Puppeteering

-Puppeteering-

When Hermione Granger made her first visit to Hogwarts’ library she never imagined that someday its contents would lead her here, behind the spell-locked curtains surrounding the bed of a Slytherin boy. She’d definitely never imagined this tableau: Blaise Zabini bent over on his knees, with his hands splayed against the headboard, his bum in the air, and her hand up his arse.

It was all Harry’s fault, really. He should have known she’d research homosexual sex after he’d confessed to her and Ron that he was gay. (Honestly. Losing a Quidditch game because he was trailing after Malfoy – Malfoy! – to watch his thighs clenching around his broom.) She’d read all about heterosexual sex months ago when Ron first asked her to Madam Pudifoot’s one Hogsmeade weekend. Not that she had any intention of using the information. Well, no intention of using most of it. Yet.

It had taken her half the week just to find the books: they were all under the heading \"Crooked Wands\" instead of anything logical. She should have guessed sooner, though; after all, the books she’d read on Ron’s behalf had been in the Potions section under \"Stirring Caldrons.\" Merlin forbid Ginny turned out a lesbian. It’d take a month just to figure out the likely euphemism. Hermione had already begun a list of candidates, though, just in case. She certainly couldn’t ask Madam Pince for that sort of help.

Hermione sighed and tried to reposition herself on the bed. If only she hadn’t let slip to Zabini, when he snuck up on her in the library, that she was reading the books on Harry’s behalf. She might have been able to talk her way out of this situation. Some girls received sexual pleasure from watching gay men have sex. She knew this because she’d read it in a book called \"Waving Your Own Wand,\" which she’d read in first year but not really understood until sometime later. Hermione wouldn’t have liked Zabini to reveal that sort of information about her to the school, but the Daily Prophet had printed false stories about her before, so she was no stranger to embarrassment and false rumours. Or she might have realized sooner that she could have blackmailed Zabini herself. After all, he had to have been stalking that section of the library for a reason. But no, instead she was here, on a Slytherin’s bed, with a Slytherin moving himself back and forth on her hand.

Hermione wondered for a moment if Zabini would ejaculate from just this or if she’d have to touch his penis as well. She’d only agreed to do exactly what was on the page she was reading, and masturbating was in the first section of the book. Nowhere near anal fisting. But she wasn’t going to sit here all afternoon, and Zabini said she’d have to make him come for their bargain to be fulfilled. He also said that she had to be silent, and do nothing except what the book said; he didn’t want to remember that it was Hermione Granger behind him even while it was happening. Which stood to reason, she supposed, if he had been hoping to find another boy reading the books instead of her.

Oh, thank Merlin she hadn’t sent Harry to research for himself. He might have been trapped in here instead, and that would have been worse if word had gotten out, since he wished to keep it secret.

At any rate, Hermione was honour-bound to see this bad situation through. Zabini certainly seemed to be enjoying it, anyway. His back seemed to arch and fall with each thrust and pull onto and off of her arm. And he was moaning! Strangled, half-formed words were falling out his mouth into the pillow below him, and it looked as if he were drooling, but since Hermione had folded in her thumb and made those last few pushes to get her wrist bone past his sphincter he hadn’t closed his mouth, so it shouldn\'t have surprised her.

Thank Merlin, God, and anything anyone had ever believed in that she had already passed the section on analingus when he found her.

Hermione wondered how Ron would react if she put her fingers up his bum the next time she performed fellatio on him (once for each potions class he escaped without detention). But no, he’d be looking for a new girlfriend before she even got her fingers back out.

Well, at least she could offer Harry practical advice on two subjects. She was pretty good with fellatio, she thought. She’d only nicked Ron with her tooth once – thank Merlin again for her spell-reduced teeth – and Zabini seemed to be thrusting himself into a frenzy now, so she must have done something right. She hadn’t thought he’d put up with this for so long, though. It couldn’t possibly feel as good as he was making it seem.

Unless... he had surprised her from behind while she was taking notes on how properly to prepare the anus for penetration. Maybe he’d been waiting for her to get to that point in the book. He hadn’t seemed put off at all when she’d told him what exactly she’d been reading about.

Sneaky, horny, blackmailing git.

Maybe she should do something to help this along. She hadn’t even tried to find his prostate gland. But maybe he’d already found that on his own.

Zabini’s shoulders dropped down to the pillow and Hermione snapped out of her reverie. One of his hands was wrapping around his penis. She’d never seen a boy masturbating before. Not even Ron, though she had done it to Ron a few times. Zabini’s penis was a darker colour than Ron’s, the glans more purple. His scrotum was entirely hairless, as was the cleft of his arse, and she’d seen earlier that Zabini kept the rest of his pubic hair trimmed into a thin strip like a runway leading to his... his prick. Ron was red all around. His skin flushed more red than usual when he was aroused; his pubic hair seemed to be everywhere and was a darker shade than the hair on his head, and the glans of his penis turned an almost frightening shade of red when he was erect.

This had to end soon. Her arm was getting tired.

Hermione leaned her head down a little and licked her arm, not quite where it was touching Zabini’s arse. She tasted salt and the strange spell-created lubrication. It was supposed to taste good – she’d taken notes on that earlier too – but it wasn’t quite pleasant. She had read about this, she could manage it, so she pushed her face in a little closer, between the two halves of Zabini’s bum, and licked around the rim of Zabini’s arse. And suddenly his muscles clenched so tight it felt like they were trying to swallow her arm down like a snake taking its prey in whole. His prick was jerking around like a puppet on a string and his semen, his come, was dripping from his fingers and stomach and making wet, little puddles on the sheet beneath him before Hermione realized quite what was happening.

He’d shouted out Draco’s name then, and she’d sniggered because she’d caught Malfoy with a Hufflepuff girl after curfew not too long ago. Why all the gay wizards were attracted to Malfoy, she’d never understand. But now Zabini was shouting, \"Out! Get out!\" at her. If she could get free, she’d already have been gone, but Zabini’s arse was still spasming around her arm, and she knew from the book that she couldn’t just yank it out. Zabini shouted a spell she must not have reached yet in the book because her hand flew out his arse like a bullet from a gun. Then he rolled over, and pushed her out through the curtains, and then just as quickly out through the door. He stood there naked and trembling and told her that if she ever, ever told anyone what he’d said, she’d wish for Draco’s beaver tooth spell because even You-Know-Who would never dream of the things he’d do to her.

Hermione blinked, and surreptitiously sniffed her hand while pretending to wipe her nose. It didn’t even smell like the weird lubrication, so she just cast a light cleaning spell before giving Zabini a little wave and a grin. Just let him try to manipulate her again, now she knew his secret; she was nobody’s puppet.


AN: I know this Hermione is very cold, almost unnervingly analytical. She\'s meant to be though: this is her trying to remain detached from something more intimate than anything she\'s ever done or probably ever intended to do. It\'s easier to think about Blaise\'s \'penis\' than his \'cock\' or his \'prick\', because she\'s being a bit.. medicinal about it, as if she were a doctor or performing some sort of study, and not sitting on a bed with her fist up someone\'s arse.