Justinian
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You are a Stud, Harry. (Ch.5)
🕑 Added 2024-04-08 19:14:30 +0000 UTCWhen Hermione Granger saw the redhead woman stand up and move towards the cabin door, she hurried to leap away and put some distance between the door and herself.
As best she could, the bushy haired witch tried to assume the look of nonchalance. She was failing...miserably. Her face was flaming red, blazing with embarassment and, if Hermione were to be honest with herself, lust. Her hair was dishevelled, even more so than usual and her brand new Hogwarts uniform was askew from when Hermione sought to...relieve the pressure the lurid sight of debauchery had caused her.
So when this redhead witch stepped out of the cabin of the Hogwarts Express, it came as no surprise to flustered Hermione, that the other witch smiled mischievously at her.
“She knows!” Hermione thought with surging panic.
For a moment images of possible futures spun before her mind’s eye, each more disastrous than the last. Public humiliation, violence, curses and the worst outcome of all – expulsion!
This lasted no more than a heartbeat, before Hermione’s more logical side resumed control over her mind.
“Don’t be a fool.” Hermione chided herself. “Stumbling onto two students having sex is not a valid cause for expulsion. No such precedent in the History of Hogwarts.”
Hermione’s eyes snapped to the approaching redhead, who with not a sign of any shame sauntered up to her. The muggleborn witch couldn’t help but glance at the redhead’s thighs, where a thin strand of semen slowly trickled down.
“I tired that stud out. For a bit.” The redhead winked at her. “If you want a ride, you better hurry.”
And just like that, Ginny Weasley left astounded Hermione, moving further down the train corridor with an unmistakeable sway in her hips.
Hermione swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest.
Should she? Hermione knew what sex was, she had attended the Sex Ed classes as diligently as any of her other classes, and what the school could have omitted, her parents made sure to explain to her during the one lecture Hermione wished she could purge from her mind.
Still, Hermione was a virgin. Her relationship with the opposite sex had never progressed far enough for...for...s-sex.
Hermione had never thought of herself as particularly lustful. That sort of behaviour was for shameless harlots as her mom liked to say. But there was no denying that the sight of real life coitus ignited something in her. The heat pooled between her thighs, her core begging to be touched, for anything to relieve the desperate, needy pressure building up there.
Hermione had read everything there was to read about Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. She had had many expectations about the living legend of her own age.
She did not expect to see his p-penis.
Hermione licked her lips. The redhead left the cabin door ever so slightly ajar, leaving the young man inside a semblance of privacy, but doubtlessly leaving it open to mock and tempt Hermione.
“That hussy!” Hermione tried to muster up indignation.
She failed.
Hermione was far too interested in what, or rather, who was inside that cabin.
A peak. Surely just a peak wouldn’t hurt. Hermione had to check on the young man, purely to see he was doing alright, that his romp with the redhead did not leave him in any trouble. Yes, that’s right. Hermione was doing it for his own good.
If she tried hard enough, Hermione might have even believed it.
Slowly, Hermione tiptoed to gap between the door and the wall separating cabins. She looked inside, expecting to see Harry Potter asleep, or at least paying attention to something other than the door.
Oops.
No such luck.
Harry Potter’s bright green eyes peered right into her own.
Hermione froze. Fear and indecision binding her as surely as a properly cast Petrificus Totalus.
“Hi there.” Harry Potter said, looking embarrassed though surely nowhere near as much as Hermione herself did.
“Hello.” Faintly, Hermione heard herself say. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Y-you should change.” Hermione managed to stammer, while doggedly avoiding looking at Harry Potter’s crotch. “In your uniform, I mean. We will be at Hogwarts soon.”
Hermione did not know if what she was saying was true or not. She was just trying desperately to fill the silence that threatened to swallow her up.
“A-agkh.” Harry Potter choked on his words, his cheeks reddening. “Are you sure you want to me to put on clothes?”
The cheek of that man!
Hermione watched, mortified, as the young man shifted and spread his legs slightly, to show off the...the THING there.
Hermione was not too familiar with such matters, but she was sure men’s penises were not supposed to be this big!
Red to the roots of her hair, Hermione avoided both looking at the manhood and refused to meet Harry Potter’s insufferable, all-too-knowing gaze.
“I am sure.” Hermione said, hoping she sounded sure, but knowing she didn’t. “The n-nerve of yours!” She huffed.
Hermione was about to leave when someone else intruded upon the conversation.
It was loathing at first sight.
The newcomer was a statuesque beauty, tall and with breasts and hips of a grown, gorgeous woman, for all that Hermione was sure the platinum blonde was about the same age as her.
The young woman’s hair was arranged in a tasteful french braid and her lips were full and red as cherries and so kissable even Hermione wondered for a wild instant what would it be like to kiss her.
Compared to her, Hermione might as well have been her middle-school self, covered in pimples and with hair that looked like it had woodland critters living there.
Hermione became uncomfortably aware of her a tad too large teeth. Her hand was halfway to her face to cover her mouth before Hermione caught herself.
She was jealous. Hermione was woman enough to admit it, but if that were all, Hermione would have gotten over it in short order. What really rubbed her wrong was the subtle sneer on the blonde newcomer’s face. The young woman looked like she had smelled something profoundly foul and was looking forward to making it someone else’s problem.
Hermione hoped she would not have to share a House with this woman.
Meanwhile, the platinum blonde spared only a passing glance at Hermione, dismissed her and surveyed the cabin.
“Oh my.” The newcomer said, her cool blue eyes widening momentarily, before narrowing back into a sly expression. “I have heard Harry Potter was on the train and with a,” Blonde’s eyes dipped meaningfully down to the man’s crotch. “wand like this, you are surely him.”
“Yep. Harry Potter, that’s me.” Harry said, appearing nonchalant at the intrusion. “And you are?”
The haughty woman smirked.
“Malfoy. Lyra Malfoy.” Lyra said smugly.
Before Hermione could stop herself, a laugh burst out of her mouth. Honestly, malfoy, of all nonsensical names. Granger family regularly vacationed in France and Hermione had picked up a smattering of french. Bad faith was not the worst name, Hermione had heard, and England certainly had its fair share of humourous last names, but Malfoy was most certainly not the kind of surname to be stated with such aplomb.
Lyra Malfoy glared at Hermione.
“Something funny?” She asked, fury visible in her eyes.
Hermione waved her hands in what she hoped was a conciliatory gesture. Just because the woman was likely a bitch, didn’t mean Hermione had to start conflicts before she so much as arrived to Hogwarts.
“No. Nothing. Just remembered something.” Hermione said.
Lyra did not look like she believed Hermione’s words.
“And you are?” She asked arrogantly.
“Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you.” If Hermione’s tone was less than polite, she did not bother fretting over it.
Especially once she saw Lyra’s haughty smile curdle into an expression of disgust. Immediately Malfoy turned away from her and back towards Harry, who was frowning as he observed the interaction.
“You’ll find, Harry Potter, witches are not equal. There are...all sorts in Hogwarts, some better than others.” Lyra said and Hermione would have been dumb as a sack of wet books not to notice the implication. “I could help you.” The blonde purred, her eyes sparking with promise. “There are many, ah, benefits to being my friend.” Lyra Malfoy said and moved forward, her intention clear as day.
XxXxX
Harry was not amused as he observed Lyra Malfoy. Nor was he aroused, which was a bit weird considering how objectively hot the newcomer was. Harry would not have minded exploring the “benefits” if it were not for one simple fact.
As fine a bird as this Lyra Malfoy was, there was no changing the fact that she was a cunt.
He might not have grown up on the magical side of Britain, but over the last month, Harry went through quite a few of his books in an effort to deal with his ignorance. Among the many little factoids he had learned, the pure blood agenda was among the more important ones.
Lyra Malfoy appeared the perfect example of it.
And if there was one lesson Dudley’s ramblings had actually stuck in his memory, “Don’t stick your dick in crazy” was definitely the one.
On top of it, Lyra did not look like casual fun sort of gal. Harry could easily imagine the haughty blonde trying to spin a quickie into some sort of obligation to marry her or some such aristocratic nonsense.
Then again….
Harry’s eyes darted from Lyra to Hermione. The brown haired witch was cutie, if not as striking as the blonde. Could Harry spin this into a threesome? A little bit of lesbian angry sex sounded quite fascinating.
Harry hummed. No. Probably not. If the dark look between the two was any indication, these two witches were far more likely to resolve their disagreements through violence than angry snogging.
Shame.
“I can figure out who to associate with myself. But thank you for the offer.” Harry said.
He kept his voice even. Just because he wasn’t a delusional bigot, didn’t mean he had to be rude about it.
For a moment, Lyra just stared furiously at him.
“You have no idea how important the proper breeding is in the Witching World.” She told him imperiously.
Harry just laughed.
“On the contrary.” He replied, still chuckling. “I’ve been learning very quickly just how much you witches value...breeding.” Harry said, his voice heavy with suggestion.
Lyra flushed, though whether in anger or embarassment, Harry could not tell. It looked adorable in either case. Made for a nice contrast with the haughty image of a noblewoman Lyra tried so hard to project.
“Don’t be so crass!” Hermione suddenly shouted.
Harry raised an eyebrow. The brown haired girl did not seem like a prude and yet here she was glaring down at him.
The interruption was all Lyra needed to regain a modicum of her composure. The sneer was back in its place, a look of cold disdain covering her face like a mask. Only the reddened tips of the pureblood’s betrayed the blonde’s true feelings.
“Don’t butt in your betters’ business!” Lyra snapped, her voice like a whip.
Hermione puffed up with a look of an oncoming explosion on her face. Harry got a foreboding feeling of a grade A rant incoming and he wanted no part of it.
Quickly, Harry stood up, the movement catching the eyes of both young women. For a moment their eyes were drawn to his flopping half hard cock, before snapping back to glaring at each other.
“Alright, alright.” Harry said. “You can have your little catfight outside. Haven’t you said we are approaching Hogwarts? I am sure there are plenty lovely women who’d rather see me naked, but I would prefer to change into my uniform. Unless either of you mind?” He teased the two girls.
For a moment no-one said anything. Lyra was glaring intermittently at either Harry or Hermione, while Hermione shifted her weight from her heels to her toes, an uncertain look plain apparent on her face.
Finally, Lyra broke the mounting tension.
“I’ll let the matter rest, Potter.” Lyra gave Harry a look that seemed heavy with meaning, but for the life of him Harry couldn’t tell which. “I suggest you take a better care of the kind of company you keep.”
And with these charming parting words, Lyra left.
“What a bitch.” Hermione muttered, then blushed when she realised she said it out loud. “Eh, I better be going then.” She stumbled over her words. “I’ll see you at Hogwarts.”
Hermione fled before Harry could reply.
As Harry hurriedly changed into the traditional wizarding robes, Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. No doubt his magical education was going to be eventful if the passing day was any indication.
Still, he hoped that this little confrontation would not turn into anything ugly. The last thing Harry wanted was some drama to spoil the world of magic for him.
XxXxX
Harry was peacefully enjoying his breakfast when suddenly an all too familiar platinum blonde entered his periphery. Before Harry could so much as put down his spoon and piece of toast, Lyra Malfoy slammed her palms into the Gryffindor table and glared at Harry.
“I challenge you to a duel, Potter. It’s about time someone put a stop to your arrogant strutting about!”
Once again, before Harry could so much as gather his thoughts for a response, Ginny Weasley who had been sitting nearby, butted in.
“He accepts!” She said. “I will be his second. Yours?”
Lyra appeared to think for a second.
“Greengrass will do.” She told Ginny, before turning back to Harry. “Today. Midnight. Trophy Room. Don’t be late.”
Harry let out a sigh. How troublesome.
Then he glared at his fellow Gryffindor that he somehow found himself being friends with. Ginny was grinning sheepishly, her previous excitement replaced by apprehension.
Yes, tonight Harry was going to have at least two naughty witches to spank.
