Virgin

[Disclaimer] Characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this story.

It was a myth, or at least rather wrong-headed of the Order to believe that Peter Pettigrew had gone very far. As a matter of fact, in his rat form, the turncoat Marauder was more than able to keep his cover in tact roaming between the walls of the inner sanctum of rebel territory: Hogwarts Castle.

Crawling between the muck and filth, tiny silver paw lagging slightly with its extra weight as he padded from crevice to crevice, peering out at the students. He could watch Potter with impunity, keep track of Malfoy’s movements and report his successes, and most importantly to him; watch the nubile young girls changing, showering, experimenting with their own sexuality.

Though the Dark Lord would find it distasteful in the extreme, Wormtail had formed quite a fixation on the feminine member of the Trio. He watched her with fascination. The way her mouth twitched in irritation as those stupid, foul little boys insulted her with their banality. He even glared at his former owner’s fumbling attempts to woo her and chattered in amusement as she once again threw him off.

Sometimes, between the walls, he could watch her in the shower. Her dexterous fingers knew just where to play on her lividly red inner folds. She’d part her legs and then the lips as if she knew Peter was below. It was a performance for him, and he welcomed the visual. Though the other rats were afraid of him, mostly because of the strange glittering paw, he often secured a furry mate to sate his desires after such a show. He watched carefully for the proper female in heat, stroking one that smelled interesting until her legs stiffened and her head and tail rose and her opening flared its welcome to her. Then he would mount and fix his teeth into her scruff. Closing his eyes, he would imagine the brush of bushy hair in his face and breathed in the sweet scent of the fresh soap Granger used that still wafted humidly between the walls.

But tonight was different. Tonight the walls were silent for him. He would have no other but the magnificent teen girl whose nipples he could almost taste within his shrunken jowls. His pink tongue lashed out over his snout as he lapped at the water left on the floor from her shower. He waited. Candles were blown out. He waited. There was a steady and soft drone of sleep. He waited. It was way into the middle of her REM sleeping when he made his move.

He jumped, hooked his claws and pulled his way up her comforter and into his bed. His whiskers twitched as he sniffed over her face, pressing his wet nose against her lips. It was as close to a kiss as he’d ever remembered having. But dark romanticism wasn’t what he was here for. No, he was here for her. He was intoxicated by the sharp tang of her sex and as he tucked himself under her covers, he allowed his nose to lead him down between her silken thighs to those rapturously wet folds of her sex.

Teasing at her gently with his snout and twitching his whiskers, he almost squeaked with pleasure as she let out a long sigh and her legs parted further for him. He waited a moment. But she did not stir further. He charged forward, driving his narrow snout between the wet flaps of skin as his paws pushed her apart to ease his entrance. Diving his head into her, he licked at her inner walls and felt her body squirm at the sensation of his warm and furry body stroking her.

Not unlike a rat female, once stimulated, a human female’s vaginal will dilate when aroused. This delighted Wormtail as he pushed himself out for a deep breath of air before he drove himself back in determinedly. His haunches pushed his body in deeply and his tail lashed at her silken thighs until he started to slowly turn himself about inside of her womb. He was delighted to be slick with her juices. Ansideside of her he could feel the exotic rumblings of her moaning and shifting as different parts of his furry body traced over the wanton nerves that desired the stroking.

It was so tight and warm and delightful that Peter would have liked nothing better to remain inside of her, causing her to squirm with that exquisite pleasure. He could tease her in class, taunt her, thrill her, make her beg for more at any time he wished. But alas, the need for air caused him to wriggle about until his head shifted back out of her shivering fissure. Outside of her body, her thighs immediately pressed in against his head. In the cold of the place outside of her was thrashing and low moaning. He looked up at the exposed protrusion of her un-hooded clitoris. It swayed before him, begging for attention, which he gave it, opening his jaw to lap at it and pull it into his mammalian mouth.

Her inner walls undulated to milk his rodent body, causing him to rut his tiny rat erection against her silken insides. He had to wiggle forward to squeeze out his forelegs to keep from getting sucked inside of her as she flailed under her covers, groaning quietly in her pleasure. Her thighs started to shake as his tail whipped around inside of her and his tiny mouth kept strict attention to her tiny erection. It took a few minutes, but eventually her back arched dramatically off of the bed and her cunt gave a few exaggerated pulses and then she flopped back down, spent and flooding her canal with her pleasure, soaking Peter’s already damp fur.

It took Peter just a few more rutting strokes to finally release his puny by comparison orgasm inside of her. He was wet, stunned, and thrilled. He had just begun to crawl his way out of her when he felt a sudden and very cold wind on his back and heard the shrieking of the horrified girl. Hermione watched in revulsion as a brown rat with a silver paw skittered out of her and off into a crack in the wall, dragging the last vestige of her hymen still caught on its back foot.