink nipples already erect. She blushed while her arms covered her chest from embarrassment.

"Don't cover yourself, lass. You'll never attract me if yer not remotely attractive." Corban said as he removed her arms that covered her perky tits. His calloused fingers immediately tugged her sensitive nipples, making her gasp and bury her face at his neck. His sandalwood scent engulfed her senses.

He smells so elegant, so mature, so... Addicting. How'd she love to wake up to his scent every day?

"Well, I'd let you wake up to my scent daily. Do you think this is a one-time thing?" Corban answered, still using his legilimency to read her thoughts.

Luna whimpered as his hand lightly slapped her perky tits. "I hope it's not." She whispered, which made Yaxley smirk. His lips clashed with hers as he took her breath away. His hands roamed around her body, settling at the dip of her waist.

Tobacco. He tastes like tobacco and mint. She hated the smell of the first one, and yet that taste of his mouth made her so needy of him. She pulled him closer, his body pressing on hers; she could feel the intricate embroidery of his robes.

Merlin, she wants to disrobe him. She wants to see his physique. She saw what he was hiding underneath the tent forming on his trousers, but just as her hands reached out to remove his clothes, she felt invisible ropes tie her hands at either end of the table. She whimpered at how much she wanted to touch him, how much she tried to trail her fingers on his chest.

Oh Merlin he's toned. He's not muscly, nor does he have visible abs, but one can see the defined body of the Head Auror. "Liking your view, lass?" Corban smirked before he slapped her exposed cunt, making Luna whimper.

"So little time, my dear. I got a meeting with bloody Malfoy in 30 minutes." He grumbled as he unbuckled his belt, the trousers slowly falling to his ankles. Oh fuck, he's bigger than Luna had expected. His cock's head has a tasty red shade. "Beg for me, Pet." He growled as he rested his forehead on hers. His cock slid along her slit and teased her engorged clit.

Luna moaned like a bitch in heat. Her juices covered and lubricated his pulsing cock. "Please, Mr. Yaxley." She whimpered.

"What?" He whispered on her lips.

"M-Master, please, fuck–." She screamed as she felt his whole cock's length sheath inside her in one go. Her legs shook as her pussy tightened around him, as he paused from moving for a few seconds. Corban groaned her name as her inside slightly gripped his cock; he was so focused on not cum inside her when he hadn't even pumped yet.

Soon enough, the Office of the Head of DMLE is filled with sacrilegious noises. His balls hit her puckered ass repeatedly as he relentlessly moved his hips. His mouth immediately went to nibbling and sucking Luna's erect nipples. Her eyes rolled at the back of her head as she arched her back when Yaxley bit her sensitive nipples. Her core started to tighten around him, threatening to explode anytime.

"Corban!" She screamed out and bit her lower lip as he hit her spot. It felt so good her sight got spotty.

Yaxley grinned menacingly as he heard her whimper his name. It sounds so beautiful in his ears. His hand that was gripping her hips slowly went to his throbbing nub. She squirmed under his touch, and with just a few circular strokes, she came undone. She screamed his name as her juices went gushing out. Her cunt throbbed and tightened around him, yet he didn't stop his assault. His finger moved in circles around her nub, and her hips did not stop. She's overstimulated, her whole body going limp.

"One more, Pet. Master's almost done." He growled in her ear as his thumb went erratic around her nub, his movements unyielding and erratic.

"Master, please cum inside me." Luna whimpered, which made Yaxley curse out and shiver. he jerked forward one last time, and they came simultaneously, her juices and his mixed. His cock throbbed as he painted her womb with his seed.

"Fuck, you're incredible, Luna." He whispered, calling her by name for the first time in their encounter as he peppered her lips with feather-light kisses.

"Sir, Mr. Malfoy will arrive in 5 minutes," Luna whispered before squealing as he slowly pulled out. His cum spilling out of her.

Yaxley stood over her for a few seconds before he removed her incarcerous he cleaned up himself and let Luna wear her clothes again. He fixed the table again, just like before their encounter.

"Don't clean up my cum inside you, pet." He whispered before kissing her temple. He sat back in his chair as if nothing happened.

Luna was about to sit when Lucius Malfoy arrived. His nose slightly twitched for a second before turning to Corban. She can't imagine the Malfoy Patriarch coming a few minutes earlier.

"You seem to have your office organized, finally," Lucius commented.

"Oh, I got a great assistant after all." Corban said, a double entendre.

Luna slightly blushed as she resumed her work. Her cunt still dribbling with her Boss' cum.

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger’s internship in the Ministry of Magic was crucial for her aspirations and future career ambitions. With her stellar scores in her N.E.W.Ts, she set her eyes on becoming the future Minister of Magic, if fate would have it. Dating the formidable Lucius Malfoy had undoubtedly boosted her social standing. Still, it grated on her that she had to continually remind Lucius not to use his influence to secure favors in her department.

"Well, I'm merely attempting to provide you with a slight nudge in the right direction, my dear," Lucius calmly replied as he sipped his tea when Hermione broached the issue.

"But I want to earn promotions based on my own merit," she argued, her determination unwavering.

Lucius leaned forward, his silvery hair gleaming in the soft light of their elegant dining room. "Hermione," he began, his tone gentle yet persuasive, "I admire your determination and unwavering commitment to excellence. However, the Ministry is a complex web of politics and connections. Sometimes, a strategic alliance can make all the difference in advancing your career."

Hermione sighed, knowing that there was a grain of truth in Lucius's words. The wizarding world was not always fair, and nepotism and favoritism often affected career progression. Still, her spirit rebelled against compromising her principles and had other people think that she was using Lucius’ power and influence to secure a position in the Ministry.

"I understand you, Lucius, but I want to prove I can rise through the ranks alone. Plus you kept donating new furniture in my office," she said firmly.

Lucius leaned in, his voice softening as he made his case. "Hermione, darling, you deserve the very best. I can't bear to see you working in less-than-ideal conditions. My contributions, anonymous as they are, are merely a token of my affection and admiration for you."

Hermione couldn't help but be touched by his words. While determined to succeed independently, she realized Lucius genuinely cared for her well-being. "I appreciate your concern, Lucius. But I want to be respected for my abilities, not for the comforts you provide."

Lucius chuckled, his fingers gently tracing the rim of his teacup. "You are indeed a remarkable woman, Darling. And I respect your principles. But don't mistake my actions for an attempt to undermine your abilities. I have faith in your talents, and I'm merely trying to create an environment where you can thrive."

“You really can’t understand my ‘No,’ huh? I just don’t want to be in debt to you.” Hermione chuckled.

“In this department, yes. I just want what’s best for you, Darling.” Lucius said as he patted his lap. “You can start paying your supposed debts to me by sitting on my lap.” He said with a playful smirk.

“You’re insufferable, Malfoy.” Hermione rolled her eyes and still perched herself on his lap, her hand running through her silvery hair.

Lucius couldn't help but grin as Hermione settled herself onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, relishing the closeness. "You know, Hermione, it's not a debt if it's freely given," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Hermione laughed, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. "You always find a way to get what you want, right?"

"Only when what I want is you," Lucius replied, his voice low and filled with desire, her lips slowly landing on his. A simple gesture that connected their hearts and their ambitions.

Chapter Text

Lucius Malfoy:
After an intense BDSM session, Lucius Malfoy leads you to a lavish bathroom, where a warm, scented bath awaits. Lucius fills the bath with perfectly heated water, adding fragrant rose petals. He then kneels beside the tub, gently washing your hair and massaging your shoulders with skillful hands. Afterward, he wraps you in a plush robe, ensuring your comfort, and serves you a glass of fine champagne by a roaring fire.

Severus Snape:
Severus Snape, his stern exterior softened, guides you to a cozy nook in his private quarters after marking you as his, welts from your rough play marred your skin. He settles you comfortably against the soft cushions, offering a cup of herbal tea. Severus watches over you attentively, occasionally brushing a stray hair from your face as you rest, ensuring your well-being and comfort.

Barty Crouch Jr.:
In a secluded, dimly lit room, Barty Crouch Jr. reveals a surprising tenderness. After trying Shibari for the first time, he carefully tends to your needs. He dims the lighting, plays soft music, and brings you a tray of refreshments, including fresh fruit and cool water. He sits beside you, holding your hand and engaging in quiet conversation, making sure you feel cherished and cared for, even in the aftermath of passion.

Fenrir Greyback:
In the aftermath of an intense mating with Fenrir Greyback, his knotting makes you physically weak. His sheer girth and size broke you. Seeing his mate weakened, he leads you to a warm and comfortable den deep within the Forbidden Forest. He tends to your minor scratches or bites with a healing salve, his touch surprisingly gentle. Fenrir then wraps you in a warm, fur-lined blanket and sits close, his protective presence ensuring your safety as you rest together by the flickering light of a campfire.

Corban Yaxley:
Corban Yaxley, always composed and attentive, gently carried you to his bed after he fucked you on his mansion’s balcony. He massaged your back and thighs all by himself. He personally chose the essential oils he used for you, ensuring your comfort and relaxation. Tending to your stiff muscles. Afterward, he presents you with a meal, a warm soup, and your favorite dessert.

Chapter Text

In Hogwarts's dimly lit, dungeon-like classroom, tension hung like a heavy, foreboding mist. Professor Moody, or Barty Crouch Jr., was clearly seething beneath his grizzled exterior. Hermione Granger, the young witch with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, had managed to irritate him again. It was no secret that Barty disdained being corrected by his students, especially those he regarded as "Mudbloods."

As the echo of his sinister lesson on the Three Unforgivable Curses reverberated through the room, Hermione couldn't remain silent. Her voice, though trembling with anxiety, held a fierce determination. "Professor Moody, I don't think it is right to teach these curses," she asserted, her gaze firmly locked on the grim, battered face of Neville Longbottom. The poor boy appeared as if he'd seen a ghost, visibly shaken by the horrors he'd just learned about. The Cruciatius Curse, in particular, had struck terror into Neville's heart, his mind grappling with the horrifying notion that his parents had endured such unimaginable torment.

Barty Crouch Jr., his lips dry and cracked, struggled to contain his rage. The urge to unleash the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione was a consuming temptation that gnawed at his very soul. The darkness within him longed to see her writhe in pain, hear her screams, and witness her surrender to the unrelenting torment. But he knew he couldn't act on these impulses, at least not in this disguise. Maintaining the façade of the grizzled Auror, Mad-Eye Moody, was essential to their sinister plot.

A crooked smile twisted across Barty's face as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with a venomous sweetness. "Ah, Miss Granger, always so eager to speak your mind, aren't you? These curses are part of our world, whether you like it or not. You'll find that knowing your enemy's weapons is sometimes the best defense. Perhaps you'll appreciate that the next time you're faced with a Death Eater."

Hunched in his chair, Neville flinched at the mention of Death Eaters. His grip on the desk tightened, and a solitary tear traced a path down his dirt-stained cheek. Hermione's brow furrowed, her concern for her friend overwhelming her fear of Professor Moody. "But, Professor, isn't it our duty to ensure we use our magic for good and not harm others? How can we protect ourselves if we resort to such evil?"

Barty's facade faltered briefly, revealing a glint of exasperation. Yet, he quickly regained his composure, his magical eye twitching unnervingly. "Miss Granger, there's a fine line between good and evil in this world, often blurred by our choices. Understanding the darkness that exists is vital to preserving the light. Knowledge is power, and it's your responsibility as a witch to wield it wisely."

As Hermione continued to argue her point, Barty Crouch Jr. seethed beneath the surface, his desire for vengeance simmering like a cauldron of boiling potion. In the shadows of the classroom, the line between teacher and predator grew ever thinner, and the fate of these young students hung in the balance.

The tension in the classroom was palpable, the air thick with animosity. Barty Crouch Jr., hidden behind the persona of Professor Moody, had reached his breaking point with Hermione Granger's relentless pursuit of knowledge. He had warned her, and now it was time to take action.

"One more time, you spoke out of turn, Ms. Granger, and I may have to send you to detention," Barty's voice was cold and unyielding, his patience worn thin. The room fell into a heavy silence as the other students watched nervously, their curiosity piqued by the impending confrontation.

But Hermione, undeterred and fiercely resolute, refused to back down. Her voice, determination, and concern for her classmates cut through the tension. "Professor Moody, these curses are dark and dangerous. We need to learn why they're forbidden and the consequences they bring. We need context and ethics, not just the incantations."

Barty's magical fake eye whirred lightly, casting eerie shadows on his face. He had anticipated her defiance and was ready to end it. "Snape's words are really true. You're an insufferable know-it-all," he hissed through clenched teeth, his thinly veiled anger escaping as venomous words. "See you in detention."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Barty's decision hung in the air. Hermione's jaw tightened, her frustration evident in her clenched fists. She had pushed too far, and now she was facing the consequences. Slowly, she nodded, her eyes burning with unspoken determination and a touch of defiance.

—--------

Detention with Professor Moody was an intimidating prospect. The stories of his grueling, unorthodox methods had circulated throughout the school, and it was an experience students dreaded. Yet, Hermione remained undeterred. She was driven by a sense of justice and determination to ensure her fellow students received a complete education encompassing magic's light and dark aspects.

The dimly lit dungeons of Hogwarts seemed to breathe with a life of their own, a quiet malevolence that lingered in the air. Hermione Granger had been given detention with Professor Moody, though she had no idea that the man before her was not the real Mad-Eye Moody. This was Barty Crouch Jr., a Death Eater masquerading as an Auror, a wolf among sheep.

The flickering torches cast eerie, elongated shadows that danced upon the cold stone walls, creating a haunting backdrop for the clandestine meeting. Hermione's footsteps echoed as she followed the imposter deeper into the labyrinthine passages, each step sending shivers down her spine. It was a chilling reminder of the darkness within the castle's walls.

The fake Moody led Hermione to a small, underground chamber, its stone walls lined with bookshelves containing ancient and forbidden tomes. A cold, iron chair stood ominously in the center of the room, the kind of chair designed for discomfort, a stark contrast to the usually cozy common room chairs she was accustomed to.

With a voice that was far more sinister than Professor Moody's, Barty sneered, "Take a seat, Miss Granger." His magical eye whirred as he watched her every movement, its piercing gaze seemingly dissecting her soul.

Hermione sat down, her heart pounding in her chest. The situation was perilous, and she couldn't afford to show weakness. She had been to detention before, but this was different. She was alone with a man she knew to be a Death Eater, and her survival depended on her wits and knowledge.

The imposter Moody paced in front of her, his voice laced with sadistic amusement. "You're clever, Hermione Granger, and you're right to question how I teach. But there's more to learn than what's in books." He stopped abruptly, his magical eye-locking onto her like a vulture eyeing its prey. "Knowledge can be a weapon, but so can silence."

Hermione's brow furrowed, her mind racing to decipher his cryptic message. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with anxiety.

Barty's lips curled into a wicked smile as he leaned in closer. His breath was stale and carried a sinister edge. "I can offer you something that books cannot, Miss Granger. A deeper understanding of the dark arts. A way to protect yourself and your friends, a path to survival in a world where darkness looms."

Hermione's eyes widened with a mixture of fear and intrigue. She was tempted, despite herself. The allure of knowledge, even forbidden knowledge, tugged at her like a forbidden fruit. But she knew the cost of dealing with the devil. "I won't become a part of your twisted world," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I'll stick to my principles, no matter what."

Barty Crouch Jr. had bided his time, using the guise of Professor Moody to unnerve Hermione. But now, with a sinister grin, he lunged forward and snatched her wand from her hand, his movements fluid and precise. "My dear, you are a thorn in my side," he purred, his voice dripping with deceit as he twirled her wand between his fingers.

Hermione's eyes narrowed anger and fear battling for dominance within her. "Give that back," she demanded, trembling only slightly.

Barty's laughter was cold, like the clammy grip of a Dementor. "Or what, Hermione? Will you cry for help like your friends could save you from me?"

He disarmed her swiftly with a flick of his wrist, leaving her stunned. Panic coursed through her, but she refused to show it. Instead, she held her chin high, meeting Barty's gaze with a defiant fire in her eyes. The effect of the polyjuice potion slowly melting.

The sinister wizard took a step closer, invading her personal space. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear. "I must admit, Hermione, I've always admired your intellect and determination," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "You're a brilliant witch, but you've chosen the wrong side."

Hermione's heart raced as Barty's proximity and menacing words played havoc with her emotions. She fought the rising panic that threatened to consume her, and she couldn't help but be aware of the allure of power that radiated from him, making it hard to resist.

Barty's fingers grazed her cheek, a touch so tender that it sent a chill down her spine. "I can offer you knowledge beyond your wildest dreams," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers with an almost hypnotic intensity. "Imagine the power, the magic you could wield, Hermione, as my apprentice. Or maybe not just in magic? Maybe something as simple as being in my bed." He said in a husky tone.

"I'll never join your kind, never be a part of your darkness," she spat, her voice filled with anger and defiance.

"Unfortunately, My Dear, I don't accept 'No' as an answer," Barty sneered, his voice dripping with malicious intent. His magical eye glinted with a dark gleam as he cast the Incarcerous spell with a flick of his wand. Thick, rough ropes erupted from thin air, ruthlessly binding Hermione to the iron chair.

Her heart raced as she struggled against her restraints, the realization that her dire situation had just taken a horrifying turn settling in. "You can't do this," she gasped, her voice laced with desperation.

Barty's sinister grin widened as he loomed over her, his power and madness palpable. "Oh, but I can, Hermione. And I will." With a cruel flourish of his wand, he summoned the memory of pain and despair that accompanied the Crucio curse. The room seemed to darken as he unleashed the vile magic, and Hermione's scream of agony cut through the heavy air.

The room's shadows danced wildly as Hermione writhed in her restraints, her body contorting in pain as the curse tortured her very being. Her thoughts became a chaotic jumble of terror, desperation, and unimaginable suffering.

Barty's laughter, cold and mirthless, mingled with Hermione's cries. "How about we try 2 out of 3 Unforgivable curses?" he taunted, his sadistic glee intensifying. He released the Crucio curse without a pause and menacingly whispered the incantation for the Imperius Curse.

Hermione's body, still aching from the previous torment, now moved at his command. Her limbs, no longer under her control, rose and fell at Barty's behest. She was nothing more than a puppet in his hands, forced to dance to the tune of her tormentor.

Tears blurred Hermione's vision as she fought to maintain some semblance of her will and sanity. She knew that the third Unforgivable Curse, the Avada Kedavra, could be her death sentence, and she needed to find a way to escape this nightmarish ordeal.

"I want you to beg. Go on, beg," Barty whispered in her ear, his voice a sinister caress. His breath was cold and carried the stench of malevolence as he revealed his power over her. His magical eye bore into her with a sadistic intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks, a testament to her unbearable torment. Her strong spirit had always been her shield, but now, under the Imperius Curse's cruel influence, she was left defenseless. She tried to fight the words forming in her throat, the ones Barty wanted to hear, but her willpower had been utterly overpowered.

"Please, stop," she begged, her voice quivering with pain, fear, and desperation. Her words were not her own but a heart-wrenching plea extracted from her by her malevolent captor.

Barty's sadistic grin widened, a macabre satisfaction washing over him as he watched her anguish. The power he wielded as a wizard and predator intoxicated him. Bony and cold fingers brushed away the tears that stained her face, his touch sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Good girl," he purred, his voice a cruel mockery of kindness. The relief was like a double-edged sword, for while the pain ceased, the realization of her utter powerlessness in the face of such darkness remained. She felt violated and humiliated, her spirit bruised but far from broken.

Hermione, manipulated like a marionette, sank to her knees with a grace that belied the turmoil within her. The Death Eater, an embodiment of darkness and malice, seized a handful of her lustrous dark brown hair, yanking her head towards him. Their eyes locked in a twisted dance of power and despair, Hermione's once-bright gaze meeting his ominous one.

"Beautiful," Barty Crouch Jr. purred, his voice oozing menace as it reverberated in the gloom of the dimly lit chamber. His fingers tightened around Hermione's hair, causing her scalp to smolder with a searing pain. His words dripped with contempt, emphasizing his belief in the superiority of purebloods. "Right where you belong," he continued, his lips curling into a sinister smile, "at the feet of your pureblood lord."

Hermione's body trembled as she struggled to maintain her composure, her heart pounding. She was trapped, caught in a web of darkness, and her impending fate pressed down upon her like a heavy shroud. Barty's menacing presence was overwhelming, and she had to find a way to escape this grim puppetry, to break free from his cruel grasp and defy the darkness that threatened to consume her. She almost collapsed as Barty released the  Imperius' hold on her. His eyes gleamed with dangerous edge as Hermione slightly drooled from confusion and pain.

"I prefer seeing you struggle and beg me to stop then being compliant," Barty whispered before licking her cheeks and jawline.

Hermione's body trembled as she fought to regain control over her own will, her heart a thunderous drumbeat within her chest. The darkness seemed to tighten its grip around her, an oppressive shroud threatening to smother her hope and resilience. She could still feel the lingering echoes of Barty's presence, a looming malevolence that had woven its way into her very being.

With a shuddering breath, Hermione's mind began to clear as the hold of the Imperius Curse loosened its vise-like grip. She blinked through the haze of confusion, focusing on the menacing figure before her. The pain still radiated through her body, but she was no longer a puppet in his cruel play.

Barty leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with a sinister edge that sent a fresh wave of fear through her veins. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, a twisted intimacy that made her stomach churn. A droplet of cold sweat trickled down her temple, a testament to the horror of her ordeal.

"I prefer seeing you struggle and beg me to stop then being compliant," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress against her ear. Hermione could taste the moment's bitterness, her indignation burning like a beacon of defiance even as she felt violated by his actions. His moist tongue grazed her cheeks and jawline, sending an icy shiver down her spine.

“Go on, lassie, serve your master.” Barty Jr. said as he dragged her back to her knees, her hands fumbling as she slowly removed his belt. His trousers fell to his knees; Hermione’s heart pounded fast as Barty didn’t hesitate to pull his boxers down. His half-hard cock almost slapping Hermione’s cheeks.

Hermione fervently shook her head, no, but Barty tightly held her cheeks. “Open your mouth fucking Mudblood, don’t you dare bite.” Barty Jr. said as he forcefully inserted his flaccid cock into her mouth. Her saliva dripped down her chin; Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to disassociate, but Barty Jr. slapped her cheek hard. “Open your eyes and look at my eyes.” He glared and made Hermione slowly open her teary eyes as she moved her head through his length.

He smelled fetid; the scent of his leather jacket and jeans clung to his skin. Hermione gagged and forced her head away, but Barty Jr. held her head as his cock expanded and hardened in her mouth. Just seeing her teary-eyed and suffering is enough to turn him on. “This is your first time?” He smirked as he held Hermione in place while slowly moving his hips. Hermione looked up through her teary eyes; she slowly nodded, almost gagging as Barty’s cock hit the back of her throat; his moan and grunt sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.

“Fucking hell bitch, if this is your first time, I wonder how great you’ll be once I trained you.” He said in between groans that made Hermione weak.

Train her?

“Swirl your dam tongue.” He ordered. Hermione tried to swirl her tongue at his cock’s head while he bucked his hips deeper down her throat. “That’s it, you little slut.” He whispered.

Barty’s movements slowly became erratic; Hermione’s scalp stung harder as he used it to control her head like she was nothing but his living fleshlight. His untamed pubic hair covered her nose as he kept moving her head; her saliva coated her chin and the floor beneath them. His salty and bitter pre cum made her gag on top of his relentless assault on her mouth. Hermione’s small jaw started to hurt whenever Barty slapped her.

“Look at that face; I wonder what Potter and Weasley will think of their friend if they see how much of a fucking slut you are.” Barty Jr. said before spitting on her face.

Barty felt his cock twitch as he continually assaulted her mouth. His blue eyes watched Hermione’s despair; each tear brought him closer to euphoria. His mouth threw a slew of curses and lewd insults. His tongue licked his lips like he always did whenever he was nervous or happy, and he’s definitely the latter now. “F-uck. Fuck. Your mouth is heavenly, you fucking mudblood bitch.” He roared as he held her head tightly in place; his cock tightened and twitched as it spewed his cum into Hermione’s throat; some of his spunk shot out her nose, making Barty insanely grin. He held her aching scalp in place, his impaled cock on her throat suffocating her. Her once pink lips slowly turned blue.

Barty Finally let her go; Hermione collapsed into a ball as she gasped for breath. Barty leaned down to her. “See you later, you filthy bitch.” He said before licking her lips.”Obliviate.”

Chapter Text

Hermione sat at the cozy corner of Flourish and Blotts, her favorite bookstore, engrossed in a thick volume of ancient runes. She was surrounded by towers of books, her wand occasionally flipping pages as she read. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her, and she looked up to see Sirius, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hello there, bookworm," Sirius said with a grin, leaning over her shoulder.

Hermione smiled and closed her book. "Sirius, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Harry and Ron?"

"Harry and Ron can manage without me for a bit," Sirius replied. "I thought I'd come and steal you away for a little adventure."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Adventure? What kind of adventure?"

Sirius took her hand and led her out of the bookstore. He apparated them to a beautiful clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"The Forbidden Forest? Sirius, we shouldn't be here," she exclaimed, but her heart raced excitedly.

"Don't worry, I've got it all under control," Sirius said with a wink. He had prepared a picnic with charmed fairy lights, a blanket, and a basket of Hermione's favorite treats.

As they settled to eat, the evening sky transformed into a stunning array of colors as the sun began to set. Hermione couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty of nature despite her initial reservations.

Sirius, always the daredevil, began to tell stories of his adventures, embellishing details and adding a touch of humor that made Hermione laugh. He recounted his pranks at Hogwarts and the escapades with the Marauders. At the same time, Hermione listened with rapt attention, admiring his bravery and sense of mischief. Her brown eyes remained staring at his gray orbs.

After their meal, Sirius conjured a small bonfire, and they roasted marshmallows, sharing stories late into the night. Hermione felt her heart swell with warmth, both from the fire and Sirius's company. Their hands intertwined as Sirius traced circles on top of her hand.

As the night grew darker, Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, shimmering box. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. He opened it to reveal a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like an open book.

"Sirius, it's beautiful," Hermione said in her emotion-filled voice.

"It reminded me of my little bookworm," Sirius explained. "You can also open it and put a lock of my hair or crookshanks’, I can never compete with him." 

Hermione embraced him tightly, feeling grateful for the thoughtful gesture. They held each other close, feeling the warmth of the fire and the connection between their hearts.

“I love you, Sirius Black,” Hermione whispered to his lips as he invaded her lips, almost inhaling her air.

“And I, You,” Sirius whispered back to her.

Chapter Text

Hermione tried to remember how she'd gotten into this situation, then Remus pinched her nipple, and all coherent thought was lost in the pleasure-pain sensation. How did she get entangled in this again? Ah, yes, another fight with Ronald Weasley. It doesn't help that Harry is quite busy chasing Cho Chang these days, so she's mostly alone. She found herself hanging out with the two older wizards, and soon enough, she was now between them.

Moaning softly, she tilted her head back, her senses tingling as she sensed the solid presence of Remus' shoulder beneath her. He pressed himself firmly against her back, his hardened member gliding sensually between the supple curves of her butt cheeks. With one hand possessively gripping her hip, his other hand caressed and fondled one of her tits. His scorching breath enveloped the delicate curve of her ear, and in an instant, his teeth ensnared her lobe, clamping down with an unyielding grip.

Sirius leaned in close to her, his lips moving in a rhythmic pattern as he nibbled, sucked, and licked her other breast. His hand worked with intensity between her thighs. He did this to ensure that no one would be able to surpass him; he is competitive even with his beloved as a rival. He fiercely kissed her, making a clicking sound with his teeth as he shook her hair out of his eyes. His thumb rubbed across her clit, sending a shock wave down her leg. Hermione knew she could not stand alone without Remus's carrying her from behind. Her legs shook wildly as Sirius pushed a finger up inside her.

"You're so bloody wet," he whispered against her quivering lips, his mouth hungrily capturing the delicate tip of her tongue.

Another hand sneaked around from behind her, and Remus took over, manipulating her clit. The graceful dance of his slender fingers, so exquisitely distinct from the touch of Sirius, sent shivers of ecstasy coursing through her very core. "You are such a slut, Hermione," Remus whispered sensually into her delicate ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. With a gentle nip on her lobe, he teased her. "You should cum for us. Does Ron and Harry know how much of a whore you are?"

Sirius' fingers lovingly curled inside her cunt; the sheer pleasure almost consumed Hermione's very being. She let a moan as she fiercely gripped his broad, muscular shoulders, leaving her claw marks on Sirius' shoulders. She languidly leaned against Remus, her senses heightened as she observed Sirius sensually savoring the taste on his fingers, his tongue tasting every drop of her juices. Remus pressed himself against her butt cheeks, his throbbing cock teasingly grazing her delicate flesh. Each tantalizing stroke left a glistening trail of pre-cum. Sirius' let out his cock from his pants, its head glistening and slightly twitching from enthusiasm.

Licking her lips, Hermione said, "Please," She whispered as she helped Sirius aim his cock at her dripping wet cunt; she badly wanted to be filled up by a cock almost twice her age. She never expected this thing to ever happen to her.

"Ah, patience, my dear," Sirius teased as his cock slowly slid into her wet folds while Remus' cock prodded at her ass. Hermione needily whimpered.

Remus squeezed her breast again, shifting his weight forward so he could keep in contact with her body, his cock's head slowly entering her ass, making the young Gryffindor squeal and squirm from the pain of having such a large intruder behind her. "See, Sirius? Sharing isn't bad."

Hermione kissed Sirius again, trying to ease the pain from her behind as Remus was fully sheathed inside her ass. Remus' hands skimmed down her sides, cupping her butt, pulling her tighter against him as he sheathed deep inside her almost in one go; her body shook from both pain and pleasure. Sirius slowly moved, lifting her leg up as his cock's head slowly entered her dripping wet cunt. She gasped as he slowly pushed himself in and out, the pain gradually diminishing and turning into a pleasure that made her see stars.

Hermione moaned loudly as both Remus and Sirius slowly moved inside her, one behind and the other in front. They both held her tight, and their lips moved against her skin. Hermione threw her head back, her eyes closing tightly as they thrust harder and faster, her orgasm building steadily, and the pleasure was so intense that her entire body felt as if it was on fire.

With a shout, Sirius came, filling her with his seed, and moments later, Remus followed, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he spent himself. Hermione felt their orgasms trigger her own, and her inner walls clamped down hard on Sirius, milking him dry.

After a moment, Sirius gently withdrew, and Remus pulled away. They moved off to the side, and Hermione lay on her back, her legs slightly parted, trying to catch her breath. She had no idea how long it would take her to recover from this experience.

The next time Hermione blinked, she was already in a bed; Sirius was sitting on Remus' lap, his arms around Remus' chest, holding him tight. Her two friends were kissing over her shoulder, and Sirius was running his hands over Remus' chest, teasing Remus' nipples.

"Say, 'Mione, have you ever thought of doing this with Harry and Ron?" Sirius asked as his hand slowly stroked Remus' cock, who whimpered under his touch. Hermione shook her head no. "Great, you must remain ours, then." He growled at her ear.

"I think I can make myself amenable to sharing," she murmured.
Sirius chuckled, and Remus groaned as Sirius' hands worked magic on his body.

"Are you ready for another round then?" Sirius asked with a grin.

Chapter Text

The full moon hung like a glowing orb in the star-studded sky as Sirius revved the engine of his vintage motorcycle. With a mischievous glint, he looked over at Hermione, who stood a little apprehensive but curious, by his side.

"Come on, Hermione, let's go for a ride!" Sirius exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione hesitated, looking at the powerful machine and then back at Sirius. "On that? It's late, and it's my school night."

"Ah, but that's precisely why it's the perfect time for an adventure," Sirius replied, his enthusiasm infectious.

With a mix of reluctance and excitement, Hermione climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around Sirius's waist. He took off, the wind rushing past them, causing Hermione's hair to flutter wildly in the night air.

At first, Hermione held on tightly, her heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. But as they sped along, the cool breeze and the sense of freedom began to ease her worries. The world felt different from the back of a roaring motorcycle, and she couldn’t help but find herself enjoying the thrill.
“I can feel something poke on my back.” Sirius quipped which made Hermione hit his shoulder.

“Pervert!” She shrieked just as Sirius took a sharp turn.

Sirius steered them through winding roads, guiding the bike with skill and confidence. They rode past darkened fields and quiet villages, the moon casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. Hermione found herself leaning into the adventure, the initial apprehension fading away, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and a growing fondness for this impromptu escapade.

Sirius pointed out constellations in the sky, naming them with an air of familiarity that Hermione found endearing. He shared stories of his travels, his laughter echoing in the night.

They eventually reached a picturesque hill overlooking a tranquil lake. Sirius parked the motorcycle, and they settled on the grass, the moonlight casting a soft glow on their surroundings.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed, looking at the shimmering water under the moon's radiance.

Sirius smiled, watching her with adoration. "Not as beautiful as you, My Girl."

They sat there, side by side, talking about everything and nothing. Hermione felt a sense of peace and joy in Sirius's company, his adventurous spirit blending surprisingly well with her more cautious nature. The night felt magical, as if time stood still just for them.

As the night waned, Sirius helped Hermione back onto the motorcycle, and they headed back towards Hogwarts. The rush of wind and the closeness of Sirius made Hermione feel alive and free in a way she had never experienced before.

They arrived back at the castle just before dawn. Hermione dismounted the bike, her heart still racing from the exhilarating ride. She looked at Sirius with a mix of gratitude and amusement.

"Thank you for the adventure, Sirius. It was... surprisingly wonderful," she said, a smile gracing her lips.

Sirius beamed, his eyes twinkling. "Anytime, Hermione." They stood there for a bit. “Where’s my kiss, Babe?” Sirius quipped, which made Hermione blush deeply.

Hermione's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at Sirius's playful remark. She glanced at him with embarrassment and fondness, her lips curling into a shy smile.

"Sirius Black, you and your cheeky comments," Hermione chided her tone a blend of amusement and affection. Despite her flushed cheeks, she leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on Sirius's cheek.

Sirius chuckled, his grin widening. "That's not the kiss I was aiming for, love."

He leaned closer, his hand cupping Hermione's face, and gently pressed his lips to hers. Hermione's heart fluttered at the softness of the moment, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness.

When they parted, Hermione's eyes sparkled, her initial embarrassment melting into contentment. "There, that should suffice for now."

Sirius winked a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Never enough, but I'll take what I can get. Until our next adventure, my dear Hermione."

With a final grin, Sirius turned, walking away with a playful swagger. Hermione stood there, still blushing but with a smile that lingered on her lips, feeling grateful for the spontaneous and loving spirit of Sirius that always kept life interesting.

Chapter Text

Peter had seen the beautiful 2nd year student ever since he finally got back to Hogwarts, thanks to being Ron Weasley's beloved pet rat. She was the unique Ravenclaw student, Luna Lovegood. Her smile can light up the room, and first years of all houses adored her and her peculiarities.

Well, not just the First years. Even the 32yo Peter Pettigrew absolutely adored her. Oh, how delighted he was when Ron Weasley showed him off to his crush.

"Luna! I think Scabbers like you! He always squeaks and moves around when around you. All he did was sleep and just eat when he was with me." Ron said as he handed Scabbers to Luna. Luna's fingers ran down to his soft fur. He squeaked in delight, and she felt him shiver at her touch.

"Awww, Scabbers seemed cold." Luna mused as she cradled the rat in her arms.

"He's too plump to feel cold." Ron chuckled. "Come Scabbers! Luna has a class soon. We don't want to bother her, are we?" Ron asked his rat, who buried his face in her chest, not wanting to leave her presence, her vanilla scent calming him down.

"If it is okay with you, Ron, I'll bring him back to our common room later." Luna smiled at Ron, who immediately beamed at her and ran to his next class. "It's just us for now, Scabbers." She said as he then got comfortable at the hood of her robe where he inhaled your scent. How heavenly her scent is. He'd love to be by her side and just leave the Weasleys.

Scabbers slept throughout Luna's classes, with occasional moments of him licking her cheeks or moving around her hood to change positions.

It was late at night; still in his Scabbers rat form, Peter watched as Luna dressed into her nightgown and settled. He watched as she locked her dorm room door and slowly went to get her dildo. Oh, how he badly wants to help her. She deserves more than a dildo.

He watched as her slender fingers played with her cunt. How he wanted to taste her nectar and scream in pleasure.

Peter then noticed that the window was left open. The wind blew Luna's curtain, and the moonlight illuminated her pale skin. Peter then saw how Luna was moaning Harry's name.

"Harry..." She whimpered. Peter seethed; he wanted her to moan his name. He wants her to think of him every time she touches herself. He wants her.

Peter then climbed off her bed, went to the floor, and transformed himself into his human self.

"Oh, Harry... Fuck me harder." He heard her moans; she was getting louder. He can't wait anymore; he transforms from his rat into human form. His animagus strong rat scent clinging unto him.

Peter then slowly walked to her and slowly pulled her hand off her cunt.

"Who are you?" She screamed in shock. Peter quickly silenced her and tied her wrists. He then looked at her, her eyes filled with fear.

"No need to be scared, my darling." He cooed. "I'm here to give you what you want." He whispered in her ears as he kissed her neck.

"No! Stop!" Luna whimpered.

"Shhhh. Don't resist it." He said as his hands started to pull her gown down. "I know what you want. I'm here to give it to you. I heard you moan for Potter."

"Stop it!" She tried to kick him, but he held her tightly.

"Oh, sweetie. I'll show you why he shouldn't be the one you think of." He said as he bit her shoulder and sucked her collarbone.

"Please stop it. Don't touch me!" She cried.

"Darling, your pussy tells otherwise," Peter smirked as he touched her clit. "You're so wet. Are you sure you don't want this?"

"NO!" She cried, tears flowing from her eyes.

"Shhh, darling. Don't worry, I'll be gentle." He smirked and slowly kissed her, his tongue fighting her own.

"No!" She pushed him off and tried to get off the bed. Peter then cast a spell that made her levitate.

"Don't worry. I'll make you forget about Harry. It's time for you to scream my name." He whispered as he pushed her down to the bed, her stomach flat against the bed, her ass facing him. "So beautiful." He smiled.

"Get away from me!" She tried to wiggle herself off, but the levitating charm didn't let her.

"Tsk tsk, darling. Behave." Peter said as he slowly stripped and pulled her gown up. He slowly inserted his hard cock inside her, and she screamed. "Mmmm. So tight. So beautiful. Moan my name." He whispered as he grabbed her waist and thrust hard.

"Stop! Please stop!" Luna begged; she didn't want this. She doesn't like this.

"Beg some more darling. Moan my name, beg me." He whispered as he pulled her hair back and bit her earlobe.

"Please, stop it."

"That's it, darling. Beg." He smirked and kept thrusting. "Oh, how I want you to be mine. Keep screaming; I loved it. Makes my cock twitch."

"NO!" Luna screamed. "You're a monster! Get away from me!"

"Don't deny yourself, my dear. You loved this." He groaned and grabbed her hair. "You're so wet, you want this." He grunted.

"No! I'm begging you to stop!" She screamed as Peter flipped her to her back while his cock is still sheathed into her dripping tight cunt. Her eyes met his crazy face. For years, almost more than a decade, Peter has been deprived of any sexual contact. This is his first, and he wants to make it last. He will make her his.

"Say my name, Luna." He groaned and held her arms above her head.

"Stop it! You're hurting me! Let me go!"

"Say my name. Scream my name. Let the whole castle know who's making you scream." He smirked. She limped and whimpered his name just to satisfy him. "Louder, darling. Scream my name."

"P-Peter, stop." She whimpered and cried.

"Mmm, say that again." He smirked and kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, fighting hers.

"P-please stop." She said when their lips parted.

"Scream for me, Luna. I'm getting close." He smirked and kept thrusting and kissing her.

"Peter... Stop it. Please." She whispered.

"Louder." He growled. Luna's scream sent him on edge, making him bury his cock deep inside her as he made incoherent moaning noises while he filled her womb. He was so high on his orgasm.

Peter collapsed and rolled off from her.

"You're so beautiful. I knew you liked it." Peter chuckled and turned her body so she was facing him. She just stared at him.

"I hate you." Luna spat.

"Now, now. I don't want to hear that from you." He whispered and kissed her lips. "I'll make you like me."

"You're sick."

"I'll keep coming back for more. You're too beautiful not to be fucked." Peter smiled.

Chapter Text

The frightening bounty hunter and werewolf Fenrir Greyback battled his reputation for a long time. His massive height and history of harming innocent people led most to view him as a monster. Their apprehension of the beast below was understandable, but he couldn't care less about what they thought. Unless Luna Lovegood has an opinion on the matter. Luna gave him a sense of belonging he had never experienced before. Originally intended as a hostage situation in which he intended to devour her, the Ravenclaw Witch turned it into a full-on therapy session. It was an unusual encounter that Fenrir will always remember fondly. With her, he could finally let his guard down; she could look past his hideous exterior and even embrace his feral side. She meant the world to him.

All these things blew through his mind as he stood on all fours before her tonight, patiently awaiting her response. He knew this was the next step if their relationship was to last, but he knew all too well the risk involved in showing his proper form. If Luna shunned and hated him, he doesn't know what he'd do anymore; maybe go back to his old ways? Oh, Merlin, he'd probably go berserk again.

His yellow eyes tracked her movement as she approached and knelt before him, gently caressing his furry ear. Luna barely spoke above a whisper, but his lupine ears heard her statement clear as day. Heat coursed through his fur-covered body at her words, "I've always had a fantasy about this."

He watched with interest as Luna unbuttoned her blouse, her chest swelling and falling with each breath. She was wearing a dark blue lacy bra underneath. Her perky breasts were almost spilling out of the flimsy garment. "This is only for you, Fenrir," she confessed. She removed the last of her clothing and stood naked before him. The light of the moon was shining through her hair like a halo, highlighting her slender figure. "Now, show me all of you."

Fenrir rubbed his cheek against her thigh as she stroked his ear. He could hear her heartbeat pick up, and the scent of her arousal trailed through his nostrils as he took a deep breath in. Luna smelled like vanilla, and he knew he needed to taste her, Devour her. She gasped slightly as Fenrir suddenly shoved against her, pushing Luna off balance and making her fall onto the grass. Luna's heart pounded in her chest, and she felt heat pool between her legs as the damp grass clung to her skin. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Fenrir's rough tongue flicked against her folds. The werewolf growled low and long as he licked the juices leaking from her cunt. He licked along her inner thigh and over her mound, his coarse tongue rubbing against her clit. He lapped at her eagerly, the taste and scent of her arousal making him harder than he'd ever been. She moaned and rocked her hips into him, his hot tongue bringing her closer to her orgasm. Her hands reached for his hair, gripping tightly and pulling him into her.

Fenrir growled as he savored the heavenly, sweet honey taste of Luna as her back arched off the damp earth. Pleasure built as Fenrir took his long, thick tongue to explore Luna's soft center, taking her breath away, and she, too, saw stars as he pushed her over the edge within a couple minutes. Fenrir smiled wolfishly as her release drenched his furry face, and Luna's thighs squeezed around his head as her hands gripped his ears, pulling him closer as she let out an incoherent moan. Luna's head was fuzzy, and she felt like floating on a cloud as Fenrir moved away from you.

The werewolf got off his knees and stretched out beside Luna, his massive furry form dwarfing her. As Luna regained her senses, she realized Fenrir was staring at her with his red eyes, a hungry expression. She was startled to see the beast's cock, which was long and thick and covered in knots. She had read about werewolf anatomy in the past, and it was clear that this was what she wanted.

As the beast growled low and long, the sound rumbling through Luna's body, Fenrir moved closer to her and mounted her, his cock sliding easily into her tight, slick pussy. Fenrir's cock was much larger than a human's, and his knotted length felt amazing as it stretched her walls and filled her completely. She moaned and squirmed under the wolf as she adjusted to his size, and soon, her body was relaxed and welcoming.

Fenrir pounded his enormous cock deep inside Luna's tight cunt. It was odd to be taken from behind by such a monster. His large body loomed over her as he thrust into her. She was unable to do anything but submit and take it. Luna had never felt so powerless and yet so desired. She was at the mercy of the wolf, and it turned her on immensely. She felt the animal was claiming her, marking her as his own. The thought made her tremble with excitement.

"Fuck, yes, please fuck me," Luna cried, her voice echoing off the trees.

She reached around his neck and pulled his furry head close, burying her face in his scent. Fenrir growled and pounded her harder, his hot breath tickling her ear. Luna could feel his knotted length filling her up, stretching her walls, and hitting all the right places. She was getting close to coming, and Fenrir could sense it. The wolf growled and thrust harder, pushing Luna over the edge. Her body shook as her climax rippled through her, her cunt clenching around the beast's cock.

Fenrir howled and released deep inside her, his hot cum filling her pussy and coating her walls. Luna's orgasm intensified as the wolf's seed spilled inside her, and her whole body trembled. Fenrir's knotted length remained inside her, ensuring that none of his cum escaped. Luna panted and shook, her body spent and satisfied. Fenrir's weight on top of her was comforting and reassuring, and she snuggled against the beast as they basked in the afterglow of their intense lovemaking.

As Luna recovered, she realized the wolf's knotted cock was still inside her. She didn't mind the feeling, and it seemed the wolf didn't either. After all, she didn't expect him to pull out and walk away; it was an intimate experience.

The werewolf lay with Luna on the ground, his knotted cock buried deep inside her, their bodies intertwined. He growled and nuzzled her neck, his warm breath tickling her ear. The sensations and feelings of the afterglow were unlike any other. Luna felt a closeness with the wolf she'd never experienced and knew she would cherish this memory for the rest of her life.

With Fenrir's knot still firmly lodged inside her, Luna's head swam, and her mind was lost to a pleasurable haze. Fenrir's growling and nuzzling had slowed as his body relaxed, but the knot kept him locked inside her. It was a strange feeling but one she didn't mind at all. In fact, it was pretty enjoyable.

"That was wonderful," she sighed. "I love you, Fenrir."

Chapter Text

He pulled her close, his strong arms holding her in a protective embrace. She nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his masculine scent. Her body felt limp and weak after another round in his office. Their relationship improved and changed after their very first sexual encounter together.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, a soft smile across her face.

"You're most welcome, my sweet Kitten," he replied, a smile of his own crossing his lips. "And now, it's time for you to continue working. I'll ensure you're all wet and ready when I take you back home."

Spending the night in Corban's bed made her stomach flip with excitement and desire. She could hardly wait to see what he had in store for her.

As they both stood up from their chairs, Corban's hands rested on Luna's waist, pulling her body closer to him. The heat radiating from his body was enough to send shivers down her spine, and the way he towered over her made her feel small and safe. His lips came down on her forehead, and he planted a gentle kiss.

"Go on now, Ms. Lovegood. There's work to be done," he murmured, his tone laced with amusement.

Luna nodded and hurriedly exited the office, her heart fluttering with anticipation for the night ahead.

As Luna walked towards her desk, her thoughts drifted to the night's possibilities. What would Corban have in store for her? Would he take her to his bed and ravish her, or would he tease and edge her until she was begging for release? Either way, she knew it would be a night she would never forget.

The afternoon went by as fast as the morning. Luna could focus more on her work, thanks to the earlier release. Corban's deep voice rang behind her as she was wrapping up her day, making her heart flutter.

"Ready to leave, Kitten?"

Luna stood up and gathered her belongings, her heart racing with excitement. "Yes, Daddy," she replied.

Corban placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to his office, where he had a portkey waiting for them. He gripped her waist and pulled her close, their bodies pressed together as they whisked away to his private quarters.

As soon as they arrived, Luna was greeted with the sight of Corban's lavish bedroom, its plush bed looking incredibly inviting. He gently pushed her towards it, the softness of the sheets welcoming her as she sank into them.

"Now, Ms. Lovegood, let's continue our work," Corban murmured, his voice low and lustful.

Luna lay on the bed, her back sinking into the soft mattress as her heart raced with anticipation. Corban hovered over her, his body casting a shadow over hers as his hands explored her curves, eliciting shivers of pleasure from her.

"Tell me what you want, Ms. Lovegood," he murmured, his breath hot on her neck.

"I want you, Daddy," she breathed, her hands running up his back, feeling his muscles flex under her touch.

"And what do you want me to do to you?"

"I want you to make me cum again," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"As you wish, Kitten."

Corban's lips crashed down on hers, his tongue parting her lips as he claimed her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, her hands fumbling with his clothes, eager to feel his skin against hers.

He pulled away, his lips trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck, his stubble leaving a delicious burn on her delicate skin. He pushed her skirt up, his hand cupping her soaked cunt.

"Mmm, I see you're ready for me, my sweet Kitten," he husked, his finger gently stroking her slick folds.

"Please, Daddy," she whimpered, her hips grinding against his hand, desperate for more friction.

"Please what, Ms. Lovegood?" he teased, his finger circling her swollen clit, making her body shudder.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," she moaned, her body aching with need.

Corban growled and flipped her onto her stomach, his hand pressing her back down, making her ass rise up in the air. His hands massaged her cheeks, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

He bent down and planted a trail of kisses along her spine, his lips moving lower and lower, reaching the swell of her ass.

"You have such a pretty little cunt, Kitten," he said, his voice thick with lust. He spread her legs, his fingers rubbing her dripping folds.

"So wet and ready for me," he rasped.

"Please, Daddy, I need you," she begged, her body trembling with anticipation.

"What do you want, my sweet Kitten?" he cooed, his finger teasing her opening.

"I want your cock inside me, Daddy," she whimpered, her core pulsing with need.

"And how badly do you want it?" he growled, his finger dipping into her cunt, her walls clenching around him.

"Oh, please, Daddy! I need it so bad! I need you to fuck me!"

Corban's finger pumped in and out of her pussy, his thumb rubbing her swollen clit, her moans echoing in the room.

"Do you like it when Daddy plays with your cunt, Ms. Lovegood?"

"Y-Yes, Daddy, it feels so good," she gasped, her body trembling as he worked her over.

"And you'd like it even more if Daddy fucked your tight little pussy, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy! Please fuck me!"

Corban growled and pulled his finger out, the absence of his touch making her cry out in protest. But her whimpers were soon replaced by a moan of pleasure as she felt his stiff cock press against her dripping cunt.

"Fuck me, Daddy, please," she begged, her hands clutching the sheets, her body aching for him.

He plunged into her, filling her completely, her walls clenching around him as she adjusted to his size. He began to thrust, his movements slow and steady, drawing out her pleasure.

"Does my little slut like being fucked like this?" he rasped, his hips slamming into her ass, his cock reaching deep inside her.

"Yes, Daddy! It feels so good!"

He quickened his pace, his cock pumping in and out of her tight hole, her body writhing with pleasure.

"Oh, yes, Daddy! Please don't stop!"

"Tell me, who owns this cunt, Ms. Lovegood?" Corban growled in her ear as he nibbled it.

"You do, Daddy! You own my pussy! It's yours to fuck whenever you want!" She whimpered.

"That's right, and what do you want Daddy to do now?" He asked, his hand tightly choking her dainty neck.

"I want you to fill my cunt with your cum, Daddy!" She scream in between gasps of air.

Corban groaned and gripped her hips, his cock slamming into her, his balls slapping against her ass.

"Come for Daddy, Ms. Lovegood. Come for me," he growled, his thumb rubbing her clit, sending her over the edge.

Her body spasmed as she came, her walls clenching around his cock, his fingers digging into her hips. He roared, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed, his hot cum filling her to the brim.

"Oh, Daddy, that was amazing," she breathed, her body going limp as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her.

"That's right, Kitten. You were such a good girl," he murmured, his lips kissing her neck.

"Thank you, Daddy," she sighed, her eyes drifting shut, exhaustion taking over.

Corban smiled, his heart swelling with affection. He had never expected to fall for a Hogwarts student, but here he was, in love with Luna Lovegood.

"Sleep, my sweet Kitten. We have a lot more work to do tomorrow." Corban lovingly whispered in her lips.

Chapter Text

Hi! Please comment on this chapter if you have any requests. I am the kind of writer who hyperfocuses on my favorite pairings, sooo unless someone requests, I'll most likely spam this book with Lucius, Yaxley, and Fenrir one-shots. Plus, I want to fulfill someone's rare pair fantasies, so feel free to drop any girls from the series, maybe your OC or you, instead.

Title of the One-Shot (if any):
Preferred Pairing (if applicable):
Characters Involved:
Setting/Location:
Preferred Kinks: (I'm open to most kinks, just a little squeamish with vore)
Plot/Storyline Summary (briefly describe what you'd like to see in the story):
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Chapter Text

They were so lucky, indeed fortunate, as the snatchers captured who they deemed the Chosen One and his posse. Scabior is particularly giddy at the sight of the only girl among the group; she’s beautiful, and her whimpers sure make him feel things. It had been months since he had last been in bed with someone; Fenrir Greyback had been hoarding all the female prisoners. Scabior took a deep breath as he buried his face in the nook of Hermione’s neck. She smelled heavenly even though dirt and grime covered her skin. He took a handful of her hair, putting it over his nose to savor her scent. Hermione ever so slightly squirmed from being bound with incarcerous. He tilted her head lightly.

“I remember this perfume; it’s from the woods, no?” Scabior asked with a smirk, his grin widening as his eyes landed on Hermione’s fear-stricken eyes. His cock twitched from excitement at the sight of her teary face. “Is that your boyfriend?” He asked, pointing at Ron Weasley, who was screaming his lungs out to let Hermione go.

“Y-yes.” Hermione tearfully whimpered as Scabior tilted her head to force her to look at her.

“Eyes up here, baby.” He growled.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes as she looked into his own. Scabior couldn’t help but let out a groan, she looked so pretty, and he couldn’t wait to fuck her. The fact that she belonged to someone else made him feel excited. He had never tried taking a girl away from another man and wanted to try it. Scabior couldn't care less about her supposed boyfriend; the redhead could be screaming at him all he wanted, but there was no way in hell he'd give Hermione to him. She’s way too exquisite to pass up on.

Scabior had never been fond of sharing, especially if it was a beautiful girl. The man took Hermione's chin between his fingers, caressing her soft lips, "Are you a virgin, my dear?" He whispered. She didn’t answer, biting her lower lip as his gaze lingered there.

“Answer me, Mudblood!” Scabior screamed; Hermione flinched as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Y-yes," Hermione whimpered, her lips quivering as her eyes met with Ron and Harry’s.

Scabior smirked, "Good."

His lips landed on Hermione's, and he took advantage of her surprised gasp to slide his tongue inside her mouth. He kissed her deeply, hungrily. It had been years since he had a taste of a woman. The man was starved, and Hermione tasted so sweet.

Scabior let his hands wander, caressing her curves until they landed on her firm buttocks. He squeezed her ass, earning a yelp from Hermione. His hands went under her shirt, and he was pleased to feel her silky skin under his rough hands. Scabior's fingers landed on the clasp of her bra, and he opened it. He groaned at the feel of her nipples, pinching them. His calloused hands roughly played with her mounds.

"Mine," He growled between kisses, ensuring the Weasley boy heard his words.

Hermione gasped, her cheeks burning in shame and embarrassment. She was being molested in front of her friends. Her supposed boyfriend looked at her in horror, unable to speak. She wanted to be saved by him, for him to come to her rescue.

Scabior's lips moved from her lips to her neck, and he began biting her skin, making her squirm. Hermione could hear his breathy pants, and her stomach churned in fear. He was aroused; she could tell by the hard bulge poking her belly. He nipped her skin, leaving a trail of love bites.

"I can't wait to fuck you," Scabior whispered, his hot breath fanning her ear. His hand slid down to her pants, and he unbuttoned them. He slipped his fingers in, touching her through her panties. "Weasley, watch as I take her first." Scabior taunted Ron as his fingers played with Hermione's clit through her panties.

“Let her go, you bloody bastard!” Ron screamed his lungs out as he felt the restraints around his arms and feet tightened.

“Let her go, you bloody bastard!” Scabior mockingly repeated as his fingers slid at Hermione’s panties, his two fingers prodding her entrance.

“Stop, Please.” Hermione whimpered as she tried to close her legs, only for her to further trap Scabior’s fingers in her crotch.

"Not until you cum," Scabior smirked, his fingers rubbing her faster.

She felt dirty and violated, and yet a part of her was responding to Scabior's touches. She tried to fight it, but it was hard when he was stimulating her clit and sucking her nipple. Hermione tried to move her hips away from his fingers, but Scabior pinned her down with his weight, keeping her immobile.

"No," Hermione cried out, her voice laced with pleasure and pain.

Scabior kept stimulating her clit, his lips now sucking her other nipple. "You're wet," He grinned. "Does Weasley not please you, baby? Is he such a fucking baby like right now? Watching his ‘beloved’ girlfriend have my cunt buried deep inside her?"

"I'm...ah...ahhh..." Hermione whimpered. She didn't know what to say. She was torn between begging him to stop and admitting how good it felt. She tried her best to not look at Ron, who was crying so hard he vomited on the floor.

"Come for me, baby." Scabior breathed into her ear, and it was like a magic word. Hermione moaned, her back arching off the ground as his fingers curled so deliciously inside her dripping wet cunt. She trembled, her body shuddering as she came, her pussy throbbing. She had never had an orgasm like that. She was embarrassed, and her cheeks turned red.

"Good girl," Scabior purred, a grin spreading across his lips.

Scabior was hard as a rock. The sight of the young girl trembling and moaning was enough to drive him crazy. He wanted to fuck her, to hear her moan and scream his name right in front of her friend and boyfriend. Right in front of the two young men she had grown up with. Scabior's hands roamed under her shirt, playing with her breasts, "You have nice tits, baby. You'd look better without these clothes."

"No, please," Hermione pleaded, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

Scabior chuckled, his eyes dark with lust. He wanted her. He would have her, and her boyfriend or friends could do nothing about it. “Don't worry, baby. I'll be gentle," He smirked. Scabior pulled down his boxers, and his cock sprang free, slapping against his belly. He was rock-hard. Hermione stared at his cock in fear, her eyes wide. It was big. She didn't know if it would fit.

"See, you like it, baby," Scabior said, stroking his cock. "I can tell by the look in your eyes. You want me."

"N-no, no, please, d-don't," Hermione whimpered. She let out a shriek as his cock penetrated her. He was big, and this was her first time. He didn't wait. Instead, he pushed deeper into her, and Hermione cried out as her virgin cunt had trouble handling his size. Her blood coated his cock alongside her juices. She screamed hard as she tried to move away her body from him, and yet his hand engulfed her throat, trapping her further as his hips slammed her repeatedly.

"Shhh, baby, it'll feel good soon." Scabior purred as he slowly thrust his cock inside her, her pussy squeezing him as she gasped for air, her eyes rolling back as her lips slowly turned pale. The harder it was for her to breathe, the harder her cunt gripped Scabior’s cock.

"Stop! Let her go!" Ron shrieked, his face turning red from sheer anger. Scabior laughed as he finally let go of Hermione’s neck; she gasped for air, almost limping as she tried to catch her breath.

Scabior's lips went to her neck, and he sucked her skin as his cock slid deeper and deeper into her pussy. Hermione's screams turned to moans, and he smiled.

"See, baby, you're enjoying it." He groaned, his cock fully sheathed inside her.

"N-no, don't move, p-please," Hermione begged, tears streaming down her face as she felt his veiny cock move in and out of her cunt. Scabior smirked, reveling at the sight of her writhing under him while her bf watched her get pounded.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He growled, his lips moving to her ear. "You're such a good girl, baby."

"P-please, ah- ahh," Hermione moaned, her pussy clenching around his cock.

"Do you want more, baby?" Scabior groaned.

Hermione moaned, her eyes rolling back as he picked up his pace, fucking her hard and fast. Scabior grinned, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. His fingers found her nipples, and he pinched them. Scabior's cock slammed into her harder, and her body shook with each thrust. She was moaning and crying, her hands clawing at his back as she almost reached her orgasm.

"That's right, baby, cry for me." He groaned. He flipped her to all fours, facing both Harry and Ron, who looked bewildered, traumatized even. Scabior stopped moving as he held her head up to look directly at her friends. Hermione tried to avoid it by closing her eyes. “Look at them!” Scabior roared, which made her follow him immediately. He slowly withdraws his cock, leaving the head of his cock at her entrance. “Beg for my cock.” He growled as Hermione tried to move her hips to deepen his cock inside her.

He chuckled at her desperation. She was desperate to be fucked. He had her right where he wanted her.

"Please, please, please, Scabior, don't stop, I need it. I need it so badly, please," Hermione whimpered, her face bright red with shame as she uttered those words with her eyes staring at her friends.

"Say that again," Scabior growled, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"I-I need you," Hermione said, her eyes watering.

"Again," Scabior hissed, his cock throbbing inside her as he slowly slid back his cock inside her.

“Stop manipulating her, you fucking bitch!” Ron screamed.

"P-please, Scabior," Hermione moaned.

"Say it!" Scabior yelled, his fingers tightening in her hair.

"I NEED YOU," Hermione shouted, her whole body shaking with need.

"That's right, baby. You need me," Scabior grinned, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he began slamming into her harder and faster. Hermione's body shook with each thrust. Her mind was spinning. Her whole body was trembling. She felt like she was going to explode.

"No! Stop!" Ron screamed.

Scabior ignored him, and he fucked her harder, his balls slapping against her. Hermione's moans were getting louder, and Scabior smiled.

"Come for me, baby." Scabior breathed. "Show me how much you love my cock." Hermione cried, her body convulsing, her pussy spasming.

"That's it, baby, cum for me." Scabior groaned, his cock slamming into her harder and faster. Her pussy clenched around his cock as he continued to pound her.

Scabior leaned in and kissed her lips. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum. Your tight little pussy is too much for me."

"N-no. Don't cum inside." Hermione cried, her body trembling as her teary eyes pleaded for forgiveness at her friends.

"Shhh, baby. I'm going to cum. I can't stop." He groaned. Scabior's fingers went to her clit, and he rubbed it, making her scream. "Oh god!" Hermione moaned, her pussy convulsing, her body trembling.

"Fuck! Take my cum, baby." Scabior growled, his cock twitching.

Hermione's eyes rolled back, her body convulsing as his hot seed filled her. She was shaking, her body quivering as his thick cum dripped out of her pussy.

"Fuck, baby, you're such a good girl. Take my cum." Scabior groaned, his cock twitching inside her.

"P-please, I can't t-take any m-more," Hermione sobbed.

Scabior leaned in and kissed her, his lips brushing hers. "Shhh, baby. It's alright. You did great. I'm going to pull out now, okay?"

"Please, no more," Hermione repeated like a broken record, her tears falling on the cold, hard concrete.

Scabior smiled, his cock sliding out of her. He looked down at her and smiled, "You did great baby. I'll see you soon." he added, pulling his pants up.

He walked away from her, his cum dripping out of her pussy. Hermione lay there, shaking and crying. She felt dirty and violated. She could feel the hot cum dripping out of her, and her tears wouldn't stop as she heard the whimpers and sobs of her own friends.

Chapter Text

The grand halls of Malfoy Manor echoed with the emptiness that seemed to consume Lucius Malfoy's once regal existence. The air was heavy with the memories of when the Malfoy family was at the pinnacle of the wizarding world. Now, it was a mere shell of its former glory.

Adorned in his impeccable black robes, Lucius strode through the echoing corridors with a heavy heart. The shadows danced across his face, mirroring the conflict within him. He had married Narcissa out of duty, not love, and the strain of their union had become more apparent with each passing day. The aftermath of the wizarding war had left scars not just on the world but also on the Malfoy family. Lucius's choices during those dark times had driven a wedge between him and Narcissa, their once-sturdy bond reduced to fragile threads. The house arrest, the constant presence of Death Eaters in their home, and the looming threat to Draco's life had taken its toll.

Narcissa had chosen to distance herself, seeking refuge in a separate mansion. Draco, their only son, had followed his mother, leaving Lucius to navigate the cold corridors of Malfoy Manor alone. Divorce was an unthinkable option, a betrayal of the sacred purity of the Malfoy bloodline, and the family's pride held them captive in a loveless facade. Draco, however, hadn't abandoned his father entirely. Through the interwoven threads of obligation and affection, he sent Pansy Parkinson to keep an eye on Lucius. The girl, a loyal companion, would bring muffins and a touch of warmth that Lucius had long missed.

With her signature bob cut and full bangs, Pansy Pansy embodied the epitome of pureblood entitlement. Yet, as time passed, Lucius began to see beyond the surface. Her once irritating muffins and a source of solace, her soft-spoken demeanor offering a respite from the desolation that pervaded Malfoy Manor.

One day, as Lucius sat in the study with the weight of his solitude bearing down on him, Pansy arrived bearing a tray of freshly baked muffins. She smiled gently, her eyes betraying a depth of understanding that surprised Lucius.

"Pansy, my dear," Lucius said, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice. "You've been a constant presence in this forsaken place. I must admit, your company has been a balm to my weary soul."

Pansy's expression softened, and she took a seat opposite him. "I'm just here to make sure you're not entirely alone, Mr. Malfoy. Draco worries about you."

As the days turned into weeks, the bond between Lucius and Pansy deepened. They found solace in each other's company, sharing stories, laughter, and the occasional sigh of shared burdens. Lucius, against his own reservations, found himself drawn to Pansy in a way he hadn't anticipated.

The realization hit him like a sudden storm – he harbored feelings for his son's girlfriend for Merlin knows how long. He had seen Pansy seen she was 11, and that made Lucius feel worse. He struggled with his newfound emotions, torn between his loyalty to his family's name and his undeniable connection with Pansy.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," Pansy greeted with a warm smile, settinhis tray with a small selection of fihis undeniable connectionble. "I thought we could enjoy a quiet evening together, Draco’s out for work."

Lucius acknowledged her with a nod, a rare smile touching the corners of his lips. "Indeed, Pansy. Your presence is always a welcome reprieve from the solitude of this place."

As they settled into conversation, the air around them lightened. The topics ranged from wizarding politics' intricacies to magical theory's subtle nuances. Yet, beneath the veneer of formal discussion, an unspoken understanding lingered.

After some time, Pansy's eyes fell upon a dusty old box on the shelf. Curiosity ignited within her, and with a playful grin, she rose to retrieve it. Lucius watched with bemusement as she opened the box, revealing a collection of Lucius's old Hogwarts memorabilia.

"Is this your yearbook, Mr. Malfoy?" Pansy asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. I haven't looked at it in years."

Pansy eagerly flipped through the pages, her fingers delicately tracing the black-and-white images of a young Lucius Malfoy in his Hogwarts days. She let out a delighted giggle at the sight of his teenage self, with long, slicked-back hair and the unmistakable air of aristocratic confidence.

"Oh, look at you!" Pansy exclaimed, pointing at a particularly dramatic photograph. "You were practically the heartthrob of Slytherin, weren't you?"

Lucius chuckled, a rare sound that echoed through the study. "Appearances can be deceiving, Miss Parkinson. Hogwarts was a different world then."

Pansy continued her exploration, uncovering candid shots and group photos that captured the essence of Lucius's youth. She saw a picture of him with his friends, a younger Severus Snape, and another Slytherin whose name seemed to escape her.

"Who's this?" Pansy asked, pointing to the unknown figure.

Lucius leaned in, his eyes glancing at the photograph. "That's Regulus Black. A troubled soul but a loyal friend."

As Pansy then flipped through the worn pages of the family album, she came across a portrait of a young Lucius, his silver-blond hair cascading over his shoulders with a boyish charm starkly contrasting to the stern man she knew. She couldn't help but let out a light-hearted chuckle.

"Mr. Malfoy, you were quite the heartbreaker in your younger days, weren't you?" Pansy teased, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Lucius, usually composed and aloof, flashed a half-smile. "One can say that."

Pansy tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "And I suppose surviving involved leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake?"

Lucius feigned innocence, his voice taking on a low, velvety tone. "Perhaps a few. But that was a different era, a different time. I’m as loyal as I can be." He leaned closer, their shoulders almost touching, and gestured to another portrait. "And here, a snapshot of a family gathering," Lucius remarked. "Care to guess which one I am?"

Pansy studied the portrait, her eyes flickering between the faces. "The one with the enigmatic smile, no doubt. You always did have a way of leaving an impression."

Lucius chuckled, the sound resonating in the quiet study. "Observant, Miss Parkinson. I appreciate a keen eye for detail."

As Pansy turned another page, she stumbled upon a picture of Lucius in formal wizarding robes, his posture exuding authority. Her fingers traced the contours of the image, and she looked up at him with a playful gleam in her eyes.

"Is it strange that I find this version of you even more attractive?" Pansy mused, her tone teasing.

Lucius met her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Attraction, Miss Parkinson, is a complex and unpredictable force. Sometimes, it takes a discerning eye to recognize it in unexpected places."

As Pansy traced her fingers delicately over an old photograph, Lucius leaned in from behind her, his tall frame casting a gentle shadow. His voice, a low, velvety murmur, pointed out details and anecdotes about the images captured in the album.

"Ah, this one," Lucius began, his breath brushing against Pansy's ear as he spoke. "It was taken during a summer gathering at the Manor."

Feeling the warmth of his proximity, Pansy couldn't help but shiver involuntarily. Seemingly oblivious to the effect, Lucius continued his commentary, his fingers lightly pointing to specific faces in the photographs.

Their eyes met in the reflection of the glass protecting the aged images, a charged gaze that sent a subtle current through the room. Lucius, the master of composure, felt a tremor in his usually steady hands. Pansy, caught in the intensity of his gaze, found herself breathless.

A peculiar energy pulsed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory they were treading. The air thickened with an intoxicating blend of nostalgia, vulnerability, and an unspoken desire that lingered beneath the surface.

With a deliberate slowness, Lucius moved closer, his lips mere inches from Pansy's ear. "You see, Miss Parkinson, these captured moments hold more than just memories."

Pansy's heart quickened at the proximity, and she struggled to focus on the images before her. Lucius, however, seemed to revel in the intimacy of the moment. His fingers brushed lightly against hers, a subtle connection that sent a shiver down her spine.

As Lucius pointed to another photograph, his gaze lingered on Pansy's face. Their eyes locked, a shared understanding passing between them. "I-I need to go, Mr. Malfoy; I need to make sure mine and Draco's kittens are fed," Pansy said with a nervous laugh as she felt Lucius' hand on her shoulder.

Pansy's attempt at a nervous laugh betrayed the subtle tremor in her voice as she spoke. Lucius, ever the master of poise, let his hand linger on her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. His touch, though gentle, sent a shiver down Pansy's spine, awakening sensations she had not anticipated.

"Of course, Miss Parkinson," Lucius replied smoothly, withdrawing his hand. His eyes, however, held a glint of something unspoken – a magnetic connection that lingered between them

Pansy gathered her composure, her cheeks flushed as she stood up from her seat, the family album now a witness to the uncharted territory they had just traversed. She took a step back, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"I appreciate your company, Mr. Malfoy," Pansy stammered, her gaze flickering between the door and Lucius. "It's been... enlightening."

Lucius, with a half-smile that hinted at hidden depths, nodded. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Parkinson. Do give my regards to Draco and the kittens."

As Pansy made her way to the door, Lucius couldn't resist a parting remark, his voice a velvet caress in the charged atmosphere. "And if you ever find yourself yearning for more enlightening conversations, you know where to find me."

Pansy's breath caught in her throat, her fingers lingering on the doorknob. She cast a fleeting glance back at Lucius, their eyes locking for a moment that felt suspended in time. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and then, with a hesitant nod, Pansy stepped out into the cool corridor.

—--------

The ornate drawing room of Malfoy Manor was filled with the deep resonance of laughter as Lucius Malfoy sat with his longtime friend and fellow Death Eater, Corban Yaxley. The room, adorned with dark wood and silver accents, exuded an air of refined elegance that matched the aristocratic aura of its occupants.

Lucius, usually the epitome of stoicism, found himself in a rare state of distraction, his thoughts drifting far from the usual matters of wizarding politics. Corban, sensing the shift in his friend, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at the once unyielding Malfoy patriarch.

"So, Lucius," Corban began with a sly grin, swirling the wine in his glass. "I couldn't help but notice the rather captivating company you've been keeping lately."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, his steely gaze meeting Corban's. "I am unsure what you are talking about, Yaxley."

Corban chuckled, a sound that reverberated through the room. "Oh, don't play coy with me, my friend. It seems you've caught a case of the lovesickness, and I must say, it's quite an entertaining spectacle."

Lucius, his composure momentarily faltering, shot Corban a pointed glare. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Your sense of humor has not improved over the years."

Corban leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eyes. "Come now, Lucius. The entire wizarding world could see the shift in your demeanor. It's written all over your face – like a teenager infatuated with his first crush."

Lucius scowled, a rare display of annoyance. "This is preposterous, Yaxley. I am far too old for such trivial matters."

Corban smirked, undeterred by his friend's protests. "Ah, but love knows no age, my dear Lucius. I suppose we should be congratulating you on finding a new source of inspiration in your advanced years."

Lucius, suppressing a sigh, leaned forward, his voice low and measured. "Corban, I assure you there is no cause for congratulations. It's merely a passing phase, and I would appreciate it if you refrained from further speculation."

Still reveling in his friend's discomfort, Corban raised his glass in a mock salute. "To Lucius Malfoy, the once indomitable Death Eater, now brought to his knees by the charms of a certain Miss Parkinson."

Lucius, his patience wearing thin, shot Corban a pointed look. "This conversation is over, Yaxley."

But undeterred Corban continued to tease his friend

—-------

The grandeur of Malfoy Manor stood tall against the night sky, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Inside the study, the room held a serene stillness, broken only by the occasional crackling of the fireplace. Lucius Malfoy, seated in his customary armchair, was engrossed in a thick book when a soft knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," Lucius called, looking up to see Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorway. Her usually confident demeanor seemed replaced by an air of vulnerability, her eyes tinged with frustration and sadness.

"Mr. Malfoy," Pansy began, her voice wavering. "I hope I'm not intruding. I just needed someone to talk to."

Lucius closed the book, giving her his full attention. "Not at all, Miss Parkinson. You're always welcome here. What troubles you?"

Pansy stepped into the room, her gaze shifting nervously as she took a deep breath. "It's Draco. We had a fight, and I can't shake this feeling that... that he might be cheating on me."

Lucius regarded her with a gentle understanding, motioning for her to sit. Pansy sank into the chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Lucius, though not accustomed to matters of the heart, recognized the universal language of pain.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Pansy. Relationships can be complicated," Lucius offered, his tone compassionate.

Pansy nodded, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I just... I don't know what to do. It's tearing me apart. And to make matters worse, I don't feel like I can talk to Draco about it."

Lucius leaned forward, his gaze softening. "Sometimes, communication is the key. But I understand that it might not be easy. Would you like to talk about what happened?"

As Pansy recounted the details of the argument, Lucius listened attentively, offering a sympathetic ear. The heavy air of the study seemed to lighten as they shared the weight of her distress. At that moment, the age difference and the societal norms that once divided them seemed insignificant.

"I feel so lost, Mr. Malfoy," Pansy admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just need someone to help me make sense of all this."

In reaching into the depths of his own experiences, Lucius found a way to connect with her pain. "Cheating is such a cowardly thing to do, my dear, I don’t condone what my son did. You deserve an unconditional love, not one so easily deceived.."

Pansy, looking up at him, found solace in his words. There was an unexpected comfort in sharing her vulnerabilities with Lucius – a man she had once seen as unapproachable and untouchable.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Pansy said, her gratitude evident. "I didn't expect to find someone to confide in, especially not you."

Lucius offered a small, understanding smile. "Life has a way of surprising us, Miss Parkinson. If there's anything I can do to assist you through this difficult time, please don't hesitate to ask."

Lucius slowly caressed Pansy's waist, a slight flutter filled Lucius' stomach as he held her supple skin. "I'm not saying you should leave my son outright, but cheating is a deal breaker, is it not?" He whispered in her ear. His voice dripping with manipulation and subtle push to have her all for himself.

"Yes," Pansy agreed. "It is, I can’t believe he can even do that. I gave him my love and all."

The tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity. Lucius felt his pulse quicken as his hand trailed up her back. She sighed, leaning into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she clutched her handkerchief while her tears fell.

"You deserve so much better than my son," Lucius whispered. "He doesn't know how to appreciate you."

A single tear escaped down her cheek, the pain of the traitorous act still fresh.

"But I could," Lucius added.

"I think you're right," Pansy murmured, her voice barely audible. "I deserve someone who will love me unconditionally."

Lucius, his breath warm on her skin, continued his persuasive pursuit. "And that someone is not Draco. Tell me, Pansy, do you think you'll ever be able to forgive him for his indiscretions?" Lucius asked, his gaze holding her captive.

"I... I don't know," Pansy replied, her voice a mere whisper.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to stop questioning his loyalty?" Lucius pressed.

"No, I don't think I could," Pansy admitted.

Lucius cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin. "Then why are you still with him?"

Pansy hesitated, caught off guard by his direct question.

"You deserve more, Pansy," Lucius murmured. "You deserve someone who will be devoted to you, who will make you the center of their world."

"But what about our friends? The society we both live in?" Pansy asked. "Draco and I have been together for so long, I can't imagine life without him."

Lucius' voice was steady, his resolve firm. "They don’t matter."

The air hung heavy with uncertainty, the weight of his words sinking in. Pansy drew in a shaky breath, her eyes searching his for a sign of doubt. "Mr. Malfoy, are you really saying...?" Pansy began.

"I am saying," Lucius cut her off. "I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you."

His hand slipped under her chin, his thumb tracing her lower lip.

"I can't help myself. I want you, Pansy. Will you let me?"

She hesitated, her eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, she let out a small, almost imperceptible gasp.

"Yes."

Lucius, his patience wearing thin, pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. Her lips were soft, yielding under his. He tasted of firewhiskey and power, the promise of an experience she couldn't turn away from. He pulled her closer, the warmth of her body sending shivers down his spine. They broke apart, breathless and flushed. Lucius, his gaze unwavering, brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"This will be the beginning of something beautiful, I assure you," Lucius said. "Now, come."

Lucius grasped her hand, pulling her toward the door of the study. Her mind raced, heart pounding in her chest. He led her down the hall, through the foyer, and up the winding staircase. Each step took her further away from the life she knew, deeper into the unknown.

He guided her down the dimly lit corridor, past the door to his own chambers, and through the door leading to a chamber that they will now share. They stepped into the spacious room, illuminated by the silvery glow of the moonlight filtering in through the windows. He closed the door behind them, a sense of finality in the soft click.

"This is your last chance, Pansy," Lucius murmured, his eyes dark with desire. "If you stay, there is no turning back. If you go, you will never be able to return."

"I don't want to go," Pansy breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius' eyes burned with lust and longing as he closed the gap between them. He pulled her into his arms, his hands tangling in her hair.

"You're mine now, Pansy. All mine."

Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Lucius, please..." Pansy moaned.

Lucius captured her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth. Her knees went weak, a wave of desire coursing through her body. He backed her up until the edge of the bed pressed against her legs, breaking the kiss only to ease her down onto the silken sheets.

"I have waited a long time for this," Lucius growled. "I intend to savor every moment."

He slowly began to undress her, revealing her creamy skin inch by tantalizing inch. He slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders, peppering kisses along the newly exposed flesh. She shivered beneath his touch, her nerves singing with anticipation.

Lucius made quick work of the rest of her clothing, tossing it carelessly aside. He stood back, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, a goddess in the moonlight.

"Perfection," Lucius whispered, his voice low and husky.

He removed his own clothes, revealing a body honed by years of hard work and discipline. The muscles of his chest rippled under his pale skin, the strength of his form evident even in the dim light. He moved over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His lips found hers once more, their tongues intertwining in a passionate dance.

She ran her hands down his back, her nails leaving red welts in their wake. He moaned into her mouth, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. He broke the kiss, his mouth moving to her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. She gasped, her head falling back in surrender. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and swell. He cupped her breast, teasing the nipple to a stiff peak.

"Lucius," she moaned, arching into his touch.

He trailed his mouth lower, his lips blazing a searing path to her chest. He laved his tongue across her other nipple, the sensation making her cry out.

"Do you like that, my dear?" Lucius murmured, his voice dripping with erotic promise.

"Yes," she panted, her body on fire with need.

He moved lower still, his hands gliding over her hips and thighs. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, each one sending a new wave of pleasure through her body. His fingers found her wet and wanting, sliding easily inside. She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand.

"Oh, yes," she breathed.

He pumped his fingers, the feeling making her cry out in ecstasy.

"Please, Lucius," she begged, her voice desperate.

He obliged, moving his body over hers, the heat of his arousal pressing against her entrance.

"Tell me what you want," Lucius growled.

"I want you," she pleaded. "I want you inside me."

With one fluid motion, he pushed into her, her body opening to him. She gasped, the sensation almost too much to bear. He stilled, letting her adjust to the feeling.

"Oh, Merlin," she moaned.

"You feel amazing," Lucius said.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

"Yes," she cried.

He began to move, slow and steady at first, building to a frenzied pace. She clung to him, her nails raking down his back, his name on her lips.

"Harder," she begged, her body aching with desire.

"As you wish," he growled, his hips slamming into hers.

The headboard banged against the wall, the sound echoing through the room. They lost themselves in the pleasure, their bodies moving in a primal rhythm. She felt her release approaching, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

"I'm close," she gasped.

"Come for me, Pansy," Lucius murmured, his voice strained with exertion. "Come for me."

She shattered, her body quaking with ecstasy. Her walls clenched around him, sending him over the edge. He emptied himself into her, the force of his climax leaving them both breathless.

They lay there, their hearts pounding, their bodies intertwined.

"That was..." she trailed off, unable to find the words.

"It was," Lucius agreed, his face nuzzling into her neck.

"I'm yours," she whispered, the truth of the statement filling her with a newfound sense of peace.

"You are," he replied, his tone possessive.

Chapter Text

Father Severus Snape briskly walked down the dimly lit corridors of St. Agatha's All Girls Catholic School, his black cassock swished with each determined stride. The echoes of his footsteps reverberated off the ancient stone walls, blending with the distant sound of organ music drifting from the chapel. If one asks why he chose this life path, he'll most likely answer with some religious bullshit he had learned for the past 17 years as a priest. One thing he had genuinely followed throughout his catholic life was his celibacy. It's quite an easy one to follow for him if he can be honest; he swore that he would never fall in love nor be sexually attracted to anyone ever again the moment that his former high school crush and best friend started dating his bully. With a stern expression etched upon his angular features, Severus cast a disdainful glance at the array of religious paintings lining the corridor—a silent reminder of the institution's devout commitment to faith and discipline.

The classroom was a haven of academic order as Father Severus Snape meticulously organized his notes on the lectern. Shuffling papers filled the room as he prepared for the day's lesson. Students filed into the room, taking their seats with the practiced routine of a well-disciplined congregation.

As Severus looked up, his eyes caught sight of Hermione Granger settling into her desk, her diligent posture and studious demeanor impossible to ignore. A pang of discomfort twinged in his chest, a sensation he vehemently refused to acknowledge. The similarities between Hermione and Lily Evans were far too glaring—those intelligent eyes, the fervent pursuit of knowledge, and the unyielding determination etched upon their faces.

Severus cleared his throat, suppressing the disconcerting thoughts that threatened to surface. "Good morning, class," he announced in his resonant voice, the authority inherent in his priestly role lending an air of command to the room.

Severus found it increasingly challenging to divert his attention from Hermione as the lesson unfolded. Her insightful queries and the astute way she absorbed information only intensified the parallels he drew between her and the haunting memory of Lily.

The passage of time seemed to blur as Severus continued with the lesson, his internal struggle masked by a façade of impassivity. He sternly reminded himself of the boundaries that must not be crossed, the sanctity of his vows that must remain inviolate.

However, the inner turmoil grew more pronounced as the day progressed. A simple gaze in Hermione's direction became an unintended journey into the corridors of his past, his heart disturbingly fluttering. How can he, a middle-aged priest, find himself blushing and even fumbling at the presence of his student.

The air in the classroom was thick with tension as Father Severus Snape perused the stack of essays spread out on his desk. He glanced sternly over the sea of expectant faces, his gaze finally settling on Hermione Granger. She sat, perhaps unaware of the storm about to unleash upon her, her eyes focused intently on the pages of her textbook.

Severus paused, his dark eyes narrowing as he singled out Hermione's essay. The title, written in neat handwriting, caught his attention: "The Inherent Flaws of the Catholic Church: A Critical Analysis."

His thin lips pressed into a firm line, and the corners of his mouth dipped in disapproval. Severus deliberately approached Hermione's desk, holding her essay with stern authority.

"Miss Granger," he intoned, his voice cutting through the ambient whispers of the classroom. "I believe we need to discuss the content of your essay."

Hermione looked up, her expression confident but with a glint of apprehension in her eyes. "Father Snape, I only aimed to provide a thoughtful critique—"

Severus raised a hand, cutting her off with a steely gaze. "Critique is one thing, Miss Granger. Blatant criticism of the teachings and principles of the Catholic Church is another matter entirely."

"The Church," Severus began, his voice resonating through the room, "is a sacred institution that has withstood the test of time. It is not for you or anyone else to cast aspersions upon its teachings without respect and understanding."

As he spoke, Severus walked to the front of the classroom, every step calculated to amplify the gravity of the situation. He turned to face the class, essays still in hand, his eyes scanning each student as if warning them against following Hermione's perceived insubordination.

Hermione swallowed, her eyes unwavering but tinged with a hint of defiance. "Father Snape, I believe in questioning and seeking knowledge. It's an integral part of learning."

Severus's eyes bore into hers, his expression unyielding. "Questioning is encouraged, Miss Granger, but your words go beyond mere inquiry. They reek of disdain and a lack of reverence for the values we uphold in this institution."

He took a deep breath, regaining his composure before delivering the final blow. "I find it necessary to remind you of the sanctity of the principles we follow here at St. Agatha's. In light of your blatant disregard for these principles, you will serve a detention this Saturday to reflect upon the gravity of your words and actions."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of indignation flickering across her features. "A detention, Father Snape?"

Severus's gaze remained unwavering. "Miss Granger, open dialogue should be approached with respect and decorum. Your essay lacked both. You will spend your detention contemplating the values we uphold here and consider the consequences of your words."

He handed her the essay, his expression leaving no room for argument. The bell rang, signaling the end of the class, and as the students filed out, Hermione cast one last, defiant glance at Severus Snape.

-----------

The detention room was a small, dimly lit chamber tucked away in the depths of St. Agatha's, its walls adorned with faded religious paintings. Father Severus Snape sat behind a plain wooden desk, a stern expression etched on his face as he awaited the arrival of Hermione Granger. The air felt heavy with anticipation, a palpable tension hanging in the room.

The door creaked open, and Hermione sauntered in with an air of nonchalance that made Severus narrow his eyes. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she strode toward the desk.

"Father Snape," she purred, her tone laced with a hint of mockery. "I must say, I never thought I'd be in detention with a priest. What would my parents say?"

Severus glared at her, unamused by her attempts at banter. "Miss Granger, this is not a time for frivolous remarks. You are here to reflect on your inappropriate essay and the lack of respect you showed for the principles of this institution."

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, come now, Father Snape. It was just an essay. I'm sure the Catholic Church can withstand a little criticism."

Severus's patience wore thin, but he maintained his composure. "Criticism is one thing, Miss Granger. Disrespect is another. You are here to learn the importance of maintaining a decorous and respectful discourse."

Hermione leaned against the desk, a playful glint in her eyes. "Decorous and respectful? Sounds terribly dull, Father. I thought you priests were supposed to be all about forgiveness and turning the other cheek."

Severus sighed, realizing that Hermione was intent on testing his patience. "This detention is an opportunity for you to reflect on your actions, Miss Granger. I suggest you take it seriously."

Hermione's smirk only widened, and she began to tap her fingers rhythmically on the desk. "So, Father, do you ever get bored of all this holier-than-thou attitude? Must be a real buzzkill at parties."

Severus fixed her with a stern gaze. "This is not a matter of parties, Miss Granger. It's about the values and principles that govern this institution."

But Hermione seemed unfazed. "Values and principles, right. Because criticizing the Church is such a cardinal sin, isn't it?"

Severus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Enough, Miss Granger. You are not here to engage in flippant banter. Your actions have consequences, and it's high time you understood that."

But Hermione continued to push his buttons, a devilish glint in her eyes. "Oh, Father, you're so serious. You could use a bit of fun in your life. Ever thought of breaking a rule or two?"

Severus shot her a withering look; the frustration was evident in his voice. "Miss Granger, your attitude is not only disrespectful but also intolerable. This detention is not a joke, and I expect you to treat it with the gravity it deserves."

"Oh, I know you're not joking, Father Snape." Hermione teased. His title as 'Father' coming from her mouth sent shivers down his spine. Oh, how much he loved hearing her call him that. So Sinful, and he loves it.

Severus clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to maintain composure despite Hermione's relentless teasing. He fought to suppress the way her playful tone sent a shiver down his spine, the forbidden thrill of hearing her address him with the reverence reserved for a priest igniting a dangerous spark within him. With each syllable that fell from her lips, he felt the weight of his vows bearing down upon him, a constant reminder of the boundaries he dared not cross.

"Miss Granger," he managed to choke out, his voice strained with frustration and desire. "Your insolence knows no bounds."

But Hermione merely chuckled, her eyes dancing with amusement as she leaned closer, the faint scent of her perfume wafting tantalizingly in the air. "Oh, Father, don't be such a killjoy. Where's your sense of adventure?"

Severus fought the urge to close the distance between them, his hands trembling with suppressed longing. He knew he should rebuke her to remind her of the seriousness of her transgressions, but the intoxicating allure of her presence clouded his judgment.

"Adventure has no place within these walls," he replied, his voice a low growl that betrayed the turmoil raging within him. "You would do well to remember that."

But Hermione only grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned back in her chair, her posture unapologetically defiant. "Oh, Father, you're no fun at all. I thought you priests were supposed to be more... open-minded."

Severus felt a surge of heat rise in his cheeks, his resolve waning in the face of Hermione's unabashed provocation. He knew he should end the conversation to end the temptation that threatened to consume him, but the allure of her presence was too potent to resist.

"Miss Granger," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "you test my patience in ways you cannot begin to comprehend."

But Hermione's smile only widened, her eyes alight with a fire that matched his own. "Maybe I like testing your patience, Father. Maybe I like seeing just how far I can push you."

Severus swallowed hard, the turmoil within him reaching a fever pitch as he struggled to maintain his composure. The forbidden desire that simmered beneath the surface threatened to consume him whole, but he knew he must resist, for to succumb to temptation would be to betray everything he had sworn to uphold.

He took a deep breath, resigning himself to his fate, knowing that he must do the right thing regardless of the personal cost. "Miss Granger, it is time to learn the consequence of your misbehavior. Go into that corner over there, bend over, and brace your hands against the wall." His eyes darken.

Hermione feigned innocence, giving Severus puppy-dog eyes. "What? Why?"

"Do you want to face the double punishment if you continue to delay? Go, I dare you."

Hermione's breath hitched before she shuffled slowly to the corner of the room, turning to face the wall as she bent over. Her plump ass pushed against her school skirt as she placed her palms flat against the wall, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Severus rose from his seat, taking slow, deliberate steps as he walked towards Hermione. The tension in the air was palpable, the anticipation growing with each second. He loomed over her, his dark eyes burning with desire.

"Your insolence and impudence are unacceptable," Severus says in a silken voice. "Count." Severus pulls the ruler away and smacks it hard against Hermione's ass. He did this five times.

Hermione gives a small gasp each time, her legs quivering, her pert cheeks clenching from the sting of the ruler. "A-aren't you supposed to be forgiving, Father? Didn't Our Savior Jesus Christ say something about forgiving us seventy times seven?" Her response brings an evil smirk to Severus's lips, and he slowly walks around to her front to stand directly before Hermione. Her body trembling with want and anticipation.

"Are you asking me to forgive you?" His baritone timbre made Hermione's thighs quake.

"N-no."

"Good. You do not deserve forgiveness for your trespasses."

Severus moves swiftly back behind her, raises his free hand, and grabs a handful of Hermione's hair, pulling her head back from the wall. He leans forward and hisses into her ear.

"Your behavior reflects your inner corruption. Dirty little whores like you deserve to be punished for such insolence and misbehavior."

Severus drops the ruler to the floor in one fluid movement, snaking his arm around Hermione's waist. He unfastens her tie, placing it to the side, and begins working on the top two buttons of her blouse, just enough to give him access to the soft flesh of her breasts.

Hermione's breath hitches at the cool touch of Severus's leather glove, her nipples hardened against the lace cups of her bra. Her mouth is parted, panting softly, eyes fluttering closed as Severus's gloved hand caresses her supple chest, fingers brushing across her mounds and flicking her pebbled peaks through the fabric of her clothing.

"Perhaps I have yet to extract the inner depravity that lurks within." He whispers into the shell of her ear, teeth gently scraping against her jaw. "Our God should weep at the sins you will commit under my watch, Miss Granger."

Hermione's whimper becomes a loud groan of impatience as her wrists tug against her restraints. Severus's chuckle reverberates in his chest, the sound traveling throughout her body as she aches for his touch. With one of his hands gripping her torso, his free hand drops to his trousers, readjusting his belt.

Maintaining a gentle grasp on her curls, Severus pulls Hermione's body back as he unzips his pants and frees his massive manhood from its confines. Her eyes become wide in desire as she feels the thick weight against her clothed backside. Her senses go into overdrive, wishing to turn to gaze at him, the curve of his length making her cunt ache to be full.

"Let us see if we can unleash your true nature, hm?"

His breath is hot against the back of her neck, gloved fingers slipping under the waistband of her panties, tugging them aside. An electric current runs through Hermione's veins as the cool leather delicately brushes against her sensitive skin. Severus tugs at her curls, indicating her to dip her torso forward. Hermione follows his guidance, angling her pelvis and exposing her dripping pussy.

She can feel Severus's hardened manhood between her cheeks, gently rocking her hips to tease his leaking tip.

"And so impatient," Severus teases, releasing her waist and retrieving his manhood to rub along her drenched folds, coating himself in her slick. He watches, mesmerized, as he teases her sweet entrance.

"Please," Hermione purrs, looking over her shoulder with lidded eyes. "Need to be filled with you, Father."

He will not be asked twice. Severus slowly pushes the entire length of his shaft into her tight cunt, a satisfied hiss spilling from his lips. Her velvety walls pulsate around him, and he pulls back, maintaining only his tip within her as he makes her wait. Oh, how much Severus wanted to spill his seed inside her. To see her flat stomach slowly get rounded as she bear his children. Priest's children. Severus' cock twitched as he imagined her tight cunt filled to the brim with his spunk. He knew he wasn't supposed to do this. He wasn't supposed to be even imagining to fuck his student.

"Please! Move, please!" Hermione cries out, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, fingers gripping the flat wall.

Severus complies, pushing his throbbing shaft deeper into her, slowly easing his thrusts, allowing her body to become adjusted to the rhythm of his penetration. Hermione goes back, matching Severus's deep, aching penetrations. He smiles to himself, a moan on his lips. His fingertips find the hem of her shirt and blouse, bringing them up and exposing her bare back.

"So obedient, Miss Granger."

Severus reaches for her, turning her to look at him over her shoulder. He catches her sweet lips in a kiss, gloved fingers biting into the flesh of her hip as he continues to plow into her. A devilish smirk appears on his face, eyes darkening with sinful intent, before bringing his free hand back, delivering a firm smack to her bare ass cheek.

Hermione cries out at the slap, her cheeks pinking and glistening, arousal pooling in the corners of her mouth. "Fuck, yes! Give me more, Father," she pants. "More!"

Severus does just that, hitting her delectable ass, delighting in the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing off the detention room walls. She continues to ask for more, his pace never wavering as he delivers punishing blows to her supple behind. "Confess your sins now as I pound your slutty cunt harder." He growled.

He fucks her harder, gritting his teeth to concentrate on the task at hand. The burning sensation travels up his arms with each crack against her mounds, his cock twitching within her velvet walls. Fuck, his release is close; he can feel it, his eyes transfixed on her reddened butt.

"F-fuck!" Hermione shouts as the last of her coherent thoughts floods away, "I've been bad, Father Snape!"

"You have, my little witch," he coos into her ear. "Will you repent and accept your penance?"

Hermione nods fervently, eyes rolling in the back of her head from the onslaught of sensations of the priest's giant cock as it spreads her petals and spears her walls. "Please, Father, I'll do anything. Just please let me cum. Fill me, I'm all yours, Father."

"Yesss," Severus rumbles, a deep moan caught in his throat as his hands press against the wall in front of him, his shaft pounding harder into her. He reaches a gloved hand down and rubs the delicious hooded pearl between Hermione's spread lips.

She arches her back at the touch, pressing her ass further against his balls that have become firm from the position and want, throbbing to spurt deep inside her. Hermione was a beautiful, disheveled, moaning, and sweaty mess, and Severus was a complete goner. He is now in heaven and hell.

His thumb continues to circle Hermione's clit, pushing her towards the edge as his hips buck at a steady pace. "Cum," he growls with a dark voice.

The air turns heavy, making breathing harder for both of them. Sweat from their bodies drips down onto the linoleum floor, both panting for air as he rams harder, faster into her. "Severus..." his name trails from her kiss-swollen lips.

His response is a guttural grunt. "Hmph. Not gonna last... Hermione... need you... to cum. Fuck!"

His finger pads travel to her hardened bud, his tongue swiping across his lip as his face screws up in concentration, pounding into her with fast and relentless strokes. The knot in his stomach tightens, threatening to snap, but he refuses to release it until she crests around his rigid shaft.

It takes one last punishing strike to her ass and pinching her clit before she throws her head back and screams, "Fath—"

"Shh," he cautions in a low, raspy tone. "Don't tell the world how you are under my spell, little witch."

She bites her bottom lip, and Severus marvels at how she looks wholly wrecked, her face flushed and her tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Damn you, Father Snape! Feels too good, hngh!"

"Do not play that holy game with me, Miss Granger. Don't act like you're not enjoying this," he smirks, feeling his release coming closer.

He can feel the heat rise to her core, and he gives one final push, shoving his throbbing cock as deep as possible, stilling his hips as he grips her messy curls.

The hand that has been working her clit and making her writhe and moan comes up, collecting his handiwork. Severus slips his fingers into his mouth, the tangy essence of Hermione mixing with his saliva and giving him exactly what he needs.

She tasted as sinful as he imagined her.

Severus pulls his shaft almost all the way out of her before slamming back home, spilling his white hot release within Hermione's splayed folds.

Both of them panting hard, trying to catch their breath. She's so desperate for air, but fuck, that felt so good.

"F-Fuck, Father Snape," Hermione groans, realizing her backside hurts after being hit a lot of times while she rides her high. Hermione let out a quiet gasp as her juices, mixed with Severus's release, began to drip down her leg. It feels so wet. And warm. Her body wilted on his now softening dick, her elbows resting on the wall.

"Such a beautiful mess," Severus grinned, his dimples reappearing.

He removes his member, admiring the white that leaks from her dripping entrance. He walks to her front, pushing his slick digits to her lips. Hermione wets her lips, gladly taking his middle finger into her mouth, cleaning her previous secretions.

He watches as she closes her lips around his index finger, pulling his soaked thumb from her grasp. His chin drops to his chest, chest heaving as she cleans his gloved fingers of her remains. Severus catches her eyes, pulling his hand back, replacing his penis with the zipper of his pants.

"Such a gorgeous slut, Miss Granger. The way your body responded to my touch... I was right."

"Always a pleasure, Father," Hermione purrs, the sincerity in her eyes belying the sarcasm in her voice. "I want to have more detentions." She added.

"Oh, you'll have more, my child."

Chapter Text

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The forest was alive with the whisper of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl as Sirius Black and Hermione Granger navigated their way through the dense underbrush. The canopy above cast dappled shadows on the forest floor, creating a sense of secrecy and seclusion that was comforting and nerve-wracking.

Sirius glanced over at Hermione, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her navigate the uneven terrain with a grace that belied her usual studious demeanor. Her bushy hair caught the moonlight, giving it an ethereal glow, and her eyes sparkled with determination and excitement.

They had been on the run for weeks since Sirius managed to escape from Azkaban with the help of Harry Potter and his friends. Dumbledore had tasked him with laying low, staying out of sight until they could gather enough evidence to clear his name. Meeting Hermione made him, how can he explain it, alive. He felt so alive when he laid his eyes on her and saved him using the time turner. He corresponded with her, and before he knew it, they were inseparable. Hermione had insisted on joining him in hiding, refusing to let him face his demons alone. She had helped him set up camp in the forest's heart, using her extensive knowledge of magic to ward off unwanted visitors.

As they trudged through the underbrush, Sirius couldn't help but marvel at the turn his life had taken. He had spent so many years in darkness, consumed by anger and bitterness, but now... now he had Hermione by his side, a beacon of light in the darkness.

Suddenly, Hermione stumbled, a cry of pain escaping her lips as she fell to the ground. Sirius was by her side instantly, his heart pounding with fear as he knelt beside her.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Hermione winced as she gingerly sat up, rubbing her ankle where she had twisted it in her fall. "I think I'll be fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Just a bit bruised, that's all."

But Sirius could see through her bravado. He could see the pain etched in her features, the way she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her back to their campsite.

Hermione protested weakly, insisting that she could walk alone, but Sirius silenced her with a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Let me take care of you, Babe," he murmured, his voice soft with emotion.

"Thank you," Hermione blushed as she looked at Sirius' gray eyes. Her heart pounded fast as she stared at his gray eyes while he carried her, his straggly dark hair slightly falling down his face. He's incredibly handsome despite his decrepit looks from running away and living in the forest.

"I'm handsome, right?" Sirius asked with a wink to Hermione as he noticed she had been staring at him.

Hermione's cheeks deepened in color as she registered Sirius' question. She couldn't help but chuckle at his self-assured grin, even amid their precarious situation.

"Is that a serious question, Sirius?" she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "Considering we're running from the Ministry, living in a forest, and you just saved me from tripping over a tree root, I'd say your rugged look suits you."

Sirius chuckled, the sound vibrating against Hermione's back as he continued to carry her effortlessly. "Well, I do try my best to make running from the law look good," he teased.

The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow on their path as they reached the edge of the clearing where they had set up camp. Sirius carefully lowered Hermione to the ground, ensuring she was comfortable before sitting beside her.

Hermione couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight played on Sirius' features, accentuating the lines of his face and the intensity of his gray eyes. "Alright, Sirius, you win," she admitted with a smile. "You're incredibly handsome, even with the whole 'fugitive on the run' aesthetic."

Sirius grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Glad to hear it. Not every day a wanted man gets compliments on his appearance."

As they settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of a small campfire providing a soft background soundtrack, Sirius turned to Hermione with a more serious expression. "But in all honesty, Hermione, thank you. For being here with me, not judging me based on my past, and seeing beyond the rumors and lies."

Hermione placed a gentle hand on Sirius' arm, her eyes meeting his with sincerity. "You don't have to thank me, Sirius. We're in this together, remember? I believe in you, and we'll find a way to clear your name."

Sirius reached for Hermione's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I'm lucky to have you by my side, Hermione Granger. And I wouldn't want to be on the run with anyone else."

As they sat by the campfire, their hands entwined, the forest echoed with the quiet sounds of the night. Little did they know their challenges were just beginning, but with each other, they felt a strength and connection that made them ready to face whatever lay ahead in the shadows of the wizarding world.

"We could really use a bath," Hermione remarked, wrinkling her nose as she glanced down at her dirt-streaked clothes.

Sirius nodded in agreement, a grin spreading across his face as he reached for Hermione's hand. "I couldn't agree more. And lucky for us, this lake is the perfect spot for a little dip."

With that, they stepped into the crystal-clear water of the nearby lake from where they camped, the cool liquid lapping at their feet as they waded further out. The sun danced on the surface, creating patterns of light and shadow that danced across their skin.

As they reached a deeper spot, Sirius turned to Hermione with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Race you to that rock over there?" he challenged, pointing to a large boulder jutting out of the water a few yards away.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, a competitive gleam entering her gaze. "You're on, Black," she replied, her lips quirking into a playful smile.

And with that, they were off, their laughter echoing across the water as they raced through the shallows. The cool water felt invigorating against their skin, washing away the grime and sweat of days spent on the run.

As they reached the rock, Sirius reached out a hand to help Hermione climb up beside him. They sat side by side, their legs dangling over the edge as they caught their breath.

The sun sank lower in the sky, painting the world in shades of pink and gold as the day gave way to dusk. The air was charged with a palpable tension, a crackling energy that seemed to hum between them.

Hermione glanced over at Sirius, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw him beside her. His hair was damp and tousled, clinging to his forehead in dark curls, and his gray eyes seemed to sparkle in the fading light.

Sirius turned to Hermione, his gaze lingering on her face with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "You know," he began, his voice low and husky, "I can't remember the last time I felt this alive."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening as she felt the weight of Sirius' words sink in. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel seen and understood, that stirred something deep within her.

Without a word, Sirius reached out a hand to cup Hermione's cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his hand against her skin.

And then, before she could fully comprehend what was happening, Sirius leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. It was soft and gentle at first, a tentative exploration of lips and tongues as they tested the waters of their desire.

But soon, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate as they lost themselves. Hermione's hands tangled in Sirius' hair, pulling him closer as she melted against him, her body humming with desire. Hermione held Sirius close, reveling in the feel of his body pressed against hers. She could taste the hint of oak on his tongue as he explored her mouth, teasing and tempting her until she was gasping for air. Her hands wandered the length of his back, tracing the curve of his spine, until they came to rest in the tangle of his raven locks. The scent of him, musky and masculine, filled her senses and made her head spin. Sirius Black was intoxicating, and Hermione knew she was quickly falling under his spell.

Sirius pulled away briefly, his gaze searching Hermione's as if to ask if she was okay. The longing she saw in his eyes mirrored her own, and she smiled softly as she leaned in to capture his lips once more. This was pure insanity, a voice in her head cried out, but Hermione had long since left sanity behind when she chose to run with Sirius. And at that moment, with Sirius' arms wrapped tightly around her as he held her close, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Hermione felt Sirius pull back slightly, and she couldn't help the little moan of disappointment that escaped her lips. However, the intense way Sirius stared at her took her breath away. His piercing gaze was almost mesmerizing, and she could hear his thoughts as they raced through his head. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking and how he felt about her. The moment seemed frozen in time, yet simultaneously moved much too fast. Sirius' breath tickled her face and reminded her of their closeness.

"W-what?" Hermione stammered.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop. Fuck, Hermione, I want to just fuck you relentlessly." He growled.

Sirius' words sent Hermione a thrill of excitement and anticipation, but she forced herself to remain composed. "I want this, Sirius," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest as his hand ran down her shoulder and arm.

His hand grabbed her breast and a shiver ran through her body, the feeling both strange and exciting. He squeezed lightly and then leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth. The kiss became more heated, more passionate, and Hermione found herself grinding her hips against him as his hand caressed her back and neck. Hermione couldn't believe the incredible turn of events.

Her brain told her that what they were doing was wrong, but her body refused to listen. She had never felt so attracted to anyone before, and it took all her willpower not to give in to her carnal desires and let Sirius ravage her. "I don't want you to stop," Hermione whispered, her voice husky with need.

"I can be a lot for people to handle," Sirius replied.

Hermione kissed him even more fiercely and wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled his face closer and deepened their embrace.

He grabbed her ass and lowered his other hand in between her legs as he bit her neck gently. She cried out with surprise and pleasure. Her voice echoed off the water, mixing with the chirps of the birds coming out from the forest.

Sirius watched her reactions intensely, and he could tell she was just as turned on as he was. Her skin was flushed and hot, and her breathing was shallow and erratic. He continued his ministrations, pulling one nipple in between his lips and sucking hard while moving his hand in between her legs and rubbing her mound roughly.

A chill went up Hermione's spine, and she knew it was time. She wanted him in her and on her. She had never wanted anything or anyone so badly, and she was done with playing games. She licked Sirius' face, her tongue running along his jawline. Sirius pulled away from her.

"Tell me what you want." Sirius breathed heavily.

"Fuck me." Hermione pleaded. "Make me yours."

Sirius grinned as he pressed Hermione down into the lake's dirt and soft grassy bank. His cock brushed against her entrance, and she moaned in anticipation. She hadn't felt so aroused before. His intense gaze caused her walls to quiver, and the feeling drove her mad. The tension was almost unbearable.

Sirius teased Hermione even more by lifting her leg above his hip, drawing her closer to him. "Are you ready, babe?" he whispered seductively, his cock throbbing with his anticipation.

"Yes," she whispered.

As he slowly entered her, Hermione couldn't contain the loud moan that escaped her lips. "Shh. Someone will hear you."

The feeling of Sirius stretching and filling her was bliss. She hadn't realized how much she desired this, but she had been aching for him since they met. He slowly withdrew his length from her, then slammed back in. A jolt of pleasure rocked through Hermione's body, and she let out a cry of pleasure.

Sirius continued his slow and sensual pace, occasionally grabbing a breast or ass cheek, and touching her in ways that only heightened her lust. Hermione was overcome with bliss as his cock continually rubbed against her sensitive walls, while he teased her nipples.

The desire grew more intense, and she screamed, "Faster! Oh, Merlin, that feels so good."

"Don't be too loud, love," Sirius cautioned.

She groaned and whimpered. Her breaths came out in ragged pants, and she grabbed a fistful of his hair. "I love it."

He continued to thrust deeper and harder. He moved his hand from her hair to her clit and massaged it, intensifying her ecstasy and moans. Hermione began to cry out as her orgasm rocked through her body. Stars exploded in her vision, and her entire body intensified.

"Oh, fuck." She moaned, trying to stifle her sounds.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yes..." Hermione took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. "That was... amazing."

"We're not done yet, Babe," Sirius said with a grin before flipping Hermione on her stomach, her ass on the air before Sirius spanked her.

He lined his cock onto Hermione's dripping pussy and pushed it in, causing a loud yelp. "You're gonna have to be quiet, or they might send Dementors after us."

She nodded, then bit her lips as Sirius thrust inside of her. Her juices dripped on the grass. Sirius' hands gripped her waist, guiding her movements as he continued pounding her from behind. His other hand slithered unto her neck, Hermione gasped as she struggled to breathe, her cunt tightening around Sirius' cock. His muscular chest brushed against her back, and his heavy, warm breath on her nape turned her on even more. "Be a good girl, Hermione."

Each time he slammed his hips against her, his dick drove deeper. Her breasts bounced with every powerful thrust, and he used his fingers to tease her nipple. She pushed back against him as he picked up speed, craving every last inch of him. Her arms and legs began to grow weak and they trembled. She was already on the edge.

"Come, Hermione," He grunted, taking her over the edge.

Hermione dug her fingers into the ground and screamed. Her limbs gave way to exhaustion, and the world disappeared. Nothing else mattered. Only the sweet release of pleasure rocked her world.

She barely noticed when he joined her, releasing his hot seed inside her womb and the two went weak on their knees, staring at the lake in their naked forms as the moon bathed their bodies in its faint light.

"You're quite a moaner, My Love,"

"Oh, shush." Hermione slapped Sirius playfully on the shoulder before curling up in his embrace.

Hermione rested her head on Sirius' muscular chest and Sirius kissed her forehead. The cold wind that blew around made her shiver but her warmth returned when Sirius hugged her more tightly. Her body fit perfectly against his. She shut her eyes, completely content.

"Can we do it again?" she whispered softly.

"Give me a minute, babe."

Hermione grinned as she moved her body higher so that she could wrap her arms around Sirius' neck and kiss him, Sirius grabbed her ass with both hands. "Okay, I think I'm ready now."

Her eyes locked onto his. She never realized how much she needed this until they made love. She rolled her body, positioning herself on top of Sirius, and he guided his cock into her.

She closed her eyes as Sirius pushed in, filling her. The feeling was almost indescribable. She moaned softly as her body adjusted to his size. Her eyes snapped open and she looked into him as they rocked against each other.

She leaned down and kissed him, her lips brushing his and sending a spark of electricity. She moved her hips slowly, grinding against him and feeling every inch of his cock as it slid in and out. Sirius gripped her waist, pulling her towards him as his hips bucked, and his cock filled her to the hilt.

They lost themselves in the moment, their bodies moving in sync as they made love under the stars. Their moans and cries of pleasure echoed through the forest, and the lake reflected the moon. The wind howled in the night. It was a perfect night; Hermione had never felt so free and loved. She looked at Sirius, his gray eyes twinkling with passion and desire, and she knew he was the one for her.

She rode him harder, faster, chasing the pleasure that threatened to consume her. Sirius gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he urged her on. The heat between them grew, their bodies slick with sweat as they moved together.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Sirius groaned, his eyes never leaving hers.

She felt the pleasure building inside her, coiling tighter with every stroke. She rocked her hips, matching his rhythm, and she could tell he was close, too.

"Sirius," she gasped, her voice a plea. "I'm going to cum."

"Cum for me, baby."

And she did. Her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, washing away all thoughts and fears, leaving only pleasure and bliss in its wake. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembled.

Sirius held her close, his arms wrapping around her and keeping her steady. "Fuck, you're amazing," he breathed, his voice ragged.

He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth as she came down from her high. The intensity of their lovemaking had left her completely spent, and she collapsed against his chest, her body molding perfectly against his.

Hermione and Sirius Black remained entangled on the rock, their breaths calming and hearts beating in unison as they bathed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. The moonlight danced on the lake's surface, illuminating their bare skin and casting shadows that seemed to dance across their bodies.

They were finally at peace.

Sirius knew he could face anything as long as he had his beloved beside him.

Chapter Text

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In the aftermath of the war, Hermione Granger found herself grappling with her disillusionment. The victory over Voldemort had come at a high cost, but what followed was not the utopia she had envisioned. Instead, once a beacon of hope, the Ministry of Magic now stood as a shattered institution rife with corruption and inefficiency.

Walking through the halls of the Ministry, Hermione couldn't shake the sense of betrayal that gnawed at her core. The same bureaucracy that had failed to heed the warnings of the impending war now fumbled in its attempts to rebuild society. Greed and self-interest pervaded every corner, casting a pall over the ideals they had fought for.

As she passed by the offices of high-ranking officials, Hermione couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversations laden with deceit and manipulation. Promises made and broken, favors exchanged in darkened corridors — it was a far cry from the principles of justice and equality she had once championed.

"I'm not saying that the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione Granger, is prude and unattractive and will likely be an old maid, but... that's what I'm saying." An Auror around Hermione's age said. Hermione froze in her tracks and hid behind a wall. Merlin's sake, all he wanted was to go back to her office to handle paperwork. Besides, she's far from an old maid! She's just 24!

"Well, her boyfriend, Ron Weasley, did break up with her for a reason." Another man said before the two men laughed.

Hermione felt anger and humiliation rise as she listened to the conversation from her concealed position behind the wall. The words cut through her like knives, each a painful reminder of the disdain and ridicule she faced from her peers within the Ministry.

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before cautiously peering around the corner. The two Aurors, oblivious to her presence, continued their conversation with smirks across their faces.

"She's always been too focused on her work, never knows how to loosen up and have a good time," the first Auror remarked, his tone dripping with condescension.

"Exactly! Who wants to be with someone like that?" the second Auror chimed in, his laughter echoing down the corridor.

Hermione's jaw clenched as she fought back the urge to retort. She knew her worth wasn't defined by their shallow opinions, but the sting of their words lingered nonetheless. 

"Excuse me," she said, her voice cutting through their laughter like a blade as she showed herself to the two men. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I must say, I'm disappointed to see members of the Ministry engaging in such juvenile behavior."

The Aurors' laughter faltered, replaced by expressions of surprise and discomfort as they realized they had been caught in the act. They exchanged nervous glances, their earlier bravado crumbling under Hermione's unwavering stare.

"I suggest you focus on your duties instead of gossiping like schoolchildren," Hermione continued, her tone icy with disdain. "We have more important matters to attend to than spreading baseless rumors about one another."

Without waiting for a response, Hermione turned on her heel and strode down the corridor. She refused to let their petty words diminish her resolve. Hermione's heart sank as she sank into her seat, the weight of their words pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. With trembling hands, she reached for the small mirror on her desk, dreading what she might see reflected at her. As she gazed into the glass, her breath caught in her throat.

The face that stared back at her seemed foreign, distorted by the lens of self-doubt and insecurity. Lines of exhaustion etched themselves into her features, dark circles lurking beneath her eyes like shadows. She felt a wave of revulsion wash over her, the sight of her reflection only serving to reinforce the cruel words of her colleagues.

Disgusting. Ugly. The words echoed in Hermione's mind, taunting her with their merciless truth. She tried to push them away, to summon the strength to refute their cruel assessment of her worth. But the doubts lingered, festering like a wound that refused to heal.

Tears pricked at the corners of Hermione's eyes as she struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. A crushing sense of inadequacy settled over her like a shroud, suffocating any flicker of self-confidence. With a bitter twist of her lips, Hermione glanced down at her schedule, her thoughts drifting to the dreaded visit to Azkaban. It was a task she had been putting off for weeks, but the time had finally come to confront the ghosts of the past.

As she scanned the list of names, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of one in particular: Fenrir Greyback. The mere mention of his name sent a shiver of revulsion coursing through her veins, stirring memories she would much rather forget.

Fenrir Greyback—a name synonymous with fear and loathing, a man whose presence filled her with dread. From the moment they first crossed paths during the darkest days of the war, he had made it his mission to torment her with his lecherous advances, his words dripping with malice and innuendo.

The memory of his inappropriate flirtations made her skin crawl. "At least someone finds me attractive," Hermione muttered bitterly under her breath, her voice thick with sarcasm.

With a resigned sigh, Hermione squared her shoulders and tucked her schedule under her arm, steeling herself for the unpleasant task ahead. She may have despised Fenrir Greyback with every fiber of her being, but this is her duty, no matter how distasteful the journey might be.

—-

Hermione stepped through the imposing gates of Azkaban, her footsteps echoing hollowly against the cold stone walls of the prison. The air hung heavy with the stench of decay and despair, a palpable reminder of the darkness within its walls.

With each step she took, Hermione felt the weight of her apprehension grow heavier. She knew facing Fenrir Greyback would be difficult, but it was necessary. As she made her way through the labyrinthine corridors of the prison, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her core.

Finally, she arrived at Fenrir's cell, a small, dimly lit chamber tucked away in the bowels of the prison. The sight of him sent a shiver down her spine, his eyes gleaming with a feral intensity as he lounged against the stone wall, his posture relaxed yet predatory.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Hermione Granger paying me a visit," Fenrir drawled, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "To what do I owe the pleasure, darling? Come to hear more of my charming wit and irresistible charm?"

Hermione fought to suppress a shudder at the sound of his voice, his words sending a wave of revulsion coursing through her veins. She knew better than to let his taunts get to her, but the memory of his past indiscretions lingered like a foul odor, impossible to ignore.

"I'm here to conduct your therapy session, Fenrir," Hermione replied, her tone firm and resolute. "As part of your rehabilitation program, you are required to participate in regular sessions to address your... behavioral issues."

Fenrir chuckled darkly, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her skin crawl. "Ah, yes, my behavioral issues," he purred, a wicked grin on his face. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Hermione. It gets my blood pumping if you catch my drift."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with anger, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She refused to let Fenrir's crude remarks unsettle her, but the mere sound of his voice sent a wave of nausea churning in the pit of her stomach.

"Let's just get on with it, shall we?" she snapped, her patience wearing thin. "I'm here to assess your progress, not to indulge your juvenile fantasies."

Fenrir's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Oh, Hermione, you know you love it when I push your buttons," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Admit it, darling, you can't resist the thrill of the chase."

Hermione gritted her teeth, her jaw clenched with frustration. She knew she had to maintain her composure to resist the urge to give in to his taunts. But with Fenrir's words echoing in her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if she was fighting a losing battle.

"So, any dreams for the future?" Hermione prodded as she crossed her legs, her pen tapping on her clipboard.

"Hmm. Have a family. Breed with my lovely wife; well, she still doesn't exist. But you get my point." Fenrir said, accentuating the word breed that made Hermione shiver.

Hermione stifled a shudder at Fenrir's choice of words, his tone dripping with a sickening blend of lasciviousness and malice. She forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, determined not to let him see how much his words affected her.

"Family, you say?" she replied, her voice steady despite the unease gnawing at her insides. "And what exactly do you envision for this... hypothetical wife of yours?"

Fenrir smirked, his eyes alight with a predatory gleam as he leaned back against the stone wall of his cell. "Oh, she'll be everything I've ever dreamed of and more," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "Strong, fierce, with a fire burning deep within her. Just like you, Hermione."

Hermione fought to suppress a shudder at the comparison, her stomach churning with revulsion. She couldn't fathom the idea of being linked in any way to the likes of Fenrir Greyback, let alone as the object of his twisted desires.

"I see," she said tersely, her fingers tightening around the pen. "And what about your role in this... idyllic family? How do you envision yourself fitting into the picture?"

Fenrir chuckled darkly, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her skin crawl. "Oh, you know me, Hermione," he said, his voice laced with sinister undertones. "I'll be the strong, dominant alpha, leading my pack with an iron fist. And when the time comes, I'll be the one to ensure our bloodline continues for generations to come."

"And what exactly is a strong, dominant alpha like? Sexual innuendos don't count," Hermione said while crossing her arms. Fenrir laughed darkly, slinging both his arms at his seat's armrest.

"Oh, let me see," Fenrir said with a grin as he thought of a witty response. "A strong, dominant alpha," he began, his voice low and husky, "commands respect and leads with confidence and authority. They're not afraid to take charge, to make tough decisions when the time calls for it."

Hermione nodded, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest as she listened intently to his words. Despite her apprehension, she couldn't deny the undeniable magnetism of his presence, the way he seemed to exude power with every word he spoke.

"But more than that," Fenrir continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, "a true alpha knows how to protect what's theirs. They're fiercely loyal to those they care about, willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe from harm."

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine at the intensity of his words, the underlying threat unmistakable in his tone. She knew she should be repulsed by his manipulative tactics, but a part of her couldn't help but feel a perverse fascination with the dark allure of his presence.

"Of course," Fenrir added with a wicked grin, "it doesn't hurt if they're also skilled in... other areas of expertise. But I suppose that's beside the point, isn't it, Hermione?"

Hermione's jaw clenched with frustration at his thinly veiled insinuation, her resolve hardening as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of his taunts. She refused to let him see how much his words affected her, how they stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions deep within her soul.

"Indeed," she replied coolly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "But let's stay focused on the matter, shall we? We're here to discuss your therapy progress, not indulge in idle fantasies."

"Oh, but I want to discuss our idle fantasies, Princess." He said, his voice dripping with seduction.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Fenrir's words washed over her, a heady mixture of desire and revulsion coursing through her veins. She fought to maintain her composure, to push back the flood of conflicting emotions threatening to overwhelm her, but his words struck a chord deep within her soul.

The term "Princess" rolled off his tongue seductively, sending a shiver of anticipation dancing down Hermione's spine. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to entertain the fantasy, to imagine what it would be like to be treated with the reverence and adoration she had so often craved.

But the illusion shattered as quickly as it had formed, replaced by the harsh reality of Fenrir's twisted intentions. His words were nothing more than a cruel manipulation designed to exploit her vulnerabilities and undermine her sense of self-worth.

"You like that, don't you?" Fenrir purred, his voice dripping with seduction. You want to be treated like the woman you are, not as one of the boys, not as Head Auror, and certainly not as an ugly duckling."

Hermione felt her heart race at his words, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks as she struggled to suppress the desire that threatened to consume her. She knew she should be repulsed by his advances, but a part of her couldn't help but revel in the attention, in the fleeting glimpse of validation he offered.

But even as she basked in the warmth of his flattery, a voice whispered within her, reminding her of the dangers of succumbing to his charms. She knew she was playing with fire, dancing dangerously close to the flames of temptation, but she couldn't pull away.

"Why do you do this?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless exhale. "Why do you insist on tormenting me like this?"

Fenrir's smirk widened, his eyes twinkling with a wicked gleam as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Because, my dear Hermione," he murmured, his voice dripping with malice, "I enjoy watching you squirm. I enjoy knowing that I hold power over you and can reduce you to nothing more than a quivering mess with a few choice words."

Hermione's breath hitched as Fenrir's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. His fingers, long and sinuous fingers, traced a delicate path along her jawline, leaving a fire trail in their wake. She fought to suppress a shudder, her skin prickling with the sensation of his touch.

"Fenrir, please," she whispered, her voice barely more than a pleading plea. "This... this isn't appropriate. We're here for a session, nothing more."

Fenrir chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a predatory grin as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Oh, but Hermione, darling," he murmured, his voice low and husky. Where's the fun in that? Can't we indulge in a little extracurricular activity? Just between the two of us?"

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeling with a dizzying array of conflicting emotions. She knew she should pull away to end his advances once and for all. But a part of her couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of his touch, the way he seemed to awaken a primal hunger deep within her soul.

“We can't... we shouldn't..."

But her words trailed off into a breathless gasp as Fenrir's lips brushed against her earlobe, sending a shiver of desire racing down her spine. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and she found herself powerless to resist its pull.

"Shh, Hermione," Fenrir whispered, his voice dripping with seduction. "Don't fight it. You know you want this just as much as I do. Let go of everything."

Hermione's blood roared in her ears as Fenrir's lips met hers. His kiss was filled with a dark, sensual hunger that sent shivers down her spine. Her head spun as he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Hermione knew she should stop, but she could not resist the all-consuming passion that burned between them. Her body ached for him, every fiber of her crying out for his touch. As he claimed her lips once more, she knew she was lost. There was no going back, no denying the raw, animalistic desire that surged through her veins. His tongue explored her relentlessly.

"Fenrir..." she breathed into his lips, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Fenrir's eyes were blazing with an intense, fiery passion as he gazed down at her, his lips curling into a feral grin. "I'm going to devour and breed you, Hermione," he growled, his voice low and husky.

Hermione's head was still spinning from the intensity of the kiss when she felt Fenrir's fingers trace a delicate path down her jawline. She was unable to suppress a shudder of desire, her body responding instinctively to his touch. The sheer idea that someone would see her being bred by a prisoner in Azkaban's cells sent a thrill down her spine.

Fenrir's hand was snaking beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers dancing dangerously close to her wetness. Hermione bit back a moan, her hips bucking involuntarily, desperate for more contact. Her skin was on fire, every nerve ending alive with an intense, all-consuming need. She knew she should push him away to end his advances before they spiraled out of control. But the last shreds of her sanity were fading away, consumed by the heady, intoxicating mixture of desire and lust.

"You're going to be the mother of my pups. These tits will be filled with milk to feed MY children." Fenrir growled, his voice low and husky.

Hermione shuddered, a jolt of pure pleasure coursing through her veins. His words were like a drug, the sheer filthiness of his intentions driving her wild. She had never felt such intense desire, her body aching with a dark, primal need.

"Fuck me, Fenrir," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless exhale. "Fill me."

His lips curled into a wolfish grin, his eyes blazing with fiery, predatory lust. With a low, feral growl, he pushed her against the cold stone wall, her back arching involuntarily as his mouth claimed hers. His touch was like a drug, addictive and intoxicating, and she was powerless to resist its pull. As his hands roamed across her skin, her body responded instinctively, her hips grinding against his, desperate for more contact.

Her hands explored the hard planes of his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscular torso. Her senses were on overload, her mind reeling from the sheer intensity of their encounter. It was all she could do to cling to his shoulders as he ravaged her, his kisses hungry and demanding.

"You're mine, Hermione," Fenrir growled, his voice thick with desire. "Now and forever."

She trembled, his words echoing in her ears, sending a thrill of forbidden pleasure coursing through her veins. There was something dangerously alluring about the knowledge that he had claimed her as his own, marking her as his mate, his partner.

The raw, animalistic urges that had been consuming her intensified, her body aching for his touch. She needed him, wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. She was lost, her mind and body surrendering to the dark, sensual desires of his touch.

She gasped as he tore away her underwear, the delicate fabric ripping under the force of his grip. Her heart was racing, her body taut with anticipation as his hand delved between her legs, his fingers sliding into her folds.

"You're so wet, Hermione," Fenrir rasped, his voice thick with desire. "So hot, so ready."

Hermione cried out as his fingers thrust into her, her body responding instinctively to his touch. She could feel the coil of tension inside her building, her hips rocking against his hand, desperate for release.

Her fingers were tangled in his matted hair, her head thrown back as she rode the waves of pleasure, her body responding instinctively to his touch. She could feel the coil of tension inside her building, her hips rocking against his hand, desperate for release.

Hermione's breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body quaking as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy. She clung to him, her mind and body lost in the haze of desire, her skin tingling with anticipation.

With a strangled cry, she shattered, her climax ripping through her, her body convulsing as she surrendered to the pleasure. It was all she could do to cling to his shoulders, her body trembling as he drove her higher and higher, the waves of ecstasy washing over her.

As she rode the waves of pleasure, her body throbbing with the aftershocks, Fenrir's hands were snaking around her hips, his fingers gripping her thighs. She was barely aware of him lifting her, his movements feral and predatory as he positioned her against the wall.

"I'm now going to fill your womb with my seed, Hermione," he growled.

Hermione moaned, her mind reeling from the intensity of their encounter, the raw, primal need coursing through her veins. She was his, her body aching for his touch, her mind surrendering to the dark, seductive demands of his desires. He was a predator, a wolf, and she was his prey, the object of his lust and conquest.

Hermione gasped as he slammed into her, his cock filling her, stretching her. The feeling was almost too much, her body struggling to accommodate his size, her hips rocking against his, desperate for more. He was all-consuming, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss, his lips hungry and demanding. Her senses were on overload, her mind spinning, her body trembling as he took her, his hips driving into hers.

Fenrir's rhythm was relentless, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him, his cock plunging into her again and again. She could feel the waves of pleasure building, her body tensing as she raced towards another climax.

With a strangled cry, she surrendered, her body shuddering as she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her, waves of pleasure rippling through her. Fenrir was relentless, his movements feral and animalistic, driving her higher and higher until she was lost, her mind and body consumed by the pleasure.

As Hermione lay there, panting and spent, Fenrir's lips curled into a wolfish grin, his eyes flashing with a dark, primal hunger. He was a predator, a beast, and she was his prey, the object of his lust and conquest.

He growled, his voice low and husky. "We're not yet done, Princess. We'll have the family I just mentioned to you a few minutes ago."

As his pace quickened, his hips slamming into hers, Hermione could feel the tension building, her body coiling tight as she raced towards another climax. She was spiraling out of control, her mind and body surrendering to the pleasure, lost in a sea of desire and ecstasy.

"Breed me, Fenrir," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless plea. "Breed me and claim me as yours."

With a low, feral growl, Fenrir obeyed, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him as he drove into her. Hermione cried out, her body quaking as the waves of pleasure crashed over her, her third orgasm tearing through her, her muscles contracting around his cock.

She could feel him pulsing inside her, his hips jerking as he emptied himself, his seed filling her, flooding her womb. It was all she could do to hold on, her body trembling as she surrendered to the pleasure, her mind and body consumed by the blissful release.

Fenrir's lips captured hers in a searing kiss, his eyes blazing with a fiery passion as he held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She was his, his mate, his partner.

"I own you," he growled, his voice low and possessive. 

And as she lay there, spent and sated, his words echoed in her ears, sending a thrill of forbidden pleasure coursing through her veins. There was something dangerously alluring about being claimed by a beast, marked by his lust and passion. As the sun sets over the horizon and nighttime takes over the skies, Fenrir's seed fills Hermione's womb; she knows that soon her body will swell with the new life inside her, her belly round and ripe.