A Predicament of a Bestial Nature

“No. In his food.”
“No, in her food!”
“She’d suspect something!”
“So would he!”
Ron and Harry glared at each other. They had decided to play a prank on Hermione to loosen her up now that the NEWTs were over. She was still obsessing over what she had written for some of her answers – in point of fact, most of them – so she hadn’t noticed the joke-in-making.
Surprisingly the boys had been able to brew the potion. They could tell from the book that it was a cross-species love philtre, and that all they needed to do was feed it either to Hermione or Buckbeak. They were sure that the results would be hilarious.
Unfortunately, in all their infinite wisdom they still missed one thing due to their argument over who should receive the potion. A piece of the victim’s object of desire had to be included, similar to Polyjuice. Both boys were determined that they were right, and had each sneaked something into the cauldron: the feather Sirius had sent Harry at the end of third year, and a clump of Hermione’s hair cut from her bushy mane while she was occupied with studying.
“Look, Harry,” Ron said, “if we give Buckbeak the potion then she’ll be safe from him.”
“Yeah, but then he’ll be chasing after her,” Harry replied. “If she has the potion then she’ll be the one chasing him.”
“And if she forgets to bow first? He might kill her!”
“But she doesn’t have to worry about that now, not since we saved him four years ago.”
Now, it must be said that, in the aftermath of the exams, the boys weren’t thinking that clearly. Otherwise they would not have each taken a vial of the potion without consulting the other, never mind adding the extra ingredient in the first place.
“Just forget about it,” Harry said, standing up. Ron nodded in agreement, and the boys went their separate ways, both thinking that the other had given up.

Ron made sure that Hagrid wasn’t around when he slipped into his hut. Now that Buckbeak was back at Hogwarts he had full meals there, as well as a certain non-alcoholic brew just for him. Even Hagrid hated the smell and taste of the stuff (never did anyone regret being a taste-tester so much, even a Weasley). The overpowering odour was perfect for concealing the potion.
He poured it in and watched as the colour soon disappeared into the murkiness. No one would know that it was there – except him.
“Brilliant,” he said, and he hurried out of the shack.

“Hey, Dobby!” Harry called across the kitchen. The house elf ran to his side.
“How can Dobby help Harry Potter?” he asked.
“I need you to make sure that Hermione gets this in her goblet at lunch,” Harry said, holding up the vial. And only Hermione.”
“What is it for, Harry Potter?”
“Well, she’s just been so stressed lately, and it’ll calm her down,” he replied.
“Oh, of course! Dobby will do anything to help Harry Potter’s friend.”
“Thanks, Dobby! By the way, don’t tell anyone I was here, especially Ron and Hermione.”
“Dobby swears on his life, sir, on his very life he does.”
“Brilliant…”

Hermione ran a hand down her face and sighed. The bell had just rung for lunch.
“They must have left without telling me,” she said, frowning when she saw that her best friends weren’t in the common room. She shrugged, packed away her books, and then went down to the Great Hall.
“Hey, `Mione!” Ron said, patting the bench between them. “We saved you a seat.”
“You… always do,” she said, confused. The boys tilted their heads casually, and she decided to dismiss it. She could only hope that they hadn’t done anything stupid.
Hermione was so thirsty by the end of the meal that she downed all her pumpkin juice at once. She sighed as the last of the heavenly coolness trickled down her esophageus, and swallowed deeply.
“Mmm,” she moaned, and she looked up. Something started to pull at her, and she stood up, lost in her thoughts. Harry and Ron looked watched her as she drifted out of the hall, but she didn’t notice them.
Once she was outside she realised what the funny feeling was. She had to get to Buckbeak for some reason. Worried that he might be in danger, she set off at a run to Hagrid’s hut.
It frustrated her to no end when she saw that he wasn’t around. But then it hit her; sometimes he stayed in the Forbidden Forest, and had his meal there. Not even thinking about the rules she was breaking, she ran into the woods, darting between trees and leaping over branches.
This is so right! she thought, a bubble of happiness swelling up inside her as she searched for the hippogriff. Somewhere along the way she dropped her book bag, but didn’t stop to pick it up. She didn’t even notice its absence.
Finally she broke into a clearing, only to find that Buckbeak was the only one there. He turned his head at the rustle of the bushes, and their eyes met.
The bubble burst into a bonfire, and Hermione sank back against a tree, overcome by the dizzying sensations. Not only was she attracted to the beast in front of her, she was madly in love with him.
“Buckbeak,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Oh, Buckbeak.” She shut her eyes, her breathing getting quicker as she felt magic swirling through her body.
The clomp-clomp of hoof-beats and scratch-rustle of claws made their way towards her. She finally opened her eyes, smiling deliriously. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes as he gazed down. Trembling with emotion she raised a hand to his cheek. He pressed his feathery head into her palm, studying her with his eagle eyes. He ‘creaked’ something in hippogriff-talk, and she wished that she could understand him. But it didn’t take a genius-level IQ to know.
“I love you, too,” she said. He stepped forward again, this time resting his head over her shoulder in a tender embrace. She kissed his feathery neck.
“You beautiful creature,” she said, her hands caressing him. This time she moved closer, pressing herself against his body. His wings moved around to hold her, and she sighed with bliss… and something else. “B… Buckbeak?”
His hot breath on her neck made her shiver. Feeling pressed against his warm – no, hot – body made her breathless with excitement. She swallowed as his feathers tickled the backs of her legs and particularly her knees. An overwhelming need arose in her, and she sank to the ground.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked. Buckbeak bent his head down and clicked his beak at the edge of her skirt. She gasped, realising what she felt. She… she just had to get close to him. Her life depended on it.
“Buckbeak,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse. “You have to be in me.”
The hippogriff nodded and watched his love as she stripped for him. Her hands were shaky in their movements, and some of the buttons just couldn’t come undone fast enough. She kicked off her shoes as she shimmied her skirt down while ripping off her bra. Lastly she pushed her knickers down, taking off her socks at the same time.
Buckbeak walked closer to her, and Hermione pushed her clothes out of the way before stepping forward herself. He lowered his head, breath warm on her chest, and rubbed her skin with the smooth hardness of his beak. Once again he tickled her with his feathers.
“Oh, Buckbeak,” she repeated, and she stroked his cheeks. He pulled away and nodded at her. Her eyes took in the situation, trying to recall what she knew of the mating habits of hippogriffs from their Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Similar to a horse, if she recalled correctly, which was similar to a dog.
For a virgin she was getting incredibly wet at the thought of being taken from behind by this large beast. One hand against his chest told him to wait where he was, and she trailed the same hand along his body as she made her way past his wings. She then brushed her nude body against his side before feeling between his legs. Her jaw dropped when she felt what was growing there, and then moaned as she bit her lower lip. This could really hurt… but it would hurt even more if she didn’t mate with her love.
“Be gentle, darling,” Hermione whispered. Buckbeak nodded again, and she hoped that he understood. She dropped to her knees, dripping even more as she looked at his size. He could break her back if she wasn’t in a better position than on the ground. She looked around and saw a likely tree stump.
Buckbeak growled as his soon-to-be mate moved out from beneath his body, but perked up as she led him to the large stump. Hermione bent herself over it, and he saw that it was the perfect height to mount her without causing her harm.
She shivered in delight as he reared up behind her, his front legs landing either side of her arms and his body pressed against her back. She parted her legs as far as she could and he grunted as he moved between them. It excited Hermione beyond anything she had ever imagined as something poked around back there, and in her desperation to get rid of this ache she manoeuvred her hips until he was in the right position.
“Now!” she shouted. “Please, Buck… ah!”
He sank into her deeply, pushing past a little resistance as he revelled in this tightness. She was so small, so hot inside, and something was spilling freely out of her making his journey that much easier. He let out a mating cry as he settled inside her body.
Her eyes were nearly falling out of her head. She had heard that there was supposed to be pain, but didn’t dwell on the painlessness as her thirst for satisfaction was quenched with every heated, hard inch. She tried to say his name again, but couldn’t even get past the first letter. Fingernails digging into the dirt, she pushed back. Just as Buckbeak cried out, so did she.
Why shouldn’t he go deeper? She was his, and he had to show her that. He had to show everyone!
“Gods!” Finally, she was able to speak. With an extra hard push Buckbeak had seated himself all the way inside of her, and the remaining logic in her mind told her that this shouldn’t have been anatomically possible.
She brushed that little voice away in favour of savouring the complete connection. His pelvis was pressed right against her, and she wanted to cry in happiness.
Clenching around him, she twirled her hips and he let out another inhuman noise. Moments later he pulled out and then thrust forward all the way. Hermione shouted his name as she neared climax. The thrusts became shorter and shorter, until soon they were just rutting, unwilling to part. They fit together like puzzle pieces, their hearts beating as one.
Voices rising, Hermione and Buckbeak came together in a ferocious rush of bliss. He whined as he pumped his mate full, her inner muscles milking him for everything he had. Neither considered the consequence of their actions.
Twice more Buckbeak took his beloved, once on her back and once with her clinging onto his body from beneath. There was one thing left to do.

“You imbeciles! How could you be so foolish?” Professor Snape shouted. “Headmaster, surely you agree that they should be expelled now?”
“They are so near to graduating,” Professor Dumbledore said, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the two miscreants. “It would be a pity to put their education to waste…”
“It will not be a waste to them in Azkaban,” the potions master said, his black eyes glinting at the boys.
“It… it was just supposed to be a joke,” Harry said timidly. “It just didn’t turn out right…”
“Do you not realise what you have done? If both parties are fed the same potion they will fall in love with each other, a love that must be consummated or they will die of unhappiness.” The boys paled. “I see you are aware of what consummation means. It is especially effective if the potion has both of their DNA in it.”
“Effective? You mean that the potion won’t wear off?” Ron asked.
“Of course it won’t wear off, you stupid boy! Not now that they have both ingested it! What I mean is that, should they ‘mate’, Miss Granger will ultimately bear a child from the union, thanks to the added ‘effectiveness’.”
“I… I’m gonna be sick,” Harry said, standing up. Ron nodded in agreement, already putting a hand over his mouth. Before they could move any further, however, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Dumbledore called, gazing at the two Gryffindors with sorrow and disappointment. The door swung open, and there were sighs of relief when they saw that it was Hermione. But then they saw the wild state of her hair and clothes.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly, and she started to walk forward. It was obvious from the way she held her thighs apart and limped that they were too late. “Professor Dumbledore, I’ve just come to let you know that I’ll be staying with… someone else until the end of the school year… and possibly after.”
“Miss Granger, you have not done anything unwise, have you?”
“Oh, definitely not unwise,” she said, eyes sparkling. “It… it was brilliant. I had no idea anything could feel that wonderful!”
“Er, Hermione,” Harry said, scratching his head, “you didn’t shag Buckbeak, did you?”
“What? Of course not!” He and Ron smiled. “We made love.” The smiles faded, and Hermione dropped into a seat. She yelped, and stood up again straight away. She rubbed her backside, grinning sheepishly. “I guess it doesn’t hurt until after your first time.”
“You would not have felt any pain with the potion,” Professor Snape said, his face now schooled to an impassive expression.
“Potion?”
“Miss Granger, you may wish to sit down for this story. I believe your friends will have no trouble explaining things to you.” He arched an eyebrow at Ron and Harry.

Hermione’s expression never changed during the whole tale. When it got to the end she looked thoughtful.
“I am displeased with your behaviour,” she told her friends. “You’ve broken so many rules – so many laws – that I don’t even know where to begin. However,” she added, smiling again, “I cannot complain about this afternoon’s activities.” She squirmed. “And if it means that I can give a child to my love then I am very grateful.” She rubbed her stomach, her smile widening.
“Hermione, your body would not survive the labour,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward. “We must work out steps to take.”
“There are no steps,” she said. “I’m sure Professor Snape can tell you that.” The potions master nodded gravely, and Dumbledore groaned. “Don’t worry, sir. Hagrid and Madame Pomfrey can help; and the magic won’t allow me to be hurt.”
“Of course it will not,” Snape said. “What I am concerned about is the… child’s future, if I can call it that. Half-human, half-hippogriff. Surely you know what happened to the Minotaur in Greek mythology?”
“It will have its parent’s love,” Hermione said, grimacing as she stood again. “Now if you don’t mind I will get my essentials and then return to the forest. It’s starting to hurt, being away from Buckbeak.” She clutched at her chest. “A-actually, I will have to come back later. This… this is killing me.” She began to run to the doorway.
“Wait!” Harry and Ron called. She wrenched the door open and turned her head.
“What is it?”
“W-we can’t let you do this,” Ron said, stepping towards her. She moved back.
“You’ve done enough,” she said. “Now leave me alone. I have somewhere else to be.”

Of course, the birth was a success. Can’t have an unhappy ending, can we? Fortunately the baby was not a hybrid, and the professors at Hogwarts had searched until they found a charm that would allow Hermione to understand Hippogriff-speech. The father’s DNA had been stronger, resulting in a pure hippogriff being born. Hagrid had given Hermione all the information he could, and she learnt the rest by experience.
It may have been a manufactured love as a result of a prank gone wrong, but Hermione and Buckbeak’s deep affection never wavered, nor did their passion. She gave birth to three more hippogriffs during their lives together, and while it caused a stir in the wizarding world Harry and Ron were outed as the culprits behind everything, lessening the tarnish on Hermione’s reputation. They were assigned community service and were also forced to work for Professor Snape. He assigned them horrible tasks like gathering and preparing ingredients, brewing disgusting potions and – of course – testing them.
It was a fitting punishment. But, as the two lovebirds couldn’t have been happier with the result, none of it really mattered.

A/N: I hope no one was unjustly disturbed by this story. I’m a strange person, trying to do many different pairings. But anyway.
If anyone even thinks about flaming this, please remember that you were the one/s who decided to read this story. You have only yourselves to blame, not me.