Be Careful in the Dark
folder
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
48
Views:
40,429
Reviews:
78
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
48
Views:
40,429
Reviews:
78
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Stumble
Disclaimer: Still not mine....
Hermione ghosted through the halls of Hogwart’s. It was late; the clock on her bedside had read 3am. It was far enough into the night that no one would be awake…not even insomniac Snape.
Training while at school was difficult. Some things she could work into her “normal” life….running, lifting weights. These were quiet activities, private for the most part and a small charm to divert attention elsewhere went a long way. She was careful not to overuse the Head Girl common room…it was too easy to get caught. However, she did at least know the prefects schedules…useful information when one wanted to sneak around.
She momentarily shook her head over her rise to the position of Head Girl. She didn’t deserve it. Her grades were good but not that good and she had a suspicion Dumbledore had given it to her in the hopes her authority could somehow reign in Harry. She snorted mentally. Yeah right.
The only solution to the training problems she could come up with was the Room of Requirement…and that had taken her far too long to think of. So now, well over a month into the semester she was standing in front of the ROR, trying to get it to open up.
She paced back and forth before the entrance to the Room of Requirement, brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, the door opened and Hermione hustled in. She stopped in surprise as she entered and then grinned. This was perfect. Hardwood floors and mirrored walls over to one side, jump rope hanging from the wall, speed bag, heavy bag, wrestling mat complete with dummy...everything a girl could want.
She concentrated and then snapped her wand over her body…sports bra, snug shorts, wrapped hands, and hair tight against her head. Then she pulled a small, orange bottle out of her school bag. It was a new mind/body enhancement potion…she had to make sure she kept switching up the potions she used so her body wouldn’t start to build an immunity. The potion would help her form muscle memory and push her body harder than it could go. Of course, like all short cuts, it had its price. After it wore off, she would crash and if she overused it…it might cause her brain to start hemorrhaging uncontrollably and then she would die.
With a shrug she downed it.
The world swam…everything seemed bright and hard…she couldn’t move fast enough or learn enough. She skipped rope, becoming increasingly complicated in her footwork. It wasn’t enough. Her muscles felt twitchy. Hermione moved to the speed bag, trying to relax into the rhythm…faster, faster. Her body was an efficient machine…there was nothing she couldn’t do…she laughed and started doing pull-ups on the frame of the speed bag.
The heavy bag looked so inviting…she kicked, kneed, punched, elbowed….again and again she slammed her body into the heavy bag…harder, faster, stronger. Finally, she used a little magic to call up an imaginary opponent. It wasn’t as good as sparring with a person but it was better than nothing.
She dropped under a kick, driving two hands viciously towards its crotch. She was on fire. She was unstoppable.
An alarm sounded and she dropped into a defensive stance. It took a few moments for her brain to process what it was…she had set a timer…it was time to go back. She frowned. Surely it hadn’t been two hours. Surely she had a little more time…she’d barely gotten anything done. Hermione trotted over muttering under breath.
“Damn things not working…” She glared at the timer. Everything was in order. She had to return. With a growl she changed her clothes back to sweats and trainers. She picked up her bag and stalked out of the room of requirement.
She stalked through the halls angry that she had to stop. She was just starting to learn what she need. Stupid school, stupid rules. Didn’t they know who she was?
“Granger?” A voice cut through the darkness of the halls and Hermione froze, a irritated sneer on her face.
“Fuck off, Parkinson.” Hermione said over her shoulder. She kept walking.
“Does Dumbledore know you’re wandering the halls at this hour?” Pansy voice sounded tight and slightly strangled in anger.
Hermione let out a big sigh and turned around.
“I’ll bet he doesn’t.” Pansy continued.
Hermione stared at the other girl deliberately. Pansy had started to grow into her face. Or her face had started to grow into her. Wait, that didn’t make sense. Hermione shook her head and tried to focus. Currently, though, Pansy’s eyes were scrunched and glittered in anger. Her mouth was pinched. It was not a flattering look. Hermione said as much to Pansy.
Pansy made an indignant squawked and stomped forward. She stopped about 3 inches from Hermione’s face.
“You’re a bushy-haired, buck-toothed, peasant!” Pansy drew in another breath to let loose another insult but stopped suddenly, all the air whooshing out of her lungs, as Hermione punched in her the stomach.
“You’re a Slytherin, Pans.” Hermione said conversationally as she wound up another punch. “Surely you’ve figured out that power is more important than a family tree.” With a crack, she punched Pansy right in the mouth; Pansy tumbled onto her rear. Pansy looked up at Hermione in fear, wiping a smear of blood from her mouth. She clutched for her wand as Hermione walked forward.
She had always wanted to punch this irritating bitch, she was nobody. Nothing. No power, no influence. Just a lot of puffed up talk.
“I mean, look at Voldemort. He’s not a pureblood but…” Hermione dodged a poorly thrown curse from Pansy, “…he surely has enough of you scraping their faces across the floor, doesn’t he?”
“Oririus Premo!” Hermione hissed. Pansy rose in the air, legs kicking. She gasped as the spell began to tighten around her chest.
“Do you sniff the floor for that….” Hermione trailed off, anger rising up and rolling through, so strong she thought she might choke.
Tears began to leak out of Pansy’s eyes.
Hermione’s vision began to blur around the edges. A tiny voice whispered in her head urgently. Are you nuts? You’re going to kill her. She hasn’t even done anything!
Tremors started to ripple through her muscles and the high she’d been riding started to crash. Sharp pain lanced through her belly and she doubled over in pain. Her spell on Pansy faded and the blond girl fell to the floor, also gasping.
With a shaking hand, Hermione fired off an obliviate spell and then another to put her to sleep. Every muscle in her body was shaking and she stumbled through the halls, any attempts at stealth blown to hell. She could only hope no one would see her.
Convulsions were beginning as she stumbled towards her night stand and downed the vitamin/protein drink she had prepared beforehand. The nutrients flushed through her body and the shakes decreased almost immediately. With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed into the bed and passed out.
Hermione ghosted through the halls of Hogwart’s. It was late; the clock on her bedside had read 3am. It was far enough into the night that no one would be awake…not even insomniac Snape.
Training while at school was difficult. Some things she could work into her “normal” life….running, lifting weights. These were quiet activities, private for the most part and a small charm to divert attention elsewhere went a long way. She was careful not to overuse the Head Girl common room…it was too easy to get caught. However, she did at least know the prefects schedules…useful information when one wanted to sneak around.
She momentarily shook her head over her rise to the position of Head Girl. She didn’t deserve it. Her grades were good but not that good and she had a suspicion Dumbledore had given it to her in the hopes her authority could somehow reign in Harry. She snorted mentally. Yeah right.
The only solution to the training problems she could come up with was the Room of Requirement…and that had taken her far too long to think of. So now, well over a month into the semester she was standing in front of the ROR, trying to get it to open up.
She paced back and forth before the entrance to the Room of Requirement, brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, the door opened and Hermione hustled in. She stopped in surprise as she entered and then grinned. This was perfect. Hardwood floors and mirrored walls over to one side, jump rope hanging from the wall, speed bag, heavy bag, wrestling mat complete with dummy...everything a girl could want.
She concentrated and then snapped her wand over her body…sports bra, snug shorts, wrapped hands, and hair tight against her head. Then she pulled a small, orange bottle out of her school bag. It was a new mind/body enhancement potion…she had to make sure she kept switching up the potions she used so her body wouldn’t start to build an immunity. The potion would help her form muscle memory and push her body harder than it could go. Of course, like all short cuts, it had its price. After it wore off, she would crash and if she overused it…it might cause her brain to start hemorrhaging uncontrollably and then she would die.
With a shrug she downed it.
The world swam…everything seemed bright and hard…she couldn’t move fast enough or learn enough. She skipped rope, becoming increasingly complicated in her footwork. It wasn’t enough. Her muscles felt twitchy. Hermione moved to the speed bag, trying to relax into the rhythm…faster, faster. Her body was an efficient machine…there was nothing she couldn’t do…she laughed and started doing pull-ups on the frame of the speed bag.
The heavy bag looked so inviting…she kicked, kneed, punched, elbowed….again and again she slammed her body into the heavy bag…harder, faster, stronger. Finally, she used a little magic to call up an imaginary opponent. It wasn’t as good as sparring with a person but it was better than nothing.
She dropped under a kick, driving two hands viciously towards its crotch. She was on fire. She was unstoppable.
An alarm sounded and she dropped into a defensive stance. It took a few moments for her brain to process what it was…she had set a timer…it was time to go back. She frowned. Surely it hadn’t been two hours. Surely she had a little more time…she’d barely gotten anything done. Hermione trotted over muttering under breath.
“Damn things not working…” She glared at the timer. Everything was in order. She had to return. With a growl she changed her clothes back to sweats and trainers. She picked up her bag and stalked out of the room of requirement.
She stalked through the halls angry that she had to stop. She was just starting to learn what she need. Stupid school, stupid rules. Didn’t they know who she was?
“Granger?” A voice cut through the darkness of the halls and Hermione froze, a irritated sneer on her face.
“Fuck off, Parkinson.” Hermione said over her shoulder. She kept walking.
“Does Dumbledore know you’re wandering the halls at this hour?” Pansy voice sounded tight and slightly strangled in anger.
Hermione let out a big sigh and turned around.
“I’ll bet he doesn’t.” Pansy continued.
Hermione stared at the other girl deliberately. Pansy had started to grow into her face. Or her face had started to grow into her. Wait, that didn’t make sense. Hermione shook her head and tried to focus. Currently, though, Pansy’s eyes were scrunched and glittered in anger. Her mouth was pinched. It was not a flattering look. Hermione said as much to Pansy.
Pansy made an indignant squawked and stomped forward. She stopped about 3 inches from Hermione’s face.
“You’re a bushy-haired, buck-toothed, peasant!” Pansy drew in another breath to let loose another insult but stopped suddenly, all the air whooshing out of her lungs, as Hermione punched in her the stomach.
“You’re a Slytherin, Pans.” Hermione said conversationally as she wound up another punch. “Surely you’ve figured out that power is more important than a family tree.” With a crack, she punched Pansy right in the mouth; Pansy tumbled onto her rear. Pansy looked up at Hermione in fear, wiping a smear of blood from her mouth. She clutched for her wand as Hermione walked forward.
She had always wanted to punch this irritating bitch, she was nobody. Nothing. No power, no influence. Just a lot of puffed up talk.
“I mean, look at Voldemort. He’s not a pureblood but…” Hermione dodged a poorly thrown curse from Pansy, “…he surely has enough of you scraping their faces across the floor, doesn’t he?”
“Oririus Premo!” Hermione hissed. Pansy rose in the air, legs kicking. She gasped as the spell began to tighten around her chest.
“Do you sniff the floor for that….” Hermione trailed off, anger rising up and rolling through, so strong she thought she might choke.
Tears began to leak out of Pansy’s eyes.
Hermione’s vision began to blur around the edges. A tiny voice whispered in her head urgently. Are you nuts? You’re going to kill her. She hasn’t even done anything!
Tremors started to ripple through her muscles and the high she’d been riding started to crash. Sharp pain lanced through her belly and she doubled over in pain. Her spell on Pansy faded and the blond girl fell to the floor, also gasping.
With a shaking hand, Hermione fired off an obliviate spell and then another to put her to sleep. Every muscle in her body was shaking and she stumbled through the halls, any attempts at stealth blown to hell. She could only hope no one would see her.
Convulsions were beginning as she stumbled towards her night stand and downed the vitamin/protein drink she had prepared beforehand. The nutrients flushed through her body and the shakes decreased almost immediately. With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed into the bed and passed out.