Hermione heard Daphne ask "Who are you supposed to be?"rudely. Hoping to quell the embarrassing moment, Hermione quickly donned her robes, covering her naked body. The brunette rushed to the door and apologized; "Pardon my friend, she's a foreigner."
"Isn't that the way Muggles greet people?" asked Daphne in a whisper, ignorant of Muggle behavior.
"No," Hermione replied to Daphne. Then, indicating Daphne with a tilt of her head, said to the young woman outside the door; "She's German and you know how they are. Can I help you?"
"Yeah, you can get the hell outta my way," she said with a heavy American accent.
"Wonderful; a Yank," muttered Daphne scathingly. "They're worse than the Germans."
"Excuse me?" the brunette asked, offended by the young woman's words and tone. Even if Daphne's greeting had angered the girl, there was no call for her to be rude to Hermione.
"Let me say it slower this time: Get — the — hell — outta — my — way!"
"I never—"
"Harry! Are you in there?" the girl shouted over Hermione's shoulder.
"Wait, you know Harry?" asked Hermione.
The girl pointed to her familiar green eyes and harshly uttered; "Duh!"
"What's going on?" Harry appeared in the foyer, shirtless and zipping up his trousers.
"Oh, thank goodness you're alright," the mystery girl exclaimed, pushing herself past Daphne and Hermione. Throwing her arms around Harry's bare, muscular shoulders, she said, "I heard so many strange sounds from in here the past few days. I was worried about you."
Returning the hug (which he did to coyly place his hand on the girl's jean encased bottom), Harry mouthed the words "I was thinking I needed a bit of chocolate" to Hermione while appraising the girl's dark skin.
Hermione grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her away from the half naked wizard. "Just who are you, and how do you know Harry?"
The girl pulled free and returned to hugging Harry. Smiling at Hermione over her shoulder, the girl introduced herself. "I am Charlus Symoné Mary-Sue Rose Katie Raven Potter-Black."
"What? Potter?" both versions of Hermione and Luna asked in unison.
Daphne asked, "Isn't Charlus a masculine name?"
To which Tracey replied, "Well, it's like Blaise: it can be used both ways."
Daphne looked at her housemate and said in no uncertain terms, "No it can't. That's like saying William is a girl's name."
"Yes Potter, I'm the Twin Who Lived!" announced Charlus proudly over Daphne and Tracey's debate. With one arm still draped over Harry's shoulders, the girl named Charlus turned and smiled smugly at the other girls as if daring them to contradict her.
While Harry's harem witches were floored by this revelation the wizard himself couldn't care less. He was busy eyeing the two delectable mounds under Charlus' pullover. The three letters, "MCR" printed on the rock concert pullover accentuated her shapely breasts.
"Twin?" asked Hermione incredulously.
"Yes, the fact that Harry had a twin sister was a closely guarded secret that only Mom, Dad, and Sirius knew," began Charlus. "Even back then, Sirius and our parents were cautious of Dumbledore and his manipulations. When Hagrid left to deliver Harry to the Dursleys', Sirius searched the rubble further and found me. He sent me to live with his distant cousins in the States before he hunted down Wormtail.
"I graduated from the Salem Academy two years early – tops in all classes mind you. My Defense teacher also told me I'm the best duelist he's ever seen and I've got the awards to prove it. I bested my Potion Master in numerous incredibly difficult potions. I've out transfigured my Transfiguration teacher in several competitions. And don't get me started on my Charms work; my instructor gushed over my prowess so much that she offered me to teach the class in her place.
"I can also sing like nobody's business. I play guitar, piano, and the harp so well that I've been approached by no less than three major record labels begging me to sign with them. But I'll only do it if Gerard Way – who's simply the best damned singer alive (1) – does a duet with me. And I've won the Quadpot Bowl four years running.
"I'm here to save my twin from the horrible conditions he's been force to live in since we were separated. And to help him fight Voldemort," concluded Charlus.
Daphne made a loud squeaking sound and flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. Harry's eyes temporarily left Charlus' top and he quickly examined the fearful expression on Daphne's face as if he was formulating a plan.
Noticing Daphne's fearful reaction, Charlus added; "Saying 'Voldemort' in the States is a no-no as well. Everyone is terrified of his name back home. I'm the only one I know who doesn't fear that fiend's name. See; Voldemort!"
Again, Daphne made a fearful squeaking sound. Then, Harry smiled as if confident in his new plan. His gaze returned to Charlus' breasts.
"You can't be Harry's twin!" Hermione returned to the previous topic.
"Why; because no one else knew about me?" returned Charlus. "I told you only Sirius knew."
"No, that's not the reason – even though such a scenario is too farfetched to believe – the main reason why you cannot be Harry's twin is because you're black!"
"So? Love doesn't see color," Charlus said, as if it clearly explained the situation.
"Seeing that she and Harry have Lily's eyes, perhaps James Potter wasn't her father?" offered Luna. "Maybe her father was a black man."
"No, my Dad was James Potter," Charlus said, "same as my twin brother here."
"Then why are you a different ethnicity?" demanded Hermione.
"Fine, I'll explain," Charlus huffed. "Before he sent me to his distant cousins, Sirius performed a Family bonding Ritual, thereby making me a…" She paused for dramatic effect, "…Black."
"That makes perfect sense," Hermione Jean said in understanding.
"No, no it doesn't," Hermione barked. Her face burned. "A Family Bonding Ritual does not change one's ethnicity!"
"Here, let me perform a Family Tree Charm on her," Tracey said. "It's a pure-blood charm that will show a person's father and mother's name as well as any siblings. The names end up listing in lights over the subject's head."
"That's convenient," commented Harry, who was still eyeing Charlus' breasts much like a wolf eyes a young, tender rabbit.
Tracey waved her wand and the names "James Tiberius Potter," "Lily Rose Potter (nee Evans)," "Sirius Orion Black (adoptive father)" and "Harry James Potter (twin brother)" appeared in glowing letters over the black girl's head.
"But that doesn't explain how someone with two white parents can have a black child!" exclaimed Hermione in frustration.
Hermione Jean offered another lame explanation. "Well sometimes two parents with black hair can have a child with red hair."
"No they can't!" snapped Hermione.
"Regardless of how or why Charlus is black, I've got chocolate in my harem now," Harry said brushing Hermione's concerns aside. "So I'm a happy wizard."
"You've got 'what' in your 'what' now?" asked Charlus, stepping away from Harry.
"Harry, you can't," Hermione said. "Even though I can't explain it, she's your twin sister! She cannot join your harem."
"Did she just say 'harem'?" asked Charlus, still stunned by the topic.
Ignoring Charlus, Harry said smugly to Hermione; "No, she isn't; she's my counterpart's twin sister. I have no siblings."
A tiny whisper wafted through the room like a light summer breeze. "mum says that if the boy doesn't cum in the girl's cunny, then it really doesn't count as incest."
All eyes (save for Tracey who could still not hear or see mousey-Ginny for some inconceivable reason) turned to the overly shy red-head, hiding behind the couch.
"Wow, that's just downright disturbing," commented Luna.
"What's disturbing?" asked Tracey.
"What mousey-Ginny just said."
"Who's mousey-Ginny?" Tracey looked around vainly.
"Never mind that, let's indoctrinate Charlus here," Harry said.
"Wait now, hold on," the black girl said, taking a step away. "I don't know what you mean by 'counterpart's twin' but it's a moot point, brother. I don't date white boys."
"Wait, you just said 'love doesn't see color'," countered Hermione hotly.
"Yeah, but love does see size," Charlus said with a lopsided smile that was surprisingly similar to Harry's.
Hermione's mouth hung open in shock while Harry simply crossed his arms over his chest, smiling as if he knew what was about to happen.
Recovering from her shock, Hermione said; "I'll show you size, bitch!" and shoved her hand into Harry's pants. Harry, unfazed by Hermione's hand fishing around in his trousers, continued to smile. After seizing the meaty prize, Hermione pulled out his manhood. And pulled some more. Once the crown was freed from its denim confines, Hermione let it flop down where it made a dull thudding sound against his trousers.
"Oh Em Gee!" exclaimed Charlus, staring with wide eyes at her brother's duplicate's organ. "That's one huge cock."
Taking pride in Harry's manhood, Hermione boasted, "Yes, it is an impressive… Wait, did you just say Oh Em Gee?"
Charlus nodded her head and licked her lips.
"What the hell does Oh Em Gee mean?" the brunette asked.
"I suppose it could be short for 'Oh my God'," speculated Luna.
At this point, Charlus was absentmindedly unfastening her jeans. Harry's organ was growing hard in anticipation.
"Whatever," Hermione huffed. She said to Harry; "Just remember what mousey-Ginny said and don't cum in her. Sister of your double or not, it's still pseudo-incest. If you want retarded, inbred babies, you could get a jump start by knocking up Ginny-Pig."
As Charlus lifted her pullover over her head revealing a taught belly and a pink cotton bra, she said throatily; "I don't care about incest right now. All that matters is that I want you to use your beef stick to whack open my labia piñata." The black girl tossed her shirt to the side and unclasped her bra, freeing her large, soft breasts. "I can tell you, candy won't come out, but it'll be just as sweet."
Over the next half hour, Charlus screamed out "OH EM GEE! I'M CUMMING!" every thirty-four seconds like clockwork. Of course each and every time the black witch exclaimed this, Hermione would shout; "'OH—MY—GOD'! It's 'Oh-my-God'! I cannot comprehend why you REFUSE TO say 'Oh-my-God' PROPERLY! THE PHRASE IS only three syllables long. See; 'OH—MY—GOD'! Just three simple, short syllables! It's no more difficult or easier than saying 'OH EM GEE' so why try and shorten it, you twat! EvEN IF YOU SPELT IT OUT, 'OH MY GOD' IS ONLY FOUR LETTERS LONGER THAN 'OMG'! OH MY GOD; IT'S RIDICULOUS!"
Seeing that it took Hermione twenty-eight to thirty seconds to shout out this rant meant that Charlus would repeat her cry of "OH EM GEE! I'M CUMMING!" in four to six seconds which led to Hermione repeating her tirade. By the time the half hour was up, both witches had screamed themselves horse – albeit for different reasons.
After a series of grunts, Harry stated; "Whoops, I came in her cunny. I guess that makes it pseudo-incest." It was painfully clear by the tone of his voice and the manner in which he spoke that such an action did not concern the wizard, neither was it accidental. He pulled out of Charlus, lowered her to the floor and stepped over her prone body. "I'm off to have a shower."
Rubbing her throat, Hermione's voice creaked and cracked as she complained; "I think I screamed myself raw."
"I think I just had an aneurism," croaked Charlus as she lay limp and limbless on the floor. "I can't feel a thing besides my throbbing pussy."
"No, that's just the aftereffect of Harry's wondrous willy and having fifty-two point nine-four orgasms," informed Luna. She added proudly; "I kept count."
The wizard grabbed both Hermione Jean and Tracey, dragging them with him toward the stairs. "You two are lucky; you get to lather me down." As he marched up the stairs, Harry pointed to Luna and Hermione and ordered "You continue to initiate the new harem girl."
Luna giggled and clapped her hands excitedly. She trotted over to the still limp Charlus and rolled the girl onto her back. Continuing to giggle as if she was opening a present on Christmas morning, Luna spread Charlus' legs open, showing the black witch's cum soaked sex to Hermione. Smiling, Luna said to the brunette; "I think I have just the thing to help ease your sore throat, Hermione."
Licking her lips, Hermione made her way to the salty and tasty ointment oozing from Charlus' womanhood. A few moments' later, Charlus cried out passionately over Hermione's eager slurping; "OH EM GEE! I'M CUMMING!"
"That's fifty-three!" cheered Luna.
"Minister! Minister, I have wonderful news!" Auror Clancy burst into Percy's office.
"What is it?" Percy asked looking up from some mundane paperwork he was reviewing.
"Sir, following your orders, we've apprehended twenty-four Wizengamot members baring the Dark Mark!" he said excitedly.
"That is wonderful news," chirped Mandy, standing at her lover's side.
"That's not all, sir! A number of the prisoners are talking! They're hemorrhaging information about You Know Who and his other followers!" the Auror said breathlessly. "So far, we've arrested fourteen other Death Eaters from various Ministry departments and ten more among the Aurors! We've rooted out all of You Know Who's minions in the Ministry in just one day!"
"Oh wow!" Mandy breathed.
"Also, at least twenty Death Eaters have stated that Severus Snape is in league with You Know Who," added Clancy.
"Hmm, I know he was reported to have been a double agent during the first war," Percy said rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should bring him in for questioning just to be sure whose side he's on."
"Yes sir!"
"This is splendid news. We've dealt Voldemort a massive blow today!" Percy said with well-earned pride. "Auror Clancy, do me a favor and contact the Head of the Press Department. I think we should have a news conference right away so we can share this wonderful news with the good people of Britain."
"Of course, Minister!" Clancy said and rushed out of the office.
Brimming with pride, Percy let himself smile. Thanks to his simple yet effective plan, he'd taken dozens of Death Eaters out of the Ministry. Voldemort's influence in the government had been completely removed.
Mandy was proud of Percy as well. She showed this pride by kneeling between his legs and unzipping his trousers.
Leaning back in his chair, Percy said over Mandy's slurping; "It's good to be me."
Staggering, Dumbledore stumbled into the Greenhouse. "Pamona, I need you," he whimpered pathetically.
"Merlin, Albus, what's wrong?" the morbidly-Rubenesque witch asked.
Temporarily robbed of his ability to speak by the agony he was suffering, Dumbledore lifted the front of his robes with trembling hands.
"Oh dear," Pamona muttered. Her lover's organ was engorged so much that it was nearly fifty percent larger than normal. The extra blood pulsing through his rod had turned it a bright, angry purple. Due to the excessive amounts of semen being produced by the poison, the elderly wizard's testicles had also grown overly large. So much so that his scrotum was now smooth and wrinkle free.
"We'll skip foreplay," the witch said, disrobing as quickly as she could.
As Pamoan lay on her back and spread her legs, Dumbledore shook like a leaf in a storm. His heart pounded so hard and so fast that he could feel his pulse rush through every vein in his body. His manhood visibly throbbed and bobbed with each heartbeat.
He looked at Pamona's beautiful sex framed by her glorious folds of flesh from her thighs and belly. Soon, he'd get relief. Flopping down on his lover, the old man positioned himself to enter her holiest of holies.
However, Harry's poison was far more nefarious and cruel than Dumbledore could ever imagine. The moment his assaulted crown touched her wet petals, Dumbledore's organ deflated – much like a popped balloon.
"No, no, no," the elderly wizard whimpered as the pain in his genitals continued to grow.
"What's the matter?" Pamona asked.
More pain rocked through Dumbledore as his limp organ jumped as too much blood rushed into it; causing it to grow and stretch in an instant.
"This isn't good," Sprout said as she rolled off the table. She knelt before her lover, took his overly swollen manhood in her hand and licked the crown. It was her intention to give Dumbledore release through her superior (although not as superior as Hermione or her duplicate) skills in oral sex (apparently, rock stars may be right about big girls). However, the instant her tongue touched his hypersensitive skin, his organ went limp once again.
"Oh, dear," Pamona said while Dumbledore groan miserably.
The skin on the elderly wizard's scrotum began to stretch beyond its capacity; turning the skin bright red and purple stretch marks appeared.
Frantically, Sprout began to pump her hand up and down her lover's shaft. Normally, she would've used her spit to lubricate her hand, but it was clear that her various liquids, both from her womanhood and mouth, robbed him of his erection for some reason.
Dumbledore bit his lip. Pamona's motions were rubbing his delicate skin raw, but it was a pain he'd have to endure in order to get the release his body so desperately needed.
A bit of pre-cum dribbled out of his urethra and, much like the other liquids, the presence of his own fluid touching his skin caused Dumbledore's erection to vanish in the blink of an eye. Dumbledore crumpled to the floor in agony as his testicle continued to produce even more semen.
"Wait here, daddy," Pamona said worriedly as she rushed off to the greenhouse's storage cupboard. After a few moments of rummaging, Pamona returned to Dumbledore's side with a long, thin rubber tube. "I have this to drain the snuglegrump plant of its pus and I'm hoping I can do the same with you. This will hurt, Albus. I'm so sorry."
As gently as she could, Sprout held the elderly wizard's organ and pushed the tube into his urethra. Dumbledore howled. She pushed until the tube was a good two inches in his shaft. Once the tube was firmly in place, Sprout began to pump his member once again. A few seconds later, release finally came to Dumbledore. With another howl, he came. And he came like a fire hose. The tube whipped this way and that wildly as a gallon of ejaculate flowed rapidly from his loins. The discharge sprayed Sprout, Dumbledore and every plant around them. The wizards engorged testicles slowly deflated as his semen continued to rocket out of the tube.
A shuttering breath escaped Dumbledore's lips. "Thank you, my dear," he said, trying to catch his breath. "That seems to have done the trick."
"What happened, Albus?" she asked, wiping a large amount of cum off of her face.
"I was poisoned." So weakened from his ordeal, Dumbledore could not even lift his arm from his side.
"Poisoned? By who?"
"That's not important," he said, not really wishing to explain how a Harry from an evil alternate universe came to this universe and was causing untold havoc. "I need you to fetch Severus—Oh no!"
The old wizard cried pathetically for his organ grew agonizingly hard once again. His testicles ballooned up to their previous overly engorged sized. His body screamed in pain and demanded release.
Pamona waved her wand about, conjuring a padded ring around her lover's shaft. She tapped her wand to this ring and it began to move up and down Dumbledore's penis, rubbing him harshly.
"I'm sorry it's so uncomfortable, daddy," she said sadly. "But this should get you off while I find Professor Snape."
Suffering through such agony, all Dumbledore could do was nod his head. With that, Sprout donned her robes and rushed out of the greenhouse.
The searing pain woke Ron. He looked down to see Carnation lodging two more wands into his battered urethra. Blinking, Ron looked around the attic and saw his brother's Fred and George "entertaining" the other three ghastly witches. Fred was being urinated on while George's head was presently being swallowed up by Millicent's cavernous cunt. Both of the twins had deep, bright red rope burns on their necks and were, mercifully, unconscious.
As he watched his brother's suffer the same tortures he had lived through, something snapped in the young wizard's mind. For the first time in days, Ron stood erect. His chest puffed up and held his head in a regal manner. Placing his fists on his hips, he looked about the room once more. Instead of seeing the dusty old attic occupied by four hideous witches, one slumbering ghoul, and two unconscious twins, Ron saw a grand throne room, four gorgeous witches, one muscle bound guard, and two jesters. He smiled; it was good to be Ron the Magnificent (2).
"Wha' are you doin' up?" Carnation asked thickly. "Yer supposed ta' just writhe around and whimper like you always do, gigner."
"Hello, my lovely," Ron said, smiling down at the pretty thing kneeling before him. He gestured to his massive, erect organ and asked; "Does Ron the Magnificent's towering manhood frighten you, child?"
Carnation squinted her eyes and said; "What towerin' manhood? All's I see's is yer tiny pecker wit' four wands juttin' ou' of it."
"Don't worry, pet, Ron the Magnificent will be gentle as the breeze," he said smiling. "Just lay back and I'll take care of everything."
"You've got ta' do wha' he says, Carnation," Bergamot told her sister. "Minister Parkinson said we're in 'is 'arem and we had ta' do wha' he says."
"Yeah, just lay back an' take it," offered Marigold. "Knowin' 'im, 'e'll be done ina jiffy."
"All right then." Carnation rolled on her back, her rolls of flesh acting as a natural pillow. Ron fell forward, shoving the wands into her womanhood.
"How does it feel?" asked Violet.
"The wands kinda' tickle," she replied as Ron pumped frantically like a rabbit on speed. "Other than tha', I don' feel a thing."
But in Ron's shattered, deluded mind, the beautiful nubile young thing he was plowing was screaming; "YES! YES! YES! MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, RON THE MAGNIFICENT! MAKE ME CUM AGAIN!"
"Oi, wha' are ya' doing?" Carnation asked as Ron fell asleep on top of her.
"I think he's asleep," Millicent speculated.
"I told ya 'e'd be don right quick," said Marigold.
"What should I do wit' 'im now?" asked Carnation.
"I suppose you can take a shite on 'im," offered one of her sisters.
"That does sound like fun."
His home had been forcibly taken from him and turned into a zoo. Judging from the loud animal noises emanating from the parlor and master bathroom, Vernon's beautifully normal house was now inhabited by uncivilized beasts. There were hoots, hollers, wailing, shouting, and cries reverberating through his house right at that moment. His thug of a nephew and his harlots were fornicating at all hours of the day and night. It was Vernon's opinion that civilized people only engaged in special relations two to three times a week (four if they were lucky enough to get a prescription for that little blue pill). But his freak nephew and those sluts were fornicating like a pack of animals.
As he had done many times in the past few days, Vernon fumed. Ever since his brute of a nephew returned, he and his lovely family had been bound and locked in the smallest bedroom. Once every twelve hours or so, one of the freak sluts would saunter in (sometimes naked as the day they were hatched or however those freaks come into this world – Vernon had to admit he rather liked it when their showed up this way: freaks or not, everyone likes to look at bare bottoms and boobs, and Dear God did that brunette's boobs make him happy to be breathing), remove his, Petunia, and Dudley's gags and force feed them. But, added to the crimes the Durselys suffered, the sluts would never feed Vernon and his family the proper amount of food. Vernon and Dudley were literally wasting away. They had each lost nearly five pounds!
While Vernon futilely fumed, Petunia discreetly moved her bound hands to her honey-pot. She couldn't help but imagine what her freakish nephew and that glorious hunk of man-meat were doing to those sluts. Their cries of passion wove a tale of dripping sexes, clenching muscles, and earth-shattering orgasms. Fingering away, Petunia entertained her incestuous thoughts. In no time at all, her box flowed. It took all of her will not to call out the freak's name through her gag and remain silent so Vernon and her sweet Dudders would not realize what she was doing.
Like his mother, Dudley had to take care of his needs. He imagined being sandwiched between that pretty red-head with a flat chest and big bottom and his freak cousin. Rubbing himself through his pajama bottoms and thinking of the red-head's womanhood wrapped around his sex while his freak cousin's epic twanger plowed into him, Dudley bit down on his gag to stifle his moans even more. It only took a few scant seconds for the rotund boy to launch a massive load down his leg.
'Christ!' thought Vernon bitterly, not realizing what his wife and son were doing behind his back. 'I can smell their foul deeds in here!'
The shouts and cries of ecstasy coming from the master bath's shower reverberated through the house. Even after Charlus, Luna, Hermione and Daphne (who had joined in after Charlus had an even sixty orgasms) had brought each other to the heights of pleasure time and time again, Harry was still shagging the hell out of Hermione Jean and Tracey.
"Damn, he's virile," Daphne said in awe as her fellow Slytherin cried out "I'M CUMMING AGAIN!" from upstairs.
While Hermione Jean shouted "SO AM I! I'M CUMMING, TOO!"Luna commented; "He's more virile than a Narrow Eared Whoomp Karthauser."
A shiver passed through Hermione over the thought of Harry and his prowess, causing her large breasts to jiggle. "He is nothing short of a Sex God."
"I'm glad I joined his harem," Charlus added. "Twin brother or not; the man knows how to fuck. And his dick… Sweet Morgana! Bigdoesn't cover it. I have to find new descriptors to give his cock justice."
"It deserves a title," stated Daphne. "Something fitting of its size and prowess."
"How about 'the Albino Python?" offered Hermione.
"'The Orgasm Giver'," added Luna.
"I know, 'the Devine Rod'," suggested Charlus.
After the four witches giggled for a bit, Daphne lifted her head from the floor. "Wait a tick; I haven't seen Pansy in a while."
"So what?" asked Charlus, not knowing nor caring to whom Daphne was referring.
"She has a habit of trying to escape," replied Luna.
"She wants to escape?" the black witch asked disbelievingly. As if by coincidence, both Hermione Jean and Tracey cried out in passion. Charlus pointed to the ceiling and the threesome somewhere beyond, adding; "Who the hell would want to leave that? If she left, she wouldn't get fucked by the living Sex God!"
"You see, the stupid bint thinks that if she turns Harry over to Voldemort, the so-called Dark Lord would reward her service by giving Harry to her as a personal sex toy," explained Hermione.
"That's crazy on so many levels," chuckled Charlus. "First; Voldemort would kill Harry if given the chance, not give him away to be a slave. Second; there is no way on earth one witch could hope to satisfy Harry. She'd die of dehydration in a day or two. He needs a harem or he'd end up killing them."
"Let's go find her," Hermione said, gingerly getting up from the floor. Groaning in delightful soreness, the other three witches stood as well.
"Thanks to the charm Harry put on her, Pansy can't leave the house without my permission. So finding her shouldn't be difficult," Hermione said as she led her fellow harem witches to the kitchen.
There they found the now-bald witch trying to attach a post to Hedwig's leg. The snowy owl would have none of it. Hedwig flew around the kitchen, just out of Pansy's reach.
"What are you doing?" demanded Hermione.
"Oh, bollocks," whispered Pansy, knowing she was in for it.
"Give me the note," Hermione said, holding out her hand. The shorn witch hesitated. Hermione warned; "If you don't give me that parchment this instant, I'll shove my whole foot in your cunt."
Charlus giggled, clearly thinking that Hermione was either jesting or, at best, exaggerating. Luna tapped the new harem witch on the shoulder and whispered; "Oh, she means it. I've see her double fist someone."
Looking between Hermione's foot and Pansy's groin and imagining the two joining in some horrific union, Charlus said; "I'd give her the letter if I were you."
With a shaking hand, Pansy placed the post in Hermione's open palm. The brunette unfolded the parchment and read aloud; "Dear Dark Lord; Potter's at number four Privit Drive Little Whining, Surry. Your faithful servant, Pansy Parkinson."
Pansy shrunk into the corner as Hermione stared daggers at her.
"What should I do with you, huh? How can I get you to stop trying to turn Harry over to Voldemort? Do I have to punish you to make you see the error of your ways?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "Maybe a foot in the cunt is too good for you! Maybe I should let the girls here," she said, gesturing to the witches behind her, "take turns shoving Merlin knows what in every orifice God drilled into your frame. I think we should start with that frying pan over there."
Just before Hermione set off to retrieve said frying pan, Charlus stopped her. "Hold on a sec," she said. "Do you have some polyjuice?"
"Actually, I do. We lifted it when we raided Snape's laboratory."
"C'mere," Charlus said to Hermione, Luna, and Daphne. As the four huddled up, Charlus explained her plan. "We use the polyjuice with some of Harry's hair. Then all of us – including the two getting railed upstairs as we speak – will take a dosage and turn into Harry. And then we'll gang-bang the bald slut!"
"That sounds like a truly novel idea – I for one would love to know how it feels to shag with Harry's meat instead of being shagged by it. But how will that help deter Pansy?" asked Luna.
Hermione smiled, picking up on Charlus' plan. "Because, once Pansy gets shagged repeatedly by six versions of Harry's organ, she'll be turned into a drooling, mindless cock slave!"
"Any and all thoughts besides Harry's prick will be forced out of her mind," Charlus added. "She'll forget her own name much less Voldemort's."
"I dunno," Daphne said. "I don't see Pansy offering herself to six Harrys."
"Oh please, the sight of half a dozen versions of the greatest manhood ever to grace this world would turn even the most frigid witch into a slut," stated Hermione.
"Yeah, she is a bit of a cock whore already… but…" Daphne said hesitantly.
"And we can brew a mild arousal potion," offered Hermione. "It'll give Pansy's libido an extra nudge."
Daphne hesitated still.
Luna placed her hand on Daphne's shoulder. "Imagine it, Daphne, you'll get to know what it's like for Harry when he shags. You'll feel your blood flow into your polyjuiced member, know what it's like to have a young witch wrapped around your sensitive love rod. You'll feel your cum launch forth from your polyjuiced testicles and rocket up your shaft—"
"All right, I'm in!" Daphne blurted out while blushing brightly. Luna's descriptive explanation was enough to push Daphne over the proverbial edge.
The four witches cackled over the mad, ingenious plan.
"What are you lot up to?" asked Harry, suddenly appearing behind them.
"Oh, nothing," Hermione said. She asked; "Can we have some of your hair?"
"What for?" he asked.
"Oh, we want to teach Pansy a lesson."
He cocked an eyebrow at his witches, internally weighing his options. After a moment, he reached up to his head and grabbed a fistful of hair. Tugging his hand away from his scalp, Harry pulled a dozen black strands off of his head. He held his hand toward Hermione who eagerly picked each hair and placed them carefully in her free hand.
"Okay then, you enjoy yourselves," Harry said, pulling on his robes.
"Where're you off to?" asked Luna.
"Oh, what Charlus said about other countries fearing Voldemort's name got me thinking," he replied. "I've got some research to do. Don't wait up."
Without another word, Harry apparated away, silently.
Looking at the hairs collected in her palm as if they were spun gold, Hermione said to Luna; "Start brewing the arousal potion while Charlus and I get the polyjuice ready. Daphne, you go get Hermione Jean and Tracey ready."
Hissing through his clenched teeth, Draco launched another load of man-juice on Lady Voldemort's bare breasts. The Dark Lady shivered in ecstasy as the warm fluid splashed on her skin.
Panting, Draco lowered himself onto the bed. As she rubbed and smeared the mess over her hard, pink nipples, Lady Voldemort purred; "You should prepare yourself, Draco."
"Prepare myself for what, milady?"
"I'm off to kill Potter. And once I return, I'll celebrate my victory by having you shoot a big, juicy load all over my face."
"Merlin, you really do like sperm-play!"
"More than you can imagine," she returned and flopped back on the bed. Arching her back, she explained; "To have a young man – such as yourself – blow their load on me sends me to the heights of rapture. If I believed in reincarnation, I would swear that I was a Japanese porn star in a previous life."
Seeing the beautiful witch slither on the bed like some exotic snake Draco had the urge to satisfy her over and over again. But even his teenage virility had its limits. If it were not for this biologic setback, Draco would be wanking himself on her face right at that moment.
Then it came to him. Draco recalled an old potion used by pure-bloods to ensure conception. The potion would increase the wizard's semen production tenfold in hopes of flooding the witch's womb with their reproductive seed. The reasoning behind this was simple; the more semen, the more likely one of the swimmers would find its target and conception would occur.
With this potion, Draco was sure to blast his lover. If he was correct, he'd drench the lovely Dark Lady with his hot spunk.
Lady Voldemort slithered off the bed and began to dress. "Remember Draco, I want you ready for me when I return."
"Don't worry, milady, I'll be more than ready."
Meanwhile, back in the Burrow's kitchen, the passionate new lovers Molly and Dolores discovered a wonderful toy. Something called a "double-headed strap-on."
This author considered describing the activities and joy the two felt over this toy. But the plentiful amounts of death threats he would surely receive dissuaded him.
Snape walked down the darkened corridor to his laboratory in the dungeon of Hogwarts.
"Excuse me, Professor Snape?" a voice called out from further down the hallway.
"Yes, what is it?" the greasy wizard asked impatiently as the unknown wizard jogged up to Snape's side.
"My name's Clancy, I'm an Auror."
"Your parent's must be proud," Snape said snidely as he continued to walk to his lab.
"Sir, I'm here under the Minister for Magic's direct order."
"How that imbecile Weasley got the highest position in the country I'll never know." Snape waved his wand at the door, canceling out the locking charm.
Clancy huffed at Snape's indignation. In the Auror's opinion, Minister Weasley was shaping up to be one of the best leaders in history. "I'm to take you in for questioning."
Snape looked down his hooked nose at the Auror. "Whatever for?"
"Just come with me, sir," Clancy said, barely hiding his contempt for the Death Eater.
"Fine, just let me check on some potions I'm brewing."
"Make it quick."
Snape placed his hand on the knob and twisted it to open the door. That's when Harry's trap sprung. An invisible, magical blade fell from the top of the doorframe, acting like a guillotine, slicing Snape's hand off.
The potions master screamed in agony. He held up the stump of what used to be his hand before his wide, terror filled eyes. Blood shot from the wound like a geyser. Black smoke rose from the injury, indicating that the hand was cut with a form of black magic. No amount of healing magic could reattach the limb.
Clancy whipped out his wand. He needed Snape to answer a few questions about his allegiance and he couldn't do that if the suspect died from blood loss. Waving his wand around the injured limb, Clancy cast a Tourniquet Charm to stop the bleeding.
The Auror took hold of Snape around his shoulder and activated his Emergency Portkey which took him and Snape directly to St. Mungo's in the blink of an eye.
Sprout rushed up to the potions lab to find the door ajar and a great amount of blood on the floor.
"What in Heaven's Name happened here?" she wondered aloud. Then she saw it; the disembodied hand lying just in the doorway.
"Oh dear!" she muttered.
The sight of the blood and the severed hand added to the trauma of her poisoned lover was all too much for the plump witch. With a groan, Sprout fainted.
The six harem witches gathered around the vat of polyjuice in the parlor of the Dursley home.
"Luna, is the arousal potion ready?" asked Hermione.
The blonde responded by holding up a vial filled with a bright, pink liquid. "I know I shouldn't care, but where's Ginny-Pig?" the blonde Ravenclaw asked.
"Oh, just obeying my standing orders never to look upon Harry's naked form," replied Hermione. "She took it upon herself to hide in the cupboard under the stairs as to not see us polyjuiced as Harry. Yes, technically if she saw us she wouldn't be looking upon Harry, but its close enough. Of course I did drop the subtle hint that if she peeked at any of us during our little polyjuice adventure I'd be very disappointed in her. Then I mentioned something about gouging her eyes out with a garden trowel."
Charlus whispered in Daphne's ear; "Remind me never to piss Hermione off."
"Needless to say when I dropped that hint Ginny-Pig flopped to the floor and came like an out of control freight train on icy tracks," Hermione explained further. "But that's neither here nor there."
Hermione waved her wand and conjured up six mugs next to the vat. Grabbing a ladle she took from the kitchen, Hermione measured out six equal dosages into the mugs. With a care and ease born from five years of potions lessons, Hermione place a single black hair into each of the mugs. The potion turned a bright, emerald green that matched Harry's eyes. Finally, Hermione passed the mugs out, one to each of her harem mates.
"This is going to be so exciting!" cheered Luna.
"Drink up everybody." Hermione said with a thrilled giggle.
The six drank the potion.
"This feels so weird!" said Daphne as her skin began to ungulate and her limbs stretched.
"Something's wrong!" exclaimed Tracey a moment later. "I can't see! Everything's gone blurry!"
"Don't worry; the polyjuice is changing your eyes to match Harry's. That means we're getting his lousy vision," explained Hermione.
"Here, I'll conjure up some spectacles for us," offered Luna.
Once everyone donned their glasses, they looked at one another. There, where six naked witches had been, now stood six naked Harrys.
"Oh Em Gee, I can feel them! I can feel my cock and balls!" one Harry said. "Merlin they're heavy."
"Charlus, for the love of all that's holy don't say 'Oh Em Gee'anymore!" a second (clearly Hermione) scolded.
"It is rather bizarre to hear Harry's voice say 'Oh Em Gee'," agreed a third Harry.
"LOOK! LOOK!" a fourth exclaimed, pointing to his groin. "I'm getting hard!"
"So am I!"
"Me too!"
"It makes sense that we'd get aroused so easily," Hermione said as her polyjuiced organ began to rise as well. "It looks like we gained Harry's virility along with his lousy eyesight."
"I think I'm getting dizzy."
"Of course you are; it takes a lot of blood to fill this beef stick up!"
As the six witches who shared Harry's body laughed over this joke, the front door erupted in a shower of splinters. A tall, deathly pale woman without a nose rushed through the ruined doorway brandishing a knife.
"Harry Potter! It's time to face your DOOM!" the witch hollered. She was about to let out a bloodcurdling battle cry when her red eyes fell on the six identical erections. The mesmerized Lady Voldemort muttered; "Those are some massive willies."
"She looks like Voldemort," one Harry said.
"It must be one of his duplicates from an alternate universe," theorized another.
Lady Voldemort continued to stare longingly at the six organs. The fact that there were six Harry Potters when there should only be one never occurred to the evil witch. The only thing that mattered was the half dozen summer sausages pointing up at the ceiling. She hungrily eyed their testicles and the wondrous spunk held within them. Judging by their size and apparent weight, she assumed their loads would be large to say the least. Lost in the moment, Lady Voldemort imagined kneeling on the floor while the six Harrys circled her and shot their loads all over her face and torso. She was a dirty Dark Lady and she liked it that way.
"Quick, someone do something before she comes to her senses!" one Harry called out.
Luna was the first to react. She took the vial of arousal potion and flung the contents onto Lady Voldemort's face. Reactively, Lady Voldemort licked her potion covered lips, accidentally ingesting the arousal potion. It was just enough to nudge – as Hermione called it – her already heighten libido.
"Well," the Dark Lady said, letting the knife fall from her hand to the floor. "Your impending doom can wait for a bit I suppose."
Shrugging her shoulders, the evil witch let her robes slip from her body revealing her lush, naked form.
Six male organs jerked and bobbed in unison.
Meanwhile, in Diagon Alley, Remus Lupin was preaching the Word. He approached a young, clean-cut wizard and said; "Tell me brother, are you ready to receive the Word?"
"What are you selling?" the young wizard asked.
"Nothing besides eternal salvation and enlightenment, my friend." Remus clutched the book he had written to his chest like a mother holds her baby.
The young wizard scratched his head and said; "I'll probably regret this, but go ahead. I've got nothing better to do."
"You shan't be disappointed, friend. What's your name?"
"Ignatius."
"Ignatius, I'm Remus." The two shared a warm handshake. "I was visited by the Devine Mammary just the other night. She revealed Her Glorious Mound upon me and I was shown the Truth of Her Love. I suckled from Her Beautiful Teat of Knowledge and was bade to go forth and spread her word. I must spread the Word and Her Love to Her children. Will you help me in my Quest for the Devine Mammary, Brother Ignatius?"
"You're talking about tits, an't cha'?" asked Ignatius.
"Not just any breast, my brother, but the most Divine, Beautiful Mound anyone has ever seen! Her Teat can feed all of Her children and satiate us all and never droop or sag. Her Perkiness knows no woes caused by gravity. Despite giving birth and nourishment to all living things, no stretch marks have marred Her Milky White Goodness!"
Ignatius nodded his head in understanding; "Well, I've always been a tit worshiper so I would figure it'd be only right if I'd join a religion based on a tittie. Count me in!"
The first place Harry apparated to was Hogsemeade, the largest wizarding village in Britain. There he went up to random people and said "Voldemort." Just as he suspected, each and every person reacted in fear. Two people – one an elderly witch and the other a strapping young wizard – ran away from Harry screaming at the top of their lungs.
After creating a long distance Portkey, Harry traveled to Village Porc, France – Hogsmeade's sister village. There Harry repeated the process of walking up to random wizards and witches and saying the name "Voldemort." Just as had happened in Hogsmeade, the magical folk reacted in fear if not abject terror.
Harry traveled to Schweindorf, Gultstad, Miestasseitelis, Porcocitta, and dozens of other wizarding villages across the globe. He spent no more than five minutes at each location, walking up to witches and wizards from all walks of life and saying "Voldemort" to them. Every single person reacted in fear at the sound of the dreaded name. A number of them actually soiled themselves. One wizard even exclaimed "Ni!" while his partner cried out "Ekkie Ekkie Ekkie Ekkie Ptang !" in apparent physical pain when Harry had said the dreaded name in front of them.
Two and a half hours later, Harry Portkeyed to Diagon Alley and marched with a purpose into Flourish and Blots.
"Good day, young sir, how may I help you?" a doddering old clerk asked Harry.
Grinning at the old wizard, Harry raised his wand over his head and incanted "Accio books with the name Voldemort!"
The only thing that happened was the old man scampered away and dove behind the counter. No books soared off the shelves.
"Accio books with the name You Know Who!" incanted Harry.
A hundred books leapt off their shelves and flew to Harry, landing at his feet.
"Accio books with the name He Who Must Not Be Named!"
Another hundred or so books soar toward Harry.
Harry grinned, satisfied in his research. Not only were people terrified of a simple name, but they couldn't even bear to write it. A silly little superstition, clearly started by Voldemort himself, had gripped the entire world in fear. His grin grew wider. He could use this to his advantage.
Hermione and the other harem witches did deplorable things to Lady Voldemort that no one should do to another living being. Numerous taboos and social etiquettes were shattered over and over. Terrible atrocities were performed to Lady Voldemort's orifices in the name of blind lust.
The harem members had not gained Harry's technique via the polyjuice, they did however gain his virility. This gave them the ability to use Lady Voldemort no less than three times each. This left the Dark Witch in a particular state which could be described in three words: dripping, gaping, and aroused.
"More," moaned Lady Voldemort as great globs of ejaculate dripped from her face and body. "I need more! Give Mama more delicious, hot cum!"
"I'm trying!" a thrusting Daphne complained. "Your cunt is so loose now that I'm throwing my version of Harry's cock around in you and I'm hitting nothing!"
"Blame Hermione and Hermione Jean for that," Luna said from across the room where she was still trying to catch her breath. "If those two hadn't used her vagina at the same time then you wouldn't be in this predicament."
"Excuse me, but weren't you one of the three that teamed up on her arsehole simultaneously?" Hermione asked.
"What can I say; I'm an arse-girl." Luna's proud and satisfied grin stretched Harry's features just as she had stretched Lady Voldemort's anus along with Charlus and Daphne.
"Hey, I was only able to get my tip in so don't blame me," Charlus defended herself.
"Finally!" cheered Daphne having found an angle of thrust that gave her some contact. The polyjuiced witch moved frantically; worried that this lovely friction would be lost at any moment.
Tracey walked around Lady Voldemort. She was still hard and had another go left in her and was deciding which hole to use when Tracey saw Lady Voldemort's mouth open in a passionate "oh."She remembered how Harry looked as if he was in utter rapture when he took Hermione and Hermione Jean in the mouth. Smiling, Tracey stood before Lady Voldemort's face, held her head in place firmly, and shoved her polyjuiced cock down the evil witch's throat in one quick thrust. The popping sound of Lady Voldemort's jaw being forcibly unhinged was covered by Tracey's loud groan of pleasure.
Tracey threw her head back. This was amazing. She now knew the pure joy Harry felt when he throat-shagged one of the Hermiones. The way Lady Voldemort's muscles squeezed and contracted around her polyjuiced penis sent an electrical charge up Tracey's spine. The polyjuiced witch pumped once, twice, three times. Each thrust sending her meat deeper and deeper into Lady Voldemort's throat. Tracey let out a low grumble as she continued to pound away at the evil witch's throat like a piston. For several long minutes, Tracey was in heaven. Then the world went away in a blast of white light. For the third time, Tracey experienced what it felt like for Harry when he came. She shot string after string of her spunk down Lady Voldemort's throat. When she was finished, Tracey nearly collapsed on top of Lady Voldemort. Tracey felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned to see one of the Harry's looking at her.
"Which one are you?" the unknown Harry asked Tracey.
"'m Tracey," she replied breathlessly and spent.
"I'm Hermione," the Harry said.
"Hey, Hermione, now I know why Harry loves to throat shag you!"
"About that… when Harry does that to me or Hermione Jean he pauses once in a while so we can catch our breath," stated Hermione.
"Yeah, so?" asked Tracey.
"You didn't pause to give Lady Voldemort a breath," added Hermione in a delicate manner.
"And?" asked Tracey, a little perturbed by Hermione's nagging. If Tracey had her way, she would stay in Lady Voldemort's mouth. The way her cold throat wrapped around… Tracey paused in her thoughts. Cold? The evil witch's throat had been hot and inviting when Tracey first started but was now cold. She stood up and looked down at the witch she had just throat shagged. Lady Voldemort, still with a semi-erect member in her mouth, looked up at Tracey with dead eyes.
"You killed her," Hermione pointed out.
Tracey screamed and recoiled away from the corpse. Now that the organ that had been acting as a plug had been removed, foul, unthinkable things gushed out of Lady Voldemort's lifeless mouth.
"Yeah, she died about two minutes before you came," Hermione clarified further.
"I throat shagged a corpse?" Tracey whimpered.
"Luckily I got off before the body expelled its bowels," Daphne said. "That would've been yucky."
"I came in a corpse! Oh my God!" wailed Tracey in disgust.
Hermione turned to Charlus and said; "See: it's just as easy as saying 'Oh Em Gee.'"