Chapter Text
Consciousness hovered around her like mist and yet when she tried to reach out and grab it, it slipped through her fingers. Warmth enveloped her, the familiar scents of her Lords swirling and cascading around her; freshly mown grass, spearmint, and parchment. Dreams danced behind her eyelids as she was swaddled in a downy comforter, silken sheets welcoming her into their abyss. Their voices drifted through her dreams, chasing away the masked faces that hunted her.
“Who were they?” Theo questioned Harry, his voice tight, as if it were struggling to slip through clenched teeth.
“Dean, Neville, and Seamus,” Harry replied, “but they were under the Imperius Curse…not that it will save them from waking up very broken and bruised,” he added in an unforgiving tone.
“Did you look through their memories? See if there was any -”
Draco’s question was cut short as Harry interrupted:
“No trace - whoever cast the curse must have Obliviated them as well.”
“Fuck,” Draco let out an exasperated exhale.
Hermione sank deeper into her oblivion, their voices drowned out by her own subconscious. At some point she roused enough to realize that the house had grown quiet, and then sleep claimed her again.
Theo stroked his thumb over a bead of condensation that was threatening to trail down the side of his drink. The first glass of Firewhisky had burned as it went down, as had the second, but the third? The third soothed the splintered edges of his anger, quieted the murderous thoughts about Otto into a dull roar, and numbed the shame over how he’d treated his Lady over their tiny spat. He sat in an armchair in the darkness of her room, listening to her breathing, enjoying the peaceful rise and fall of her chest under the covers.
Normally it was Draco that watched her sleep - he’d done it for years, sneaking into her dormitory at Hogwarts. Theo hadn’t really understood the appeal. She was just sleeping for Salazar’s sake, how attractive could it be? Now, as his eyes traced over the curve of her parted lips, the way her hair fanned across her pillow, the subtle shift of her body as she changed positions, he understood. There was a softness to her in sleep. A surrender. An innocence that begged to be claimed.
Moonlight bled into the room, soaking her bed with its celestial light. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed. Theo placed the now empty glass on her vanity and moved to stand beside her bed. How many times had Draco done this? Watched her dream. Shared her air. Had he wanted to reach out to touch her as Theo desperately wanted to? To trace his fingertips across her cheek? To follow the curve of her shoulder down her arm? To thumb the nipples that were peaked under her silk shift? Theo knew he must have; the temptation was too great.
He toed his shoes off quietly before removing his clothes and lifting the covers enough to slide beneath them. Hermione remained motionless in the bed as he moved towards her until his body was flush against hers. She was soft and warm, and he nearly groaned as he ran his hand down over her hip. Had Draco ever done this ? Had he ever pushed his fingers between her thighs to seek out the warm wetness that pooled between them?
Theo’s breathing was growing ragged and he struggled to keep it quiet. He didn’t want to wake her. Maybe it was wrong of him to seek her out in this vulnerable state. Maybe it was invasive. Maybe he didn’t care - no, he definitely didn’t care. Why shouldn’t he indulge in her? From the blush spreading across her cheeks and the soft moan that escaped her, she was enjoying his exploration (or was it exploitation?) of her body.
His thumb brushed her clit and she arched into him, her breasts pressing against his bare skin as he leaned forward to place a soft kiss at her shoulder. He curled his fingers inside of her and she whimpered softly, her brows furrowing slightly. Theo’s precum dripped down the head of his cock, leaving a silken trail of desire across her thighs as it bobbed over them.
He gripped the base, pushing the tip against her wet folds, brushing it between them until it was coated in their mutual desire. He knew Draco must not have done this - if he had, there was no way he would have been able to prevent himself from driving his cock inside of her as Theo now did. Her virginity would have been long gone. That, or Draco possessed a level of restraint inaccessible to Theo.
She moaned softly as Theo slid inside of her, the head of his cock pushing past her tight inner muscles until he was seated fully. Fuck, it was almost better than the numbing spell they’d used earlier. She could wake at any moment; the threat of it only aroused him more. How much could he do while she was sleeping? How fast could he move? How hard could he fuck her before her pleasure hurtled her into consciousness? Could he bring her to orgasm without waking her? Were such things possible? Could he take his pleasure in her body while she slept on, only subconsciously aware of him? Could he claim her with his cum deep inside of her and drift off to sleep that way, his cock plugging her up so that not even a drop was waisted as she warmed his cock all night?
He rocked his hips gently as these thoughts barreled into him, consuming him, his desire ratcheting to new heights. She was so beautiful in the moonlight, taking his cock like a perfect little Lady, pleasuring him even as she slept. Salazar save him. The feel of her, his cock gliding smoothly inside of her, her muscles clenching involuntarily around him. He wanted to devour her. He wanted to destroy her. He wanted to worship her. He just didn’t know which he wanted more. He rolled over her gently so that he could piston himself deeper into her, her breasts swaying softly in time with his thrusts. He bent over one and pulled her nipple into his mouth and she moaned again.
“There’s my good girl,” he praised in a reverent whisper, “taking my cock so good in your sleep, letting me use you as my perfect little cum slut. You were made for taking my cock,” he moaned against her skin, leaving a trail of kisses up her throat. He accredited the rounds of vigorous, beastial sex with the three of them earlier for her ability to sleep through his ministrations.
“My perfect little fuck doll, made just for me to dump my cum into,” he continued on, hardly noticing what he was saying.
He pressed his thumb against her clit, brushing it up and down in time with each thrust of his hips. Hermione’s breathing had grown as ragged as his own, but still she did not wake.
“Fucking dirty girl, moaning for me in your sleep, practically begging for me to fill you up,” Theo growled into the night.
She lay limply beneath him, and he almost wished Draco and Harry were here to join him, each of them using her in their own wake to take their pleasure. One of them slotted behind her, claiming her tight bum, the other above her, shoving their cock deep into her throat as her slobber dripped onto the sheets below them and she choked on their cum. Fuck, the thought of it was nearly enough to tip him over the edge and send his cum spilling out inside of her. Then he was thinking of how much he wanted to watch Draco or Harry use his cum as lube as they pushed into her next, until all three of them had fucked her as she lay unconscious beneath them.
The soft murmur of “please,” that fell from her lips as she shifted beneath him, dreaming of being fucked had him biting his knuckles to keep from waking her with his groan.
“Fucking begging for it,” he moaned again, “always knew you would make a perfect cum slut, the perfect Lady, fucking perfect is what you are,” he rambled as he fucked her harder, her body rocking beneath him.
He was past the point of caring if he woke her up. There was a humming in his ears, a sort of low buzzing that was ratcheting into a high keening sound that reverberated inside his skull as he chased his pleasure. When she clenched painfully around him, a moan tearing past her lips as she came, it felt as if lightning shot down his spine and then his cum was spilling out inside of her with abandon as his balls pulled tight and his cock pulsed and pleasure made his vision go white. He slid most of his weight off her, though he was neither willing nor able to remove his cock from her perfect cunt, and then he was tumbling into sleep beside her.
Hermione woke well rested, sunlight pooling into her room and warming her skin. The bed was empty, though a newly familiar slickness coated her inner thighs and dripped from her cunt. She smiled to herself, wondering which of the Lords had used her in her sleep. The thought sent a thrill through her. She dressed in a burgundy skirt and a white blouse, smiling to herself as she knew it would remind them of her costume from the night before. Briefly, she wondered if she should feel ashamed or embarrassed of the ways they’d claimed her last night but found the memories only made her desperate for more. Perhaps she was equally as depraved as they were.
She noticed Harry first as she stepped into the kitchen, and memories of the way he’d hunted her - and of the way he’d hunted her would be captors - flashing through her mind and leaving her hot and flustered. He smirked at her blush, as if he could sense her thoughts. It was the smirk that did it…or maybe it was the way she’d woken up wishing one of their cocks was inside of her…either way, she blamed her lust addled mind as she walked over to him and straddled him without a glance towards Theo and Draco. Harry’s smirk deepened and then she was pulling his mouth to hers as she kissed him at the breakfast table.
Harry’s hands were at her waist in an instant, skating over skirt and shoving it up so that Draco and Theo would be able to see she hadn’t worn knickers beneath it.
“Salazar,” one of them breathed in a low growl behind her, but Hermione was too absorbed to notice it beyond an additional tendril of desire.
She ground against Harry, her hand slipping between them to free his straining cock from his trousers.
“Feisty this morning, isn’t she?” Theo whispered towards Draco.
The sound of a zipper opening was the only response.
Harry’s hand covered hers and then he was helping to guide himself inside of her and they groaned in unison as she sank onto him. Harry nuzzled into her neck, and she gasped when she felt fangs scrape over her skin before puncturing it as he bit down. She groaned, tilting her head to give him better access, her blood dripping down the front of her shirt and staining it. Theo tugged at her chin, turning her head enough for him to slot his lips against hers, his tongue dipping inside of her mouth. She moaned, and Harry gripped her waist tightly, grinding her against him as he pistoned himself in and out of her.
“If you don’t want to be late, I suggest you hurry up and make your Lord cum,” Draco said lazily from behind her.
Hermione reached behind herself, her hands trailing up Harry’s thigh and dipping down towards his balls, until she was able to cup and massage them. Harry moaned, fucking her harder, until his cum was shooting inside of her. She broke away from Theo as she climbed off Harry and smoothed her skirt before turning towards Draco. He watched her with a predatory gaze, his hand working his own cock in a confident manner.
“He’s not the Lord I was referring to,” Draco said coolly.
Hermione smirked, striding towards Draco and making a move to straddle him as well. Draco stopped her.
“Ah ah ah,” he chastised, leaning close to whisper in her ear, “drink Daddy’s milk like a good little girl,” he commanded.
Theo pulled at her hips, forcing her to climb awkwardly onto the bench as she tugged Draco’s cock into her mouth, lapping at the precum that had already accumulated. She flicked her tongue over his frenulum just as Theo dragged his cock through Theo’s cum that had begun to drip out of her, before sliding inside of her.
She shouldn’t like it as much as she did, she knew, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to care. Draco was pistoning his hips and driving his cock into her mouth just as Harry had done inside her cunt moments before, and she focused on his moans and grunts of pleasure as she choked on his cock. Theo fucked her from behind, Harry’s cum the perfect lubricant.
It would have been a perfect morning were it not for the Howler that appeared, dropped onto the table by an unfamiliar owl that swooped in and out of the kitchen before the action registered.
“Now, let it be war upon you all,” a disjointed voice growled, the Howler tearing itself into shreds that transfigured into pictures of Harry buried inside of her at the breakfast table, of her mouth around Draco’s cock as Theo pushed inside of her from behind; pictures from inside the house, pictures of them at that moment , Otto’s familiar handwriting covering the images with the word whore written over and over in blood red ink that still dripped from the photographs.