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regasssaTitle: Polyjuice, polyjuice, polyjuice
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco/Hermione
Fest: Erotic Elves - The HP Random Kink Challenge - Het Edition
Prompt: Sex doll
Warnings: Threesome, het, graphic slash, polyjuice, prositution, alternate universe (Harry and Hermione are a couple), consensual adultery, abuse of innocent furniture
Summary: Harry and Hermione's relationship is lacking excitement.
A/N: For Inell, because she put me up to it.
Shudder.
That was the third damn time today he'd felt it; like someone was walking over his grave. It was distracting, for Merlin's sake, especially with all this sodding paperwork to catch up on. Oh, being an Auror had sounded like great fun, but nobody had warned him about the godawful piles of paperwork he'd have to deal with once he got the job. Frustrated, Harry stood up, dusting off the pile of memos that had fallen unread into his lap over the past hour, and went over toward the door, glancing out to see whether his secretary was there or not.
Hermione would kill him for slipping out like this; she always told him to take his job seriously because one day they'd need that kind of stability. When she talked about stability, Harry always suspected that she meant 'children', which generally made him slip out of the conversation pretty fast. Harry was sure he'd be a brilliant father, he just didn't know whether he wanted to be one yet.
At the end of the corridor, Harry had to duck out of the way of a man carrying a stack of files -- not that he'd have seen him anyway, the invisibility cloak saw to that. Or rather, didn't see. Or something. The lift, however, was more tricky to get into without drawing attention to himself. In the end he had to wait until someone was getting out to get in, so that it was completely empty on the ride up. That way nobody could walk into him and rumble the entire operation.
He had to admit it was fun. Even ten years later, sneaking out under his invisibility cloak still felt like he was at Hogwarts avoiding Snape or Umbridge. It was a thrill that his job and his life sorely lacked recently. Work was dull -- there were no bad guys to fight -- and sex with Hermione wasn't that much better. It wasn't his fault, it was hers. When Harry wanted to experiment, Hermione would protest, and they'd go back to the vanilla sex and moan and sigh and then shower before they went to bed.
It was all so...frustrating. Harry wanted uncomfortable positions, revealing places...toys! He wanted to wake up in the morning after hours of foreplay covered in sweat and chocolate and wonder how his pants got on top of the lampshade.
Harry sighed, relieved when he got out of the visitor's entrance without raising any eyebrows. Muggle London was much more exciting after spending a whole day stuck in his office. At the end of the little side road he was on buses and cars rattled past and Harry found himself drawn toward the busy street. He would walk -- maybe head as far as the park and watch the black swans for a bit.
Just as he passed the second telephone box, the person inside stepped back against the door, the sudden movement giving Harry the shock of his life. Whoever it was just stood there, leant back against the wood frame, visible through the panels of glass. This wasn't particularly weird of itself; but the hands closed around the blond man's buttocks -- and it was an attractive bottom -- definitely did not belong to him.
Blushing, Harry was just about to step away when the other person in the phone box stood up. Bushy hair tousled from whatever she'd been doing, Hermione looked over at him and smiled, then looked back to the blond. A shocked Draco Malfoy turned around, paled, and then stabbed at the buttons in front of him.
Harry got to the door before Draco managed to spell 'magic' quite right, holding it open and staring in at them. "So this is it, is it?" He could feel his temper rising. His wife was cheating on him. On him. "The reason you're rubbish in bed with me is because you're too tired from fucking Malfoy all day? And you!" He glared at Draco. "So much for all your bloody purer-than-thou bullshit!"
"Potter, it's not what you think."
"Not what I think?" Harry said, letting the door bump closed against his ankles. "How's it not what I think?" He pushed Draco hard up against the wall, leaning down into his personal space.
Which was when Hermione poked him on the shoulder, and he span around to glare at her.
Only it wasn't Hermione.
"You owe me three galleons," said the woman, who actually had gleaming pink hair and a sickly kind of smile. Only now could Harry see that her clothes weren't quite work robes...unless you counted prostitution as work. It was a prostitute -- a prostitute who had been wearing Hermione's skin like some depraved sex toy for Draco's pleasure.
Harry stared, and Draco coughed loudly, before saying "I didn't come."
"That's not my fault," said the woman, "Unless you'd rather I finished off for you? Just move over out of the way please, Auror Potter, I'll be done with him in a minute."
"No way," Harry said, stepping between the two of them again. "Get out of that door before I decide to prosecute you for something!"
The woman left, but as Draco tried to leave too, Harry shoved him back against the door again, narrowing his eyes as Draco's erection pressed into his hip. Draco moaned, which was just wrong.
Time passed. After a minute or so, Draco said "Either arrest me or fuck me, Potter, but get on with it."
"Fuck you? Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because you want it," Draco answered, shifting his hips slightly, so that Harry was made all the more aware of his erection. "Otherwise you'd have let me go. Isn't it exciting."
"No," Harry protested, but Draco was right. It was exciting. It was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips, and then Draco kissed them bruisingly hard, knocking Harry back against the opposite wall of the telephone booth, knocked off balance by the shock. Blood blossomed in his mouth as teeth grazed carelessly across his bottom lip, and now it was Harry's turn to moan.
When he got some semblance of control back, Harry pushed Draco into the phone, sending it flying off the hook carelessly, and said "Stop stop stop! Tell me what I just saw!" And oddly, he was more horrified by the fact that Malfoy was sleeping with polyjuiced sex doll versions of his wife than the fact that they'd just been kissing each other.
"Everyone's doing it, Potter," Draco said. "Why, a single 'Potter' hair will make six doses of pure gold polyjuice potion. They're very valuable."
Suddenly Harry understood why his secretary was always underneath his desk 'tidying up' when he came in from field assignments. "Oh," he said, dumbly, imagining hundreds of women settling down with their boyfriends for a bit of 'role play'. "Oh hell."
"Had to get Granger's myself, of course. But I've had you a few times on special request."
And now he had to imagine himself going down on Draco in telephone booths. And not just Draco...anyone who could pay for the priviledge.
"I'll just be going now..." Draco purred, sliding casually out of Harry's grip and pushing at the door. Harry pulled it closed again, a thought coming to mind.
"I could forget about this," he said. "But I...I need something from you."
"I don't do blow jobs, Potter..."
"No," Harry snapped, turning a bright shade of Gryffindor red. "No, I want you to er...come to dinner."
Draco looked at him suspiciously. "To dinner?"
- * - * - * -
"Well that was lovely, wasn't it, Harry?" Hermione was sitting nervously on the edge of her seat, and Kreacher was fussing around clearing up the table until they were left with just wine glasses in the dim light.
"Make yourself scarce for the evening, Kreacher," Harry suggested under his breath, before glancing up at his wife with an "Er, yes darling."
"Yes darling?" Draco scoffed, sitting up slightly. "Oh yes, Potter, you have a serious problem..."
Hermione stood up, looking outraged. "I will not be talked to that way in my own house!"
"Relax, Mione," Harry said, standing up too. "He doesn't mean it that way."
"What way do I mean it?" Draco asked, lazily.
Harry scowled, then went over to Hermione, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "I asked Draco to come because...um...I figured we ought to try...that is..."
"A threesome," Draco interjected, tired of Harry's dancing around the word. "He wants to try to liven up your sex life, and quite frankly, I don't blame him."
Hermione seemed to slowly expand, and for a moment Harry desperately hoped that she was going to keep expanding like his aunt. She didn't. Instead, she opened her mouth and let it all begin to pour out of her. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry Potter?! You can't seriously expect me..."
Draco had to raise his voice to interfere. "If you don't do something about it, Granger, then you won't have a relationship left to salvage. A few more minutes and your husband would have cheated on you. He certainly kissed like he was thinking about it."
Harry swallowed as Hermione's laserbeam glare swivelled back to him from Draco. "You kissed him? Malfoy?"
"Er..." Harry said, but couldn't quite think of anything to say in his defence. "We were kind of in a phone box together," he started -- but it didn't come out quite right.
"A phone box?"
"Yeah..." Harry said.
"He caught me in there with my prostitute," Draco drawled. "You really shouldn't let the hairdressers keep your hair, Granger...it's rife with consequences."
Hermione went very pink, but also, graciously, very silent, while Draco took advantage of this new reprieve to cross to Harry, wasting no time in pushing one hand into his dress trousers. Harry jumped, but Draco's other arm snaked around his shoulders and held him in place. "Got tired of talking. Granger can do what she likes, but you and me..."
Harry tripped clumbsily over Draco's foot, the hand slipping out of his trousers as he fell. He was relieved and excited to find himself swivelled back over the dining table with the blond between his legs, pushing down with his hips and his hands to hold him in place.
When two more hands appeared around Draco, one reaching down towards his groin, the other pinning down one of Harry's wrists, he couldn't admit to the sensations that overcame him. They included a certain amount of trepidation, but that was overwhelmed by the tidal surge of anticipation that roared to life inside of him.
After a few moments of heady pleasure, Draco moved, letting Hermione slip between them. The table was uncomfortable, even more so after Draco hoiked him the rest of the way up over it, but Harry's discomfort melted away as Hermione climbed onto his lap, reaching down to unbutton his shirt. She was smiling, her skin pink, her lips ever so slightly open as she breathed, and Draco's hands snaked underneath her arms, working at the buttons of her shirt. It was a horrific and yet arousing spectacle; someone else undressing his wife in front of his very eyes, and Harry groaned, dropping his head back and watching, submitting as Hermione got his shirt off and spread her fingers across his chest.
"You're going to love the next bit, Potter," came Draco's voice, but Harry couldn't see him behind Hermione. A moment later Harry felt his trousers yanked out from underneath him, stopped from going off the table with them by the weight of Hermione above him. He was surprised when she laughed.
"Maybe we should have done this sooner," Hermione said, smiling.
"Fuck Malfoy?"
"Not necessarily. But this...I mean...it's the dining room table, Harry, it's not exactly hygienic."
"Dentists," Harry scoffed, but forgot about what they'd been saying promptly when Draco's wand went into him.
"What the h-hell are you d-doing?!" Harry gasped, struggling to get out from under Hermione to see what the hell Malfoy was up to and stop him. Hermione turned too, and then covered her mouth, turning back to Harry without a word.
Whatever the hell Draco was doing, it felt weird...and sort of nice. But only sort of. Harry twisted uncomfortably, and Hermione tilted her hips back, grinding against his erection through her skirt and making him almost forget the unwelcome intrustion.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, but that was about all he could manage. She laughed again and began to pull up her skirt, letting it fall around her and over Harry's thighs as she moved back.
"Granger, do you mind?" Draco asked, one of his hands coming up from between Harry's legs to push a swathe of blue skirt out of the way. "I can't see what I'm doing."
Harry groaned, laying back again as Hermione rocked against him. She was naked under the skirt, Harry realised, although when she'd taken off her underwear he didn't know -- logically it must have been before she'd even got up on the table. If she'd ever been wearing any. Harry shuddered, reaching up to stroke her cheek, then moving both hands to her shoulders, then down to her breasts. Hermione didn't bat him away impatiently like she usually did, she let him admire her, exploring her with his fingertips and just smiled, in a cat with the cream kind of way.
Draco's wand slipped out of him and something bigger bumped against him, almost all in the same moment. Harry breathed in sharply, aware of a kernal of fear that coiled inside of him but did not have time to flourish as Draco said "Now, Granger."
Hermione sank down on him, encapsulating him completely, just as Draco pushed his erection all the way into him. It went surprisingly easily and if Harry had felt particularly sentient at that moment he might have been the slightest bit impressed at how they all fit together so well. Instead, the sensation overwhelmed him, wringing a strangled cry from his throat that made Hermione and Draco both laugh, jiggling inside and outside and over and under him in such a wonderful way that for a good few seconds Harry wasn't entirely sure he'd see straight again, even with his glasses.
They didn't give him any time to recover, both of them beginning to move like pistons in the same engine, driving towards the same goal. Harry was undone. He flailed with his hands, clutched Draco's arse when he found it and pulled him closer. And Draco's hands...Draco's hands were on his wife's chest, massaging at her breasts. It was depraved. It was twisted. It was the best damn sex he'd ever had.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco/Hermione
Fest: Erotic Elves - The HP Random Kink Challenge - Het Edition
Prompt: Sex doll
Warnings: Threesome, het, graphic slash, polyjuice, prositution, alternate universe (Harry and Hermione are a couple), consensual adultery, abuse of innocent furniture
Summary: Harry and Hermione's relationship is lacking excitement.
A/N: For Inell, because she put me up to it.
Shudder.
That was the third damn time today he'd felt it; like someone was walking over his grave. It was distracting, for Merlin's sake, especially with all this sodding paperwork to catch up on. Oh, being an Auror had sounded like great fun, but nobody had warned him about the godawful piles of paperwork he'd have to deal with once he got the job. Frustrated, Harry stood up, dusting off the pile of memos that had fallen unread into his lap over the past hour, and went over toward the door, glancing out to see whether his secretary was there or not.
Hermione would kill him for slipping out like this; she always told him to take his job seriously because one day they'd need that kind of stability. When she talked about stability, Harry always suspected that she meant 'children', which generally made him slip out of the conversation pretty fast. Harry was sure he'd be a brilliant father, he just didn't know whether he wanted to be one yet.
At the end of the corridor, Harry had to duck out of the way of a man carrying a stack of files -- not that he'd have seen him anyway, the invisibility cloak saw to that. Or rather, didn't see. Or something. The lift, however, was more tricky to get into without drawing attention to himself. In the end he had to wait until someone was getting out to get in, so that it was completely empty on the ride up. That way nobody could walk into him and rumble the entire operation.
He had to admit it was fun. Even ten years later, sneaking out under his invisibility cloak still felt like he was at Hogwarts avoiding Snape or Umbridge. It was a thrill that his job and his life sorely lacked recently. Work was dull -- there were no bad guys to fight -- and sex with Hermione wasn't that much better. It wasn't his fault, it was hers. When Harry wanted to experiment, Hermione would protest, and they'd go back to the vanilla sex and moan and sigh and then shower before they went to bed.
It was all so...frustrating. Harry wanted uncomfortable positions, revealing places...toys! He wanted to wake up in the morning after hours of foreplay covered in sweat and chocolate and wonder how his pants got on top of the lampshade.
Harry sighed, relieved when he got out of the visitor's entrance without raising any eyebrows. Muggle London was much more exciting after spending a whole day stuck in his office. At the end of the little side road he was on buses and cars rattled past and Harry found himself drawn toward the busy street. He would walk -- maybe head as far as the park and watch the black swans for a bit.
Just as he passed the second telephone box, the person inside stepped back against the door, the sudden movement giving Harry the shock of his life. Whoever it was just stood there, leant back against the wood frame, visible through the panels of glass. This wasn't particularly weird of itself; but the hands closed around the blond man's buttocks -- and it was an attractive bottom -- definitely did not belong to him.
Blushing, Harry was just about to step away when the other person in the phone box stood up. Bushy hair tousled from whatever she'd been doing, Hermione looked over at him and smiled, then looked back to the blond. A shocked Draco Malfoy turned around, paled, and then stabbed at the buttons in front of him.
Harry got to the door before Draco managed to spell 'magic' quite right, holding it open and staring in at them. "So this is it, is it?" He could feel his temper rising. His wife was cheating on him. On him. "The reason you're rubbish in bed with me is because you're too tired from fucking Malfoy all day? And you!" He glared at Draco. "So much for all your bloody purer-than-thou bullshit!"
"Potter, it's not what you think."
"Not what I think?" Harry said, letting the door bump closed against his ankles. "How's it not what I think?" He pushed Draco hard up against the wall, leaning down into his personal space.
Which was when Hermione poked him on the shoulder, and he span around to glare at her.
Only it wasn't Hermione.
"You owe me three galleons," said the woman, who actually had gleaming pink hair and a sickly kind of smile. Only now could Harry see that her clothes weren't quite work robes...unless you counted prostitution as work. It was a prostitute -- a prostitute who had been wearing Hermione's skin like some depraved sex toy for Draco's pleasure.
Harry stared, and Draco coughed loudly, before saying "I didn't come."
"That's not my fault," said the woman, "Unless you'd rather I finished off for you? Just move over out of the way please, Auror Potter, I'll be done with him in a minute."
"No way," Harry said, stepping between the two of them again. "Get out of that door before I decide to prosecute you for something!"
The woman left, but as Draco tried to leave too, Harry shoved him back against the door again, narrowing his eyes as Draco's erection pressed into his hip. Draco moaned, which was just wrong.
Time passed. After a minute or so, Draco said "Either arrest me or fuck me, Potter, but get on with it."
"Fuck you? Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because you want it," Draco answered, shifting his hips slightly, so that Harry was made all the more aware of his erection. "Otherwise you'd have let me go. Isn't it exciting."
"No," Harry protested, but Draco was right. It was exciting. It was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips, and then Draco kissed them bruisingly hard, knocking Harry back against the opposite wall of the telephone booth, knocked off balance by the shock. Blood blossomed in his mouth as teeth grazed carelessly across his bottom lip, and now it was Harry's turn to moan.
When he got some semblance of control back, Harry pushed Draco into the phone, sending it flying off the hook carelessly, and said "Stop stop stop! Tell me what I just saw!" And oddly, he was more horrified by the fact that Malfoy was sleeping with polyjuiced sex doll versions of his wife than the fact that they'd just been kissing each other.
"Everyone's doing it, Potter," Draco said. "Why, a single 'Potter' hair will make six doses of pure gold polyjuice potion. They're very valuable."
Suddenly Harry understood why his secretary was always underneath his desk 'tidying up' when he came in from field assignments. "Oh," he said, dumbly, imagining hundreds of women settling down with their boyfriends for a bit of 'role play'. "Oh hell."
"Had to get Granger's myself, of course. But I've had you a few times on special request."
And now he had to imagine himself going down on Draco in telephone booths. And not just Draco...anyone who could pay for the priviledge.
"I'll just be going now..." Draco purred, sliding casually out of Harry's grip and pushing at the door. Harry pulled it closed again, a thought coming to mind.
"I could forget about this," he said. "But I...I need something from you."
"I don't do blow jobs, Potter..."
"No," Harry snapped, turning a bright shade of Gryffindor red. "No, I want you to er...come to dinner."
Draco looked at him suspiciously. "To dinner?"
- * - * - * -
"Well that was lovely, wasn't it, Harry?" Hermione was sitting nervously on the edge of her seat, and Kreacher was fussing around clearing up the table until they were left with just wine glasses in the dim light.
"Make yourself scarce for the evening, Kreacher," Harry suggested under his breath, before glancing up at his wife with an "Er, yes darling."
"Yes darling?" Draco scoffed, sitting up slightly. "Oh yes, Potter, you have a serious problem..."
Hermione stood up, looking outraged. "I will not be talked to that way in my own house!"
"Relax, Mione," Harry said, standing up too. "He doesn't mean it that way."
"What way do I mean it?" Draco asked, lazily.
Harry scowled, then went over to Hermione, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "I asked Draco to come because...um...I figured we ought to try...that is..."
"A threesome," Draco interjected, tired of Harry's dancing around the word. "He wants to try to liven up your sex life, and quite frankly, I don't blame him."
Hermione seemed to slowly expand, and for a moment Harry desperately hoped that she was going to keep expanding like his aunt. She didn't. Instead, she opened her mouth and let it all begin to pour out of her. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry Potter?! You can't seriously expect me..."
Draco had to raise his voice to interfere. "If you don't do something about it, Granger, then you won't have a relationship left to salvage. A few more minutes and your husband would have cheated on you. He certainly kissed like he was thinking about it."
Harry swallowed as Hermione's laserbeam glare swivelled back to him from Draco. "You kissed him? Malfoy?"
"Er..." Harry said, but couldn't quite think of anything to say in his defence. "We were kind of in a phone box together," he started -- but it didn't come out quite right.
"A phone box?"
"Yeah..." Harry said.
"He caught me in there with my prostitute," Draco drawled. "You really shouldn't let the hairdressers keep your hair, Granger...it's rife with consequences."
Hermione went very pink, but also, graciously, very silent, while Draco took advantage of this new reprieve to cross to Harry, wasting no time in pushing one hand into his dress trousers. Harry jumped, but Draco's other arm snaked around his shoulders and held him in place. "Got tired of talking. Granger can do what she likes, but you and me..."
Harry tripped clumbsily over Draco's foot, the hand slipping out of his trousers as he fell. He was relieved and excited to find himself swivelled back over the dining table with the blond between his legs, pushing down with his hips and his hands to hold him in place.
When two more hands appeared around Draco, one reaching down towards his groin, the other pinning down one of Harry's wrists, he couldn't admit to the sensations that overcame him. They included a certain amount of trepidation, but that was overwhelmed by the tidal surge of anticipation that roared to life inside of him.
After a few moments of heady pleasure, Draco moved, letting Hermione slip between them. The table was uncomfortable, even more so after Draco hoiked him the rest of the way up over it, but Harry's discomfort melted away as Hermione climbed onto his lap, reaching down to unbutton his shirt. She was smiling, her skin pink, her lips ever so slightly open as she breathed, and Draco's hands snaked underneath her arms, working at the buttons of her shirt. It was a horrific and yet arousing spectacle; someone else undressing his wife in front of his very eyes, and Harry groaned, dropping his head back and watching, submitting as Hermione got his shirt off and spread her fingers across his chest.
"You're going to love the next bit, Potter," came Draco's voice, but Harry couldn't see him behind Hermione. A moment later Harry felt his trousers yanked out from underneath him, stopped from going off the table with them by the weight of Hermione above him. He was surprised when she laughed.
"Maybe we should have done this sooner," Hermione said, smiling.
"Fuck Malfoy?"
"Not necessarily. But this...I mean...it's the dining room table, Harry, it's not exactly hygienic."
"Dentists," Harry scoffed, but forgot about what they'd been saying promptly when Draco's wand went into him.
"What the h-hell are you d-doing?!" Harry gasped, struggling to get out from under Hermione to see what the hell Malfoy was up to and stop him. Hermione turned too, and then covered her mouth, turning back to Harry without a word.
Whatever the hell Draco was doing, it felt weird...and sort of nice. But only sort of. Harry twisted uncomfortably, and Hermione tilted her hips back, grinding against his erection through her skirt and making him almost forget the unwelcome intrustion.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, but that was about all he could manage. She laughed again and began to pull up her skirt, letting it fall around her and over Harry's thighs as she moved back.
"Granger, do you mind?" Draco asked, one of his hands coming up from between Harry's legs to push a swathe of blue skirt out of the way. "I can't see what I'm doing."
Harry groaned, laying back again as Hermione rocked against him. She was naked under the skirt, Harry realised, although when she'd taken off her underwear he didn't know -- logically it must have been before she'd even got up on the table. If she'd ever been wearing any. Harry shuddered, reaching up to stroke her cheek, then moving both hands to her shoulders, then down to her breasts. Hermione didn't bat him away impatiently like she usually did, she let him admire her, exploring her with his fingertips and just smiled, in a cat with the cream kind of way.
Draco's wand slipped out of him and something bigger bumped against him, almost all in the same moment. Harry breathed in sharply, aware of a kernal of fear that coiled inside of him but did not have time to flourish as Draco said "Now, Granger."
Hermione sank down on him, encapsulating him completely, just as Draco pushed his erection all the way into him. It went surprisingly easily and if Harry had felt particularly sentient at that moment he might have been the slightest bit impressed at how they all fit together so well. Instead, the sensation overwhelmed him, wringing a strangled cry from his throat that made Hermione and Draco both laugh, jiggling inside and outside and over and under him in such a wonderful way that for a good few seconds Harry wasn't entirely sure he'd see straight again, even with his glasses.
They didn't give him any time to recover, both of them beginning to move like pistons in the same engine, driving towards the same goal. Harry was undone. He flailed with his hands, clutched Draco's arse when he found it and pulled him closer. And Draco's hands...Draco's hands were on his wife's chest, massaging at her breasts. It was depraved. It was twisted. It was the best damn sex he'd ever had.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 10:39 pm (UTC)Though my Hermione says that she is much too adventurous to be considered 'dull', thank you very much. Hmph.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-30 12:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-01 06:30 pm (UTC)I always wonder when I read Polyjuice fics - did its various uses ever cross JKR's mind? =)