The Weasleys’ Lord (Harry Potter)
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A/N: The Weasley's Lord was a discontinued two-shot commission originally written from October to November of 2020. Seeing as it will never be continued, I've bundled it up into a one-shot for readers to enjoy here!

Summary: Hermione Granger doesn't know what to think about the Weasley Family's Patron Lord when she finds out just before her wedding day what sort of liberties he's liable to take with her. But apparently it's just how things are done... so she grits her teeth and bears with it.

Themes: Dom/Sub, Rough Sex, Fucked Silly


"Big day, miss! I bet you're excited!"

As the stylist beams happily behind her, Hermione Jane Granger meets her eyes through the mirror on the vanity she's currently sat in front of and offers the best fake smile she can muster in response. She supposed she should have been excited. It WAS to be her Wedding Day, after all. A big day in anyone's estimation, the beautiful brunette expected.

Alas, young Hermione was still reeling from the conversation she'd had with her mother-in-law-to-be just the night before. A conversation that had honestly both astounded and confounded her.

"P-Pardon me?"

"Well, it's just the way things are done, my dear. Not to worry, it's expected of all of us Weasley Women, in the end. Ronald won't think any less of you for it. In fact, he'll be pleased!"

"Pleased?! Pleased that I'm to… to cheat on him with another man?!"

"Oh, but not just any man. He's the Savior of the Wizarding World, Hermione. More than that, he's our patron. Lord Potter has been the Weasley Family's patron for a long time now, and it's for the best that things are the way they are. You shouldn't be too concerned… in fact, I think you'll quite enjoy yourself, if you simply loosen up a little bit!"

Hermione hadn't known what to say to that, so in the end she hadn't said anything at all. Molly had taken her silence as acceptance, given her a wide smile and a pat on the knee, and left her to her sleep. And in a way… wasn't her silence acceptance? The fact that she hadn't raised any further protest, the fact that she was sitting here getting ready for her Wedding while she waited for it to happen… didn't that already mean she'd given in?

The sudden knock at the door makes Hermione jump, her shoulders hunching in as her stylist pulls back at the sudden jerking motion.

"Oh, dear me, you're far too tense! I wonder who's at the door, let's see here…"

Facing forward, staring directly into the mirror in front of her, Hermione doesn't need to turn back and look over her shoulder to see who's at the door when the other woman opens it up. Molly Weasley, beaming happily, steps in and behind her walks the man of the hour himself. No, not Hermione's husband to be, not Ron Weasley… but Lord Harry James Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, and the Man-Who-Won.

Hermione's breath hitches, and her blood pounds in her ears as she meets his vibrant, emerald green eyes. She barely even hears Molly ushering the stylist out and telling her that she'd take care of the rest. She then watches as Molly murmurs something low to Lord Potter, before stepping away as well. The door closes behind the Weasley Matriarch, leaving Hermione alone with the admittedly handsome Lord.

"Hello, Ms. Granger."

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, Hermione says the only thing she can think of to say in that moment.

"It will be Mrs. Granger-Weasley, soon enough."

In response, Lord Potter chuckles, those unfathomable verdant green eyes of his twinkling as he walks ever closer.

"Soon enough, I suppose. But… not quite yet."

A shiver runs down Hermione's spine. And it's not entirely one of trepidation. Merlin but she's a shameful woman, isn't she? Here she is on her Wedding Day, sitting in her wedding dress, all dolled up, ready to go get married to one man, while finding herself suddenly attracted to another. Combining that with what they were about to do and…

"Stand up."

Hermione's breath hitches at the commanding tone of voice. This was a man who was used to getting his way. But then, of course he was. He was Lord Harry James Potter. He wasn't just the Savior of the Wizarding World, he was the Wizarding World's wealthiest celebrity, at this point. Raised in secrecy, the rumors surrounding him were ceaseless, ultimately.

Hermione had read all about him, of course, when she'd first gone to Hogwarts. Finding out that he was of a same age as her, younger Hermione had thought there might be a chance of them meeting at Hogwarts. She'd even allowed herself to fantasize about being friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, back then.

But of course, that was a young girl's passing fancy, an honest pipe dream. Harry Potter had never gone to Hogwarts. He'd been tutored instead by all of the best wizards and witches in the world, or so they said. Taught incredibly difficult magics, trained in esoteric arts from the time he could walk. And then, he'd gone and used all of that to defeat Voldemort a second time when the would-be Dark Lord made his attempt at a second rise to power.

It wasn't hyperbole, when the magical world called Harry their Savior. The whole 'Man-Who-Won' shtick might be a bit too much, but even Hermione was undeniably grateful to Lord Potter for what he'd done. Her kind had it rough enough already, after all. Still, it had always been a… vague gratitude. Never once had she thought she would be called upon to… express her gratitude in this way.

Flushed with embarrassment, Hermione nevertheless obeys, standing up from her seat, smoothing down her wedding dress as she swallows nervously.

"Bend over. Palms down on the vanity."

He's so very sure of himself, isn't he? Somewhat like Ron… but at the same time, wholly different. Hermione wasn't going to lie to herself… her marriage to Ron was wholly one of convenience and necessity, at least on her part. Not that she would ever say so out loud, but it didn't matter how much Ron had mellowed out over the years (also, he really hadn't mellowed out at all), she would always remember him as the boy who had bullied her in her First Year.

She'd spent a month in the Hospital Wing convalescing after that Troll Attack, and she'd had plenty of time to pinpoint Ronald Bilius Weasley as the reason she'd been in that bathroom stall crying the night of Halloween. So yes, when it came to romance, Hermione would never love Ron. Unfortunately, as she'd learned, the adult world wasn't a fairy tale, not even the wizarding one. Love wasn't a factor, especially not for someone like her.

Lord Potter's hands come up and grab the back of her wedding dress, and Hermione's breath hitches as she bites her lower lip, staring at her own red face in the vanity mirror. He hikes up her dress and exposes her shapely ass and thicc thighs and long legs, not saying a word as he inspects her like… like a prize horse, or something.

Would Hermione have pursued this marriage if she'd known that the women who married into the Weasley Family were whored out to their patron, only Lord Harry Potter?

… Probably, truth be told. She was only marrying Ron, in the end, because he was the one Pureblood Wizard who had sniffed around her in her last years at Hogwarts. He was the only one to express interest. And as Hermione had rapidly discovered, it didn't matter how good her OWLS or her NEWTS were so long as she was muggleborn. If she wanted to get anywhere in this world, she had to marry into a Pureblood Family and grit her teeth and bear with it.

She was doing that last bit a bit earlier than expected though. Lord Potter's cock slaps down on her ass crack and he begins to hot dog her ass right then and there. Hermione tries to hold it in but can't help the whimper that leaves her lips as he toys with her sexually.

"Tell me, Ms. Granger… are you a virgin still?"

Not for lack of trying… but yes, in the end she still is. Hanging her head, Hermione nods dejectedly, answering him silently. Luckily, Harry doesn't demand verbal confirmation.

"Fair enough. Then we shall set that aside for the time being. A woman who has remained chase all the way up to her wedding day should be allowed to save her virginity for her wedding night, at the very least."

His clipped, confident words don't really register at first. But then she feels it, a prodding sensation at her buttocks. Hermione's eyes widen and her mouth opens as she realizes what Harry is about to do, only for a surge of magic to rush through her. She chokes on her words, in the end, as she feels her bowels being both cleaned out and loosened and well-lubricated in mere moments by wandless, silent magic.

And then, without further ado or so much as a 'by your leave', Harry Potter is pushing into her ass. Hermione chokes on her own spit as she feels her anus being deflowered. She's never had it in her ass either, no more than she's had it in her cunt. And yet, because he wants to, because he CAN… Lord Potter is fucking her ass while she leans over the vanity, still clad in her wedding dress.

"It's alright, Ms. Granger. I've already silenced the room. You can let your voice out."

Hermione hadn't even realized she was covering her mouth with one hand until he said something. Meeting his smirking face and twinkling green eyes in the mirror, Hermione slowly lowers her hand back down, letting her whimpers, her groans, her cries leave her lips as he begins to truly, properly ass fuck her. It doesn't hurt, of course, the magic he cast beforehand makes sure of that. In fact, much to Hermione's eternal shame and embarrassment, it's starting to feel rather… rather g-good.

A moan leaves her lips, and Hermione immediately tries to clamp down on it, her face now incandescent as she blushes crimson. In response, Lord Potter just grins at her knowingly, and begins to direct deeper, harsher thrusts into her surrendering rectum. More moans follow the first, along with squeaks and squeals and cries as Hermione finds herself getting wetter and wetter from the anal plundering.

His cock… it's quite large. And thick. And… and amazing, if Hermione is being honest. By the time things are in full swing, Hermione is singing like a canary, pushing her hips back into his thrusting member, clapping her ass into front of his trousers. Despite being dressed for her wedding day, she looks at herself in the mirror and can't help seeing more of a whore than a bride. She looks like such a scarlet woman… and yet… and yet…

A truly titanic shriek leaves Hermione's lips as she finally reaches an orgasm. An orgasm, from getting fucked in the butt. She's never been more humiliated in her life… but she's also never been more turned on.

"That's right, Ms. Granger. Fuck, your ass is so fucking tight."

Hermione moans in response, not trusting herself to speak, having no idea what words would even come out of her mouth if she even tried. Lord Potter grunts and growls, panting a little as he fucks her clenching, squeezing back door harder and faster. In the end though, despite his achievements, he is just a man. And all men have their limits.

He doesn't warn her, nor does he offer her a choice in the matter. With a loud groan, the Savior of the Wizarding World thrusts his cock as deep into her ass as it will go and plants his seed in her bowels, filling her rectum to the brim with thick, sticky ropes of his white, hot cum. Hermione sees stars, experiencing a second explosive climax from the sensation of him cumming inside of her, even if it is the wrong hole.

By the time she's recovered, he's pulled out of her ass and she's very nearly collapsed to the floor, only the vanity keeping her on her feet at this point. As he steps away, the door to the room opens seemingly of its own accord. Molly Weasley steps in at the same moment that he leaves and helps Hermione back to her seat.

For the next half hour, the Weasley Matriarch tends to her and puts the finishing touches on getting her ready for the Wedding Ceremony. She and Molly don't talk about what just happened, and Hermione is honestly okay with that. In the end, Hermione walks down the aisle with Lord Potter's cum leaking out of her ass. She's still full of his seed, even as she saws her vows to Ron, barely meaning them if that.

Part of her is a little disappointed, actually. That can't… that can't really be the end of it, right? Would it be better if it was? Or does she wish Lord Potter would do more? Hermione isn't sure what she wants. But as she's soon to discover, it doesn't matter in the end.


"Mrs. Granger-Weasley."

"L-Lord Potter."

As she stutters to a stop just inside of her and Ron's bedchambers, Hermione can't even begin to decipher the veritable gamut of emotions she's experiencing right now. There, waiting for them both in the bedroom, is Lord Harry James Potter himself, of course. His intentions are obvious, especially to a brilliant young woman like Hermione, but even as she realizes what's about to happen, she's not sure how to feel about it.

On the one hand, this is the man who just hours before, anally deflowered her in her wedding dress right before her wedding. It's also the man who made her cum twice over the course of that butt fucking. Meanwhile, her new husband, Ronald Weasley… has been acting like a prat all day long. Hermione would be lying if she said she was looking forward to what she had THOUGHT was coming next… and she had been lying, all day long in fact.

She'd lied when she'd given their wedding vows, she'd liked throughout the reception with every fake smile on her face. And she'd lied when Ron had asked her if she was ready to get out of there and head to bed. She rather thought she was good at lying… but now, face to face with the one man who'd seen some of her truth naught but a few hours before, Hermione is left floundering.

"Harry, mate!"

It doesn't help that Ron sounds downright jovial. Fortunately, the look that Lord Potter shoots him is one that cannot be misconstrued, even by a moron such as Ronald. The red head quickly backs off, though he's still smiling a carefree grin as he gives his patron a deep bow.

"Lord Potter, I mean, of course. Good to see you again, sir."

And then he looks to Hermione, furrowing his brow.

"Mione? What's wrong? I thought mum sat you down and told you all about this already."

A wan smile spreads across Hermione's face, and she shrugs her shoulders helplessly.

"I-I guess that I just didn't… quite understand."

"Ah, well it's super simple! Lord Potter is going to fuck you, of course! You're all his, for as long as he sees fit!"

She understood that, at this point. But hearing it from her new husband didn't make it any easier to process, truth be told. In fact, it made it worse. Harry Potter was a handsome young Lord, and she could easily get lost in those emerald eyes of his. Not only that, his cock had felt amazing, and that had just been her ass! But the whole situation was undeniably tainted by the presence of one Ronald Bilius Weasley…

"Ron. Unfortunately, you won't be able to stay and watch tonight. I have a task for you, one that only you can accomplish for me."

Hermione blinks, as Lord Potter seemingly reads her thoughts and pulls a small scroll out of nowhere. He hands it over to Ron, who takes it, going between excited and disappointed as he stares down at the scroll, at his orders.

"Ah, mate… are you sure? I was really looking forward to seeing you stick it in the mud-!"


Lord Potter's warning tone finally gets through that thickhead of Ron's, even as Hermione stares at her new husband in disbelief. Was this… was this really her life now? Was this the man she'd been foolish enough to marry? Hiding her grimace, Hermione watches as Ron bobs his head in acceptance and leaves the room without another word. Just like that, it's her and Harry Potter, on her wedding night, in the same room as her marital bed… she just wishes Lord Potter were her husband, instead of Ron.

But Hermione knows that was never in the cards. She won't delude herself otherwise. When Lord Potter walks up and places a hand on her shoulder, she knows better than to fight it, descending to her knees right then and there. As her own hands go to his pants to free his cock from its confines, he flips back her veil over her hair, smiling down at her approvingly.

"That's a good girl. You know exactly what to do, don't you?"

She really doesn't, but she at least has a pretty good idea. As soon as his cock is out and in her gloved hands, white satin rubbing along his length, Hermione opens wide and does her level best to take him into her mouth. It's not easy, by any stretch of the imagination. His dick is thick and fat and big in a way she thinks HAS to be abnormal, and her jaw is stretched to creaking just trying to accommodate his massive phallus.

Meanwhile, Harry pulls off his own leather gloves and sets them aside, before ultimately running his hands under her veil and through her curly brunette locks. Her hair had become more manageable as she'd gotten older, especially as she'd learned magic to help her take care of it. At this point, her brunette locks were one of Hermione's favorite parts about herself. Lord Potter seemed to be enjoying them too, because he was running his fingers through her hair as she slobbered up and down his knob, bobbing along his cock length with increasing enthusiasm.

She might as well enjoy herself, right? After all, she was stuck in this situation, one way or another. And Ron hadn't been remotely surly, so it wasn't like she was betraying him by liking it or anything like that. (Privately, part of Hermione wished he was more upset about Lord Potter staking his claim on her. If only so she could exult in making her childhood bully and now husband feel small and worthless in comparison to his Lord.)

"That's it, darling. Suck that cock. You're a good little cock sucker, aren't you? If I didn't know any better, I'd have a hard time believing this was your first time fellating a man."

Hermione's eyes shoot up to his face at that, because she's a little surprised to hear that he DOES know better. How does he know this is her first time sucking cock, if it apparently doesn't show in her inexperience? Grinning wickedly, the emerald-eyed Lord chuckles.

"I have quite a lot of resources at my disposal, Mrs. Granger-Weasley. I know all about you, my dear."

Well, that's… surprising. Not really worrying, though. What does it matter what he knows about her? Her situation is the same either way. Hermione doesn't have long to contemplate that, before Lord Potter suddenly tightens his grip on her hair and begins to thrust forward into her mouth like he's fucking her cunt (or ass) forcing her to deep throat his cock right then and there.

"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"

"Good girl… you can do it. I know you can handle it, my pet. I'm getting close now, and I want to see you swallow every last drop."

Lord Potter is an aggressive, domineering sort of man. But then, Hermione could have guessed that from the way he'd butt-fucked her right before her own wedding. Flushed and choking on his dick, she nevertheless does her best to please him… and a moment later, when his seed begins to spill down her throat, she does her best to swallow, she really does. It's hard though, of course. It's just her first time. She can't… she can't hope to hold it all in.

Some of his cum explodes out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth, making an utter mess of her face. When he finally pulls back, her makeup is in ruins too, not even the magical glamors she'd put on for her wedding holding up under the assault he'd visited upon her with his cock. Looking down at her, Lord Potter looks… disappointed.

"Well, I'd hoped for a bit better than that. Ah well, you'll learn."

She would, she realizes. Because even as Lord Potter takes hold of her by the hair and begins dragging her to the bed, Hermione realizes she never wants to feel that pang in her heart at his disappointment, ever again. Throwing her onto the bed, the Savior of the Wizarding World forces her onto her hands and knees. This time, he doesn't bother flipping her wedding dress up over her ass, he just rips it off altogether, showcasing a truly impressive amount of strength.

"I would have fucked you face to face if you could have swallowed, but you'll earn that later. All of you girls do, eventually. For now…"

His hands fall on her ass again, in a way that reminds her of their first encounter earlier. But this time, his cock isn't pressing into her sphincter, it's pressing into her sopping wet pussy. Hermione groans as he drills into her from behind, forcing his gargantuan length into her untested virgin pussy. He tears through her hymen without hesitation, but honestly, she's already too wet for it to hurt all that much.

As he sinks into her quite deeply, one hand goes up and grabs a fistful of her hair, dragging her head back and forcing her spine to arch. The other reaches around to the front of her half-torn wedding dress and tears it further still, this time removing her bodice so that her not-unsubstantial breasts can bounce free of their confines.

Sinking his digits into her titflesh while beginning to fuck her, Lord Harry hums, even as Hermione moans and squeals, feeling like a cock drunk whore.

"Not as big as Fleur or Angelina… but bigger than Penny, I'd say."

The comparison embarrasses and humiliates Hermione… but also turns her on. Hearing him name the other Weasley women he's had his way with the wives of the men who call him their Lord… it makes things both easier and harder for her, even as Lord Potter continues to have his way with her, taking her doggystyle like she's his newest bitch. Which is exactly what she is, at this point.

"You know, Weasleys have always been a useless lot. Or at least, that's what my dad and my grandad's journals on the subject said. They've been some of our most loyal vassals for centuries, apparently. But loyalty will only get you so far. If you want something done right, you don't trust a Weasley to do it. You can't trust them with money, you can't trust them with any venture you want to actually succeed. Whether it's an undetectable curse or just general incompetence, the entire male line is entirely worthless."

The conversational tone he's taken as he fucks her has Hermione hanging off of Lord Potter's every word. He's plowing her silly, and she can already feel one orgasm swiftly approaching… and yet, she can't tear herself away from what he's saying. Is he right? She thinks back and can't remember a single time Ron actually succeeded in anything important.

He'd fucked up his OWLS so badly that Hermione had had to tutor him day and night for their entire Seventh Year to get him to barely pass his NEWTS. She'd only done so as a courting method, to get him to realize he could marry her and grant her the legitimacy of his Pureblood status. Was Lord Potter onto something?

With a loud cry, Hermione cums, her thoughts on the matter momentarily derailed. Harry grunts as her pussy walls clench and squeeze down HARD around his thrusting cock, the domineering Lord still fucking into her, using her like his own personal fuck toy. But as soon as she's recovered, he continues on, bringing her attention back to what he's saying.

"… Except for one thing. There's one area in which male Weasleys excel, and it's why House Potter has kept them around all this time."

Blinking, Hermione gasps out the obvious question, honestly dying to know at this point.

"W-What's that?"

Chuckling, Harry leans over her, wrapping his arms around her both and mounting her properly as he gropes and squeezes her tits, fucking into her with even deeper, further-penetrating thrusts that cause her to squeak and squeal and cry out in ecstasy as he murmurs into her ear the truth about Weasley Men.

"They're very, very good at tricking and trapping beautiful, gorgeous, intelligent women into unhappy marriages of convenience and necessity."

Hermione goes wide-eyed at that. Harry, meanwhile, picks up the pace, the Magical Lord fucking her even faster. He's getting close now. He's going to knock her up, isn't he?

"Fleur Delacour needed British Citizenship to work at the Gringotts in London. So, she married Bill for it. Angelina Johnson is pure of blood but dark of skin, and you better believe our society is just as racist as it is caught up in blood purity. Meanwhile, you and Penelope Clearwater are muggleborn. Four different witches, all of you gorgeous and seemingly unattainable to your common Weasley, each in your own way. And yet, here we are."

He was right, Hermione realized. Everything he'd just said, it was the truth. And that wasn't just her third impending orgasm talking. As she tips over the edge again, as she orgasms explosively, only to feel it when she takes Harry with her this time, Hermione groans, enjoying the sensation of Lord Potter filling her womb with his cum.

She knows exactly what to say to him now too, as he pumps that hot thick load into her, pushing her from her hands and knees down onto the bed, forcing her prone and covering her body with his own. He's dominating, he's controlling, he's impossible to fight again… but there's a comfort in how he holds her down. She feels… safe in his arms, safer than she has in a long time.

Licking her dry lips, Hermione speaks as she lays there beneath him, his cock still buried in her twat, her body still trembling from her latest release.

"T-Thank you…"

Lord Harry James Potter doesn't need to ask her why she's thanking him. He's not the kind of man who ever has to ask. He just knows. And with a satisfied grin on his face, one that's audible in his voice, he answers her, chuckling all the while.

"You're very welcome, Mrs. Granger-Weasley."

Hermione smiles, and for once it's genuine. She's not so afraid of the future anymore. Not so long as Lord Potter is in charge. She knows she can leave it all in his very capable hands.


Sitting on the toilet in the Burrow's secondary bathroom, Hermione has a good cry. She's not even using the toilet, she's just getting all of her emotions out, like she's been doing since her Hogwarts days. There's nowhere else in the Burrow that she can go to cry without being found out and castigated for not being 'grateful' at her circumstances and opportunities. But really… what opportunities were there for her?

Her honeymoon with Ron, once Lord Potter had been on his way, had literally just been a series of Chudley Cannon games. Afterwards, Hermione had been eager to get to work, hoping that her position as a wife within a pureblood family would allow her to get some sort of position at the Ministry of Magic, even if it was a lowly one. She would work her way up; she knew she could do it.

But no, every interview she'd had so far had been a complete failure. Her grades hadn't mattered one bit, and now not even her marriage mattered. Ron and his family were a laughing stock to say the least, and Hermione had hitched her horse to them all the same.

And THEN… and then, when she came home and tried to complain to Molly, just hoping to commiserate with her mother-in-law and maybe get some pity… the hag had just gone on and on about the joys of babies instead! Never mind that Ron hadn't even fucked her yet! Never mind that the only babies she'd be giving birth to if she WERE pregnant from her wedding night would be Lord Potter's at this point!

In the end, retreating to the bathroom had been the best move available to her at the time. However, it was probably about time she wipe away her tears and get back out there. She might be feeling defeated, but that was no excuse not to get out there and do something about it.

Letting out an explosive sigh, the young brunette bookworm washes her hands and her face and then opens the door to the bathroom, stepping out into the hall at the exact moment that the Weasleys' lord is apparently walking by. Nearly running into Lord Potter's chest but not quite, Hermione freezes up at the sight of the wizard she'd given all of her virginities to, even as he takes one look at her and seems to know immediately that something is wrong.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Why have you been crying?"

Hearing the powerful Wizard Lord speaking to her in such a kind, concerned voice… Hermione breaks down again on the spot. She vents about her attempts to find work at the Ministry and more specifically she explains how her arch-nemesis, Daphne Greengrass, is using her Pureblood connections to make sure that Hermione can't even get a position as an assistant to an assistant.

Back in Hogwarts, her and Daphne Greengrass had always been at odds with one another. Academically, at least. It wasn't like Daphne bullied her, no, that had been all Draco Malfoy and also some from Ron as well. But Hermione and Daphne had constantly fought over who had the best grades each year… and it had always been Hermione. In her eyes, theirs was nothing more than a scholastic rivalry, not something that necessarily had to mean dislike or hatred.

But now, without a doubt, Hermione could say that Daphne Greengrass had real hatred in her heart for Hermione. She despised her, and she'd made that abundantly clear right along with making it clear that Hermione wouldn't ever work in the Ministry if Daphne had her way. As the muggleborn witch finishes explaining all of this to Lord Potter, he rolls his emerald-green eyes at her and, of all things, reaches out and boops her on the nose.

"Silly girl. Why didn't you just come to me?"

Blinking owlishly, Hermione just shakes her head in confusion and bewilderment. Once again, the Wizard Lord rolls his eyes.

"Who do you think runs the Ministry of Magic, my dear?"

"Um… the Minister? The Wizengamot?"

Eyes now twinkling, Harry Potter grins a wicked, knowing grin.

"That's what they'd like you to believe, certainly."

Realizing what he's insinuating, understanding that he's effectively offering a job, Hermione figures she knows exactly what he wants from her in order to get a position under him. So, she drops to her knees right there on the spot, pulls down her top to expose her breasts, and begins working open his robes and trousers to pull out his thick, fat cock.

She's not worried about anyone coming across them in the hallway… after all, this is the Weasleys' Lord. As a Weasley wife, it's practically her responsibility to get down on her knees and get dirty for her Lord. Of course, before Hermione can even really get started, Harry's hand is suddenly atop her head, holding her back and forcing her to look up at him as he rakes his fingers through her curly brunette locks.

Chuckling, he shakes his head.

"Come now, sweetheart. What do you REALLY want? You don't want to just be my secretary."

Staring up at him with big round eyes, Hermione bites her lower lip.

"I-I'm willing to take whatever position you're offering, Lord Potter. I'm willing to start at the bottom a-and work my way up, i-if that's what it takes."

Eyes still twinkling, Harry nods… and then grins all the wider.

"But that's not what you WANT, Hermione. And it's not what you think you deserve either. Why, with your grades you should be on the fast track, shouldn't you? It's only your muggleborn status holding you back."

"… Y-Yes. I want… I should be, you're right. I should be Daphne's boss! I should be working under the Ministry's top barrister! I should be on the fast track to eventually becoming Minister myself! That's where I belong!"

Her bared chest is heaving by the time she's done explosively claiming her right as the smartest witch of her generation. For a moment, she worries that she's gone too far, that Lord Potter is going to smack her back down for her impudence as is his right. But instead, he just grins at her some more, continuing to run his fingers through her hair. She leans into his touch, remembering just how GOOD it felt to have him fuck her. She definitely wouldn't mind experiencing that again.

"Then fix up your dress and get on your feet, my dear. Let's take a trip to the Ministry together, shall we?"

Eyes wide and lips curling into an excited smile, Hermione quickly does as she's told and follows Lord Potter to the floo. Molly sees them go, but as soon as she lays eyes on the Weasleys' Lord, the woman bows her head submissively, not even commenting on Hermione following him into the floo. After all, it was a Weasley Wife's place to serve Lord Potter.


"Undersecretary Malfoy! I require your time, so go ahead and cancel the rest of the days meetings!"

As Hermione follows Lord Potter into the office of Narcissa Malfoy, Undersecretary of Personnel, she blinks at his commanding tone, wondering if his arrogance and confidence will really extend even here. To her mild surprise, Narcissa Malfoy doesn't even hesitate to bow her head and acquiesce to his demands.

"O-Of course, Lord Potter."

As she begins making the necessary arrangements, arrangements that require her to stand from her desk and move away from her chair, Lord Potter circles around and sits himself down where she'd just been sat, taking over her office without even a second's hesitation. At the same time, he calls out to the older woman.

"Oh, and Daphne Greengrass is working under you these days, right? Call her in here as well. Once she arrives, we can get started."

Narcissa pauses at that, but ultimately bows her head and gets to work. Hermione can only sit down in one of the guest chairs, perched on the edge of the seat and watching with wide eyes as Lord Potter just… gets his way. Just like that. She also spends a lot of time jealous of Narcissa Malfoy's good looks. As frazzled and flustered as she looks right now, she's also downright gorgeous despite having a son Hermione's age.

That was just the way the wizarding world worked though, apparently. The way magic worked. You could still let yourself go of course, could still end up overweight and downright ugly as a result… Molly Weasley was a prime example of how a witch could let herself go. But so long as you took basic care of yourself and used some simple spells, the magic within you would maintain your youthfulness for far longer than a muggle could expect to hold back the ravages of age.

Narcissa Malfoy is a prime example of this… though from what Hermione can see, the stress of her husband getting sent to Azkaban and Narcissa herself having to work for the first time in her entire life is slowly starting to get to her if the barely-emergent stress lines on her otherwise pristine face are any indication.

Regardless, soon enough everything is as Lord Potter had demanded it. Narcissa Malfoy has cancelled the days appointments, and Daphne Greengrass has been called in. The Undersecretary of Personnel stands beside Lord Potter as he sits behind her desk in her chair, while Daphne sits in the other chair right next to Hermione, shooting her a furious glare before directing a confused look in the direction of the Undersecretary and Lord Potter.

"Do you know who I am, Ms. Greengrass?"

Blinking, Daphne looks between her boss and him for a moment before answering him, only to immediately pivot to addressing Narcissa.

"You're Lord Potter. Lady Malfoy, if this is about rejecting Mrs. Granger-Weasley's application, I can assure you-!"

With a single raised hand, Lord Potter silences Daphne. Literally silences her, the wandless magic causing her to cut off mid-sentence as her eyes widen and she brings her hands up to her moving but silent mouth in surprise.

"Be quiet, Ms. Greengrass. You would do well to address the Undersecretary by her title rather than by something she no longer holds any claim to. After all, there is no Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy for Narcissa to be Lady of anymore. The Malfoy family's claim to nobility and thus their Wizengamot seats were dissolved. Isn't that right, Undersecretary?"

"… Yes, Lord Potter."

It begins to dawn on Hermione just what's happening here and judging from the way Daphne slumps back in her seat in silent shock, it's dawning on her academic rival as well. Standing up, Lord Potter disrobes and begins working on his trousers, deftly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants as he pushes the chair back and steps up behind Narcissa.

"Hands on the desk, Undersecretary. I think these two young witches need an… education in how things work around here."

Flustered as all hell, looking angry but nevertheless submissive, a red-faced Narcissa Malfoy plants her hands palm down on the desk. She lets out a whimper when Lord Potter grabs her by her hips and yanks her back towards him. She gasps when he vanishes her clothing, leaving her entirely naked before both Hermione Daphne. And then… and then she groans.

Hermione can't actually SEE what's happening with her own eyes because of where she's sat, but she has a pretty good idea of what's going on as Narcissa claws at her desk, her face… contorting. It's the same exact expression Hermione saw on her own face that day in the mirror, when Lord Potter had spread her ass cheeks nice and wide and proceeded to take her anal virginity.

He's clearly thrusting up into the Pureblood MILF's ass right now, the way Narcissa's eyes are crossing and her seeks are sucking in and her lips are puckering is all the evidence Hermione needs of that. As he sinks into her bowels, Lord Potter begins to fuck the Undersecretary from behind, plowing into her ass with short thrusts at first, but rapidly going longer and deeper as he fucks her harder and faster by the moment.

His hand eventually comes down on her back, forcing Narcissa forward, bending her over her own desk. As he takes her anally in a standing doggystyle, with her moans serving as background noise at this point, filling the room, the Wizard Lord looks at both Hermione and Daphne, a wicked grin on his face and an ever-present twinkle in his intense emerald green eyes.

"You see, Hermione… Pureblood Wizards are weak. It's the inbreeding. Thousands of years of inbreeding to keep their blood 'pure' has only led to a weakening of their magic. You need to add something fresh to the pool every now and then if you want to see real power. There's a reason my father married my mother, a muggleborn witch who was also the most brilliant student of HER generation. There's also a reason Voldemort was so strong as well. It's because he was once Tom Marvolo Riddle… a Half-Blood."

Judging from the way Daphne jolts in shock beside her, the other young witch hadn't known that. Hermione certainly hadn't. And yet, the way Narcissa simply presses her lips firmly together and hangs her head in shame as she continues to get butt fucked while bent over her own desk by Lord Potter makes it abundantly obvious that SHE knew it.


Delivering a harsh spanking to Narcissa's ass that causes a cry to spill forth from the Undersecretary's lips, Lord Potter's grin turns positively savage.

"This one's husband and son both allowed a Half-Blood to brand them like chattel. The only reason Draco Malfoy doesn't rot in Azkaban right alongside his father is because Narcissa here begged me, another Half-Blood, to spare him, to save him from the Dark Lord's grip. So I will reiterate… Pureblood Wizards are weak. Always have been. And Pureblood Witches… are well aware of that fact."

Reaching forward, the green-eyed Wizard Lord grabs Narcissa by her hair, yanking her head back, forcing her to look at Hermione and Daphne as the two younger witches gaze upon her, neither of them able to tear themselves away. As he fucks her harder and harder, more of the Pureblood MILF's voice leaks out in groans and gasps, in moans and mewls.

Eventually, she's shrieking and squealing and even obviously orgasming from having Lord Potter's cock plundering her anus. All the while, he continues to talk over her quite easily, not even having to shout, his voice somehow reaching both of them in spite of Narcissa's volume all the same.

"Narcissa Malfoy owes me everything. As does much of the Wizarding World. But even if she didn't, she would still be bent over with my cock up her ass like the good little sub she is. You know why that is, Hermione?"

Shaking her head, completely frazzled herself even though she's not the one getting butt fucked, Hermione flushes in embarrassment as she finds herself unable to answer his question. But Lord Potter doesn't hold it against her, grinning quite wickedly.

"It's because the vast majority of Pureblood Witches want to be dominated. They need it. When a powerful magical specimen comes along, their instinct is to submit, even as their upbringing tells them that you and I are dirty, filthy mudbloods. They think because my mother was a muggleborn that I have dirty blood. They think that because you're a muggleborn, you can't amount to anything. But at the same time, deep down inside, they know that we're the future."

Narcissa still isn't trying to argue his points. And Daphne is still magically silenced. A glance over at her scholastic rival shows that the other witch is frozen in her chair, wide-eyed and bright red in the face as she watches Lord Potter fuck her boss hard and fast. From the way Daphne is reacting… c-could he be right? Could the Wizard Lord be telling the truth?

… Even if he isn't, the balance of power is quite clear. And Hermione, always the go-getter, knows immediately what she has to do. Standing up, she vanishes her own bottoms and then conjures a massive, thick, magical strap-on dildo around her waist. The fake cock that results from her conjuration might as well be a real one for how lifelike it is. While it's clearly attached to her by the harness, it's thick and veiny and almost alive as it throbs and pulsates.

… It's based off of her experience with Harry's cock, to be honest, and that real world experience makes all the difference. She doesn't have to rely on her imagination here, she remembers every last inch of that big fat dick that Lord Potter had plowed her silly with on her wedding night. And judging by the way Narcissa's eyes light up in recognition, the Undersecretary recognizes his cock as well, even attached as it is to the crotch of a muggleborn witch.

Stepping up, Hermione grabs the Pureblood MILF by her hair. Bent over the desk as she is, clinging to it with all her heart, Narcissa's head is at perfect height for another cock to spit-roast her from the front. So that's exactly what Hermione does. She rubs her fake conjured cock into Narcissa Malfoy's face until the Pureblood eventually opens wide, gasping one moment and choking on the faux dick the next.

"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"

Emboldened by the lack of… well, anyone stopping her, Hermione grins wickedly and keeps on going, thrusting forward into Narcissa's throat harder and faster, even as Lord Potter continues to fuck the hapless, defenseless woman from behind. Seeing this, listening to Narcissa choke on the conjured dick, the Wizard Lord currently anally plundering her laughs uproariously.

"That's the trick, Hermione! Show her who's boss! Give it to her!"

Hermione does exactly that. In the background, she's tangentially aware of Lord Potter letting out a loud groan as he releases his first load into Narcissa's ass and then immediately transitions into fucking her cunt, keeping the spit-roast they have her caught in the middle of going. But ultimately, much of Hermione's focus is on the MILF herself.

This is the mother of one of Hermione's chief tormentors throughout her time at Hogwarts. She'd married Ron, having no other choice in spite of his bullying of her, but ultimately, Draco Malfoy was the boy who'd truly had it out for her. Every single year, he'd found a way to make her life living hell. He'd jinx her in between classes and then pretend it wasn't him, he'd ruin her classwork and force her to redo it all over again in an attempt to bring her grades down. It never worked, of course, but it had led to more than a few sleepless nights as Hermione had laid in bed crying, wondering if it was all worth it.

That was something she'd been wondering over the course of her honeymoon recently as well. As Ron had focused more on his worthless Quidditch Team of losers rather than on her, Hermione had despaired. When Daphne had made it clear that she'd never find work at the Ministry, Hermione had seriously considered just throwing in the towel. What giving up would look like for the muggleborn witch, she honestly didn't know.

But now… now, here she was, fucking the mother of her greatest bully's face while Lord Potter plowed her cunt from behind. She was spit-roasting the Undersecretary of Personnel in the middle of her office mere hours after one of her underlings tried to reject Hermione's application simply because she was muggleborn.

In that moment, Hermione understands the truth. It doesn't matter if Lord Potter is right about Pureblood Witches loving being dominated by strong wizards such as himself. What matters is that he can get away with whatever the fuck he wants within their system. They did everything in their power to push muggleborns down but look at what Lily Evans-Potter had accomplished by marrying into the Potter Family, by giving birth to such a magically gifted, powerhouse of a Half-Blood Son.

Lord Potter was the future of the wizarding world, like it or not. He was the Man-Who-Won, and even if Narcissa didn't enjoy getting spit-roasted in her office by him and Hermione, she would be an utter FOOL to go against him. After all, as he'd said, she owed him EVERYTHING.

Fucking into Narcissa's face with her conjured living dildo harder and faster, Hermione groans, getting off on the sheer audacity of the entire exchange. And as she orgasms explosively simply from the schadenfreude of fucking her bully's mother in front of her academic rival, the conjured strap-on dildo reacts to her ecstasy by cumming. The seed that spills out of the magical fake cock isn't real, of course, but it's certainly got enough substance to it for Narcissa to choke and gag in surprise as it suddenly floods her throat.

Exploding out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth, the magical but ultimately inert fake cum makes an utter MESS of Narcissa Malfoy, making the Pureblood MILF look even more foolish then before. As Lord Potter sees what Hermione has done, he lets out a loud groan of his own and proceeds to fill Narcissa's cunt with his seed directly, just as he did her bowels.

The two of them pull out of the spit-roasted Undersecretary at the same time, with Lord Potter tapping out his cock's last few spurts of cum onto Narcissa's pale ass before tucking his member back into his trousers and zipping up. Recognizing that he's done for now, Hermione quickly begins to clean and dress herself again as well, using magic to do so even as the Wizard Lord hums for a moment in thought.

"… Hermione will be taking the open position under your sister Andromeda, Undersecretary Malfoy. I'm sure the Ministry's top lawyer will be all too happy to train a muggleborn witch in her craft, given who she married."

"O-Of course, my Lord…"

From the way Daphne lunges forward in her seat at THAT but not anything else, Hermione can guess that the silenced Pureblood witch was hoping for the position herself instead. Of course, Lord Potter pins Greengrass with a gaze that keeps Daphne from fully coming out of her seat, and ultimately she backs down, flinching away and lowering her eyes to the ground in submission… just like he'd said she would.

"As for you, Ms. Greengrass… I'll be seeing you sometime soon about your behavior regarding Hermione here. We'll have to see if we can… adjust that attitude of yours. Brilliance should be respected and welcomed at the Ministry of Magic… never shunned."

As he steps away from Narcissa finally, walking around the desk, Hermione tosses Daphne a victorious and altogether vicious smirk before happily and eager following him out. Lord Potter has done so much for her, and honestly, while he might have fucked Undersecretary Malfoy silly back there, for Hermione it had been nothing but foreplay. She could only hope that was just a warm up.

When he takes her back through the floo, her greatest hope turns out to be true, because they don't return to the Burrow. Instead, they end up in what can only be Potter Manor. Hurrying after him, not wanting to get left behind, Hermione finds herself drawn to a bathroom with a large hot tub in the middle of it, reminiscent of the Prefect's Bath back at Hogwarts, but even more opulent, even more wealthy.

As he strips down and enters the bath, Hermione gleefully does the same. She's all too eager to show her Lord her appreciation. He deserves every last bit of it for what he's done for her so far.

As she descends into the back and his hands come down on her body, Lord Potter smirks at her, those gorgeous emerald green eyes of his twinkling even now.

"I do hope you're satisfied with the day's results, my dear."

Husky and lusty in tone, Hermione dips her head demurely as she smiles coyly.

"More than satisfied, my Lord. Now allow me to show you just how happy you've made me. Allow me to make you just as happy in turn~"

Lord Potter just chuckles and leans back, allowing her to express her appreciation most vehemently, well into the night. Hermione isn't worried about Ron wondering where she is. She knows Molly will tell him that she had to leave on business with Lord Potter. So long as its him, Ron will understand. He has no choice in the matter. He was weak, just like Lord Potter had said. All Pureblood Wizards were weak. And the Weasleys were clearly some of the weakest of all.


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