One, however-
Eleanor Nott.
You hadn't seen her since the Quidditch game. She didn't seem to notice you, yet. For the sake of your ability to pay attention in class, you felt that it may be prudent to stay that way.
Few students had actually sat down yet, which thankfully left you a generous pick of the desks. You grabbed the one closest to the front, while putting a crowd of students between you and the other.
You had nothing against the other girl; you just preferred to keep transfiguration as non-lewd as possible.
Getting comfortable, you had just begun getting your things out, when Professor McGonagall, followed by Isolde Flamel, whom you had heard that name before, came back into the classroom. Isolde seemed oddly contrite as she followed.
The Professor stopped at her front desk and turned her gaze to the class. Immediately, her eyes sharpened.
"Nott! Crabb! Goyle! What do you three think you're doing!" She asked, voice carrying across the room. You tried to turn and see what was going on, but the rows of students between you and the back of the classroom blocked your view. You could, however, hear the response.
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall. We were just helping her out- "
"Well, if that is your idea of help, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind some remedial lessons on 'helping' from Filch, tonight. Detention."
Some grumbling was heard, but none dared talk back. McGonagall seemed pleased with the reaction.
"Now sit down. Crabb, Goyle, opposite ends. Nott-" Her eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat. You suddenly became very aware that the one beside you, the aisle seat, was empty. It became very clear to you what was about to happen.
"-Come up here and sit next to Mr. Granger."
There wasn't a response, beyond light shuffling, and then a shadow was cast over you.
.
----------------->
.
"Heya, Herman." She said, looking down at you as a trail of drool ran from her mouth. You wanted to cry.
Whatever happened to a normal class!
"Hello, Eleanor." You answered, a calm smile on your face as you held your mask tight.
The girl shuddered at the use of her name before squeaking happily.
"Sit down, Nott," McGonagall ordered again.
She did so, trapping you between the window and her. She scooted in close enough that your legs touched. Her focus was much more on you than the lecture.
Despite your best efforts, your eye twitched.
The lesson, apparently, was going to be a little bit different today. According to what you heard last class, you were originally supposed to be learning how to transform cloth into hide, and back again.
Today, though, it seemed that the plan had changed, as Professor McGonagall stepped to the front of the room, Isolde close behind her; she had a put-upon look on her face.
"Good afternoon, class, normally, I would have you all pull out your notes, and we would review our discussion last class on the feasibility of gerbils, and we would explore the historical use of them during the second goblin war- " There was the sound of a throat clearing behind her. The Transfiguration professor sighed, taking a single second to look towards the ceiling as if asking the powers that be why she was the one to have to deal with this.
"-but there has been a change in plans." She continued, returning to her serious expression. "Instead, we will be focusing on the art of human transfiguration."
Her words set off a storm of whispers in the classroom. You were similarly awed, just a bit. You hadn't been scheduled to work on human transfiguration until later in the year.
The professor let the gossiping go on for a little while longer, generally, before calling you all back to order.
"This class will be focused on teaching you the theory of human transfiguration." Her stern eyes moved across the crowd. "You are not to try and use any of this until I direct you to, and only in classroom environments. If I have to come rushing to a dormitory at ungodly hours because one of you has turned your dormmate into a newt, you will be serving detention with me for the rest of the year."
The threat, delivered in her usual tone, had all of you straightening. From any other teacher, this may sound like hyperbole, but anyone who has been in class with the Transfiguration professor knew that McGonagall didn't make empty threats.
Two girls who'd been fighting took her promise to put them over her knee if they didn't behave for granted, and swiftly found themselves embarrassed in front of the entire class.
Happy that her words had been sufficiently taken in, she nodded before turning to the blackboard. A flick of her wand had it spinning, chalk floating up and writing on it of their own accord.
"You may have noticed, we have a guest." She said. "I will let her introduce herself." McGonagall shot the other a look that clearly was some mix of Behave and Please no.
Isolde didn't seem to notice as she stepped to the front of the class. You couldn't see her mouth, but her eyes were crinkled in such a way that you could tell she was smiling. It didn't feel like a nice smile either.
"Greetings, ye useless and most pitiable excuses for wizards. It hath become woefully apparent that the standards of this modern age have altogether failed, inasmuch as they have bred forth so worthless and degenerate a generation. Youth hath grown slothful and corrupted, knowing naught of the true nature of toil, discipline, and grit. This day shall I go amongst thee, one by one, and render unto thee such assistance as may make thee marginally less worthless."
Her eyes seemed to shine with a malicious light.
"Prepare yourselves for my arrival, worms."
Several students shivered, and McGonagall looked like she wanted to put her head in her hands.
The class started from there, and McGonagall began on a long and interesting lecture on the intricacies of human transfiguration. You wrote down every word, as she mentioned the differing severity of living vs no living objects, along with those vs muggles, and then versus wizards.
It was quite an interesting topic. And something you intended to question her further on.
But then-
You jumped a little.
There was a hand on your thigh.
It was slowly, ever so slowly, sliding up.
You couldn't help but breathe out through your nose, sighing. Of course.
You turned to your side, expecting to see her try to at least pretend like she wasn't touching you.
.
----------------->
.
She was staring right at you, unashamedly, feeling you up as she did.
"Hey." She whispered.
You met her eyes for just a bit longer, feeling, among other things, altogether done with this entire school.
You just wanted to sit through a single class and take notes in peace, dammit.
…
Ok, so maybe it didn't happen every class, but it certainly felt like it sometimes. It was almost episodic in nature.
What was your life, some type of shitty smut story?
She didn't seem to be taking the hint to move along, if the way her hand had now reached your inner thigh said anything.
"Hey." You deadpanned, staring her down.
She smiled widely in response, and you swore you saw a flash of pink run across her lips.
This was getting almost cartoonish. There was no way anyone was this horny.
She still didn't stop, and even though your quill hand was still moving, taking notes as Professor McGonagall spoke, you didn't appreciate the fact that the only thing that seemed to keep her from full-on molesting you was the fact that you were staring her down.
The sound of chalk being lifted once again, and something being written on the board, told you that your professor was putting up another diagram. You'd need to look away.
Damn.
"If I let you do this, will you at least let me take notes in peace?" You asked, finally. It wasn't worth the situation it would cause.
At your question, the girl gave a few eager nods, smiling widely. You sighed before turning away.
The hand on your thigh quickly went back to work, feeling up and down your leg, even as you tried your best to just ignore it.
Professor McGonagall was now talking again, this time reminding you all of the basics of transfiguration.
"-orcing a magical object-field to accept a new pattern of identity, structure, and function. Rather than creating matter from nothing, the caster temporarily destabilizes the target's existing form and overlays it with an imposed magical template. The more precise the caster's intent, the more stable the transformation, because magic must reconcile the target's original material state with the newly defined one." She paused, taking a breath.
"Human transfiguration is both different and the same from this. All steps remain, however, at the same time you are also now battling against the target's own identity, structure, and magic." She walked towards the other side of the room, where the professor kept a collection of various materials for experimentation.
"It is for this reason that human transfiguration is not often used in combat; if you target resists the spell, even for a moment, it leaves you vulnerable yourself. True use of transfiguration whilst defending oneself, as you will likely learn in your Defense classes, comes from using the environment instead." As she said this, a single flick of her wand had a wooden practice dummy twist into a swarm of birds, which followed her direction, sloshing into a stream of water, which landed with a splash, turning into a lion, which roared, then leapt back into the form of the dummy.
The display was sufficient that it had most of the students in the room in awe.
"Any questions?" She asked, smiling merrily.
Many hands shot up, including your own, and McGonagall took only a few before directing you all to your own individual work.
"I, or Ms. Flamel, will be over to discuss your questions and assignments with you. We will also allow you to practice the spell. If we do not get to you in this class, please keep your papers with you, and I will discuss them with you next time. You will only practice the spell with one of us present."
You would have kept your hand in the air, intent on asking a bit about the homework that had been assigned las class, and whether she had a chance to read your essay yet, but before you could get your hand in the air fully, you sucked in a quick intake of breath, as a cool, soft hand slipped under your waist band, into your pants and underwear entirely.
Turning, you gave her a scathing look, resolving to forever deny the squeak that had escaped you as she quickly, literally, openly fondled you in a crowded classroom.
She smiled back, shivering as she felt along your length.
"Mmph, just as long as I remember." She giggled, shivering as her thighs pressed together.
"Do you mind?" You couldn't help but hiss. It didn't seem to affect her much.
"You said I could." She chimed, happily. Her hand withdraws regardless, slipping out of your pants, and you watch in disgust as she sniffed it, her eyes rolling a bit.
At least she seemed to be done. You turned back to your notes, intent on double-checking your work, before practicing the wand movements, when-
Zip
You felt your pants come undone, fly unzipped, as Eleanor swiftly, with a skill you didn't think possible to develop, slipped your naked cock out of your underwear, when she began, of all things, slowly stroking it under the desk.
This had gone far enough. You turned towards her, intent on telling her off, when.
"Dost thou attend unto thy labors, thou perverse wretch, or dost thou choose instead to idle away thy time in foolish gossip beside an innocent and pure maiden, steeping thyself in sloth?" Isolde Flamel said, from in front of the desk.
You were, in that moment, immensely grateful for the fact that the desk covered your legs, whilst being incredibly regretful that you didn't just decide to skip today.
At the very least, Eleanor seemed to freeze a bit at her sudden appearance as well. At being called an innocent maiden, however…
"Snrk." She covered her mouth with her free hand, her other having frozen around your shaft.
Isolde didn't seem to notice her amusement, the majority of the woman's attention, and ire, directed at you.
Was she still holding a grudge over what happened in the hall?
…
Was that something you could ask about?
Whilst you were lost in your thoughts, without any fanfare, and even though there was a teacher or otherwise related individual directly in front of the two of you, Eleanor Nott seemed to grow impatient. In long, slow strokes, she restarted her work on your cock.
Your frustration seemed to boil over, just a bit, and you reacted.
Ignoring your hardening length, your hand came down, wrapping itself around her wrist, freezing her hand in place.
At the same time, you met Isoldes' eyes, trying to figure out what to say.
-x-X-x-
Isolde Flamel was of the opinion that life was just better during the fourteenth century.
People understood what really mattered back then. The value of tradition and why it exists.
Life was just better. There was no whining about blood purity or politics or people who were annoyed that you had just shat yourself and hadn't the time to vanish it yet.
Then, unfortunately, time passed, and so did the proper way of life that she had taken for granted.
With each passing generation, they seemed to move further and further away from the golden time. Now it seemed that everyone was more interested in talking about their feelings and equality.
It made her want to scoff.
No, Flamel knew what life was supposed to be like. The good old days, when you just had to grab any wizard you wanted off the street and break him like you did a wild horse.
Nowadays, everyone was whiny, animals and vermin were in their halls and handling their money, the peasantry was being allowed to learn with the nobles, and the nobles were droll idiots with misguided ideas about their place in the world.
Especially the men.
Oh, how Isolde despised the men of this era. Their attitudes. Their idiocies.
She longed for the old days, truly, back when her graceful and appreciated attempts at flirting, i.e., surprise apparition into her bedroom from their own, used to be the height of romance.
She had high hopes for Dumbledore, for a while.
He seemed powerful enough and submissive in a way that reminded her of the good old days.
But then, of course, it was revealed that he and Grindewald had a thing going on, the two of them being gay of all things.
A supreme mugwump, homosexual!
She was surprised that magic didn't strike him down then and there. She stayed far away from him after that. She didn't want to catch it as some of her friends had.
At least she'd found a promising colleague in the form of Minerva.
A respectable pureblood woman, from a long, established lineage. A good conversationalist. Skilled in magic.
That was someone she was willing to spend her life with.
And Minerva was having the same trouble she had; she couldn't find a man she was happy with.
Or at least, that's what Isolde had gathered from the fact that her friend only ever seemed to hang around other women, and rejected any and all offers she'd received for marriage or otherwise.
Truly, Minerva was a high-class and refined woman. Exclusive.
It made her happy to be friends with her, and she'd even offered to gift the woman some elixir from her stone, to help keep her longer.
She hadn't responded, so she came in person to chat with her.
Then, of course, she'd run into one of the little mud-blooded brats her friend had to deal with.
Isolde couldn't help but sneer down at the boy as he sat at the desk. A type of sadistic pleasure welled inside her at the thought of at least getting to teach one boy his place in this modern age.
Maybe he'd even thank her for it, later in life.
-x-X-x-
You couldn't help but feel that this might be a little bit of an overreaction.
It had, after all, been an accident. Despite all accounts, you hadn't meant to go face-first into the other woman's chest. It had just, well, happened.
Surely she wouldn't punish you for that?
"You. Boy. Stand thou up here." Isolde said, a grim smile on her face. You felt just a bit nervous as you stood, although you were, at the very least, relieved you wouldn't have to deal with Eleanor feeling you up anymore.
Shaft stiff and painful in your pants, you stood, and hoped that she didn't notice it. You had a feeling that having a hard-on in front of the teacher who already thought you were a pervert might not be the winning play.
You stood, coming around the desk to her side. You kept your distance, out of respect, and ideally to avoid any, well, 'happy accidents' from happening like before.
No use in giving her more ammunition to use against you, all things considered.
Instead, you stood carefully off to the side, watching as the assistant professor withdrew her wand before turning to Eleanor.
...
It was somewhat petty to think, but you were somewhat thankful when she gave the pureblooded girl a look with the same amount of disgust you saw in her eyes for you. At least you weren't being singled out.
Better to have a teacher who hates everyone than one who hates you specifically.
"Watch now, and mark it well. I shall explain unto thee the spell with which thou shalt be working, as well as its proper functions."
She didn't withdraw a wand, but instead brandished her staff.
A single flick, and the quill on the table next to Nott expanded into a much larger version, moving from a dove feather to one the size of a peacock's.
"That is the spell as it is used upon non-living matter. Now—" She turned to you, staff clicking as she closed the distance you had made. "—upon living matter, it is somewhat more finicky. Yet, with sufficient skill, one may enlarge or diminish the parts of others as well."
Suddenly, you were feeling very nervous.
"Professor Flamel," you began, respectfully. "I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this."
A woman you knew did not like you, casting magic you didn't know that affected your body?
Even with McGonagall there, it wasn't exactly a thought that filled you with enthusiasm.
She waved a dismissive hand.
"Hogwash. Play not the coward now. I had thought the men of this age did boast themselves brave." As she spoke, she raised her staff.
You had a split second to consider what, exactly, you wanted to do here.
Your wand, which you'd slipped into your hand behind your back, felt warm. Reactive.
The options before you were clear, and your wand, the wooden one, felt ready to assist in either.
Either you could try and direct the initial spell, changing the target. It wasn't something you were very practiced at doing, but Flitwick had demonstrated it in class.
Or, you could try to catch and deflect it, a more complicated maneuver. You also wouldn't have long to choose who to send it to.
These sorts of spells were like homing missiles, after all. They needed a target to function.
-x-X-x-
For the record, you felt that it was, or at least, should be, a common response, for when someone starts casting unknown magic at you without your full consent, when you weren't ready, to try and send it back at them.
Natural selection, really, or maybe publicly enforced politeness.
The tall woman tapped her staff to the ground once, then twice. Without speaking the spell at all, another sign that she was likely not exactly interested in actually teaching at the moment.
The blue light flared before darting towards you. It seemed impossibly fast, but your wand pulsed in your hand, and you drew the curved piece of ivory forward, movement assisted by some force not your own.
A quick hand and understanding of the spell. That was what Flitwick said was required to deflect magic.
You had one of those; hopefully, you could wing the other. She did, Afterall, say that it was a version of the spell you'd already used to adjust the size of inanimate objects.
Breathing deeply, even as the light flew towards you, you brought your wand forward, tip glowing. The quick hand first.
You had to judge where the spell was going. Thankfully, with the bright light, it made it somewhat less angled.
It was heading… towards your crotch.
If things weren't moving so fast, you would have spared an unimpressed look for the older woman.
Really, someone her age, going for a low blow.
Whatever she was trying to do, you weren't very interested in letting it land.
Flick~
A quick movement, more of the wrist than the arm, had you catch the blue light, gathering it along the sharp endpoint of your wand.
You muttered under your breath, the spell coming to you as you did. You could feel the magic struggling, already expended and looking for a target. You could even feel the intent.
To shrink.
… Really?
Was this really an adult you were dealing with?
Irritation growing, you found a resolve in you as well.
If she was going to act like you were such a senseless pervert, why not give her a taste of what that actually meant?
You twitched your hand, the spell flying back towards the woman. She blinked and began moving to intercept. It was too late, though, and the blue light splashed against her chest, sinking into the exposed skin there.
A moment of silence, the rest of the room didn't seem to notice what had happened.
Her eye twitched.
"What hast thou done?" She asked, quietly.
Nott, off to the side, was watching, heaving, swinging from you to the teacher and back again, looking like she was more engaged than you'd ever seen her in anything aside from sex.
You smiled guilelessly.
"I was just trying something Professor Flitwick taught us. I wasn't sure it would work, though. Do you want to try again?"
Her eyes twitched, and while you couldn't see her mouth, you would see that it was screwed into a tight frown.
"What. Hast. Thou. Done?" She enunciated clearly, not believing your act for a second.
"I have no idea." You answered.
She took another step, staff coming up threateningly, when-
RIIIIIIP!
.
-------------->
.
Her pale breasts sprang out from their confines, suddenly nearly doubling in size, and jumping out of her top in a bid for freedom. Her nipples were on full display, as her clothing tore to accommodate their new size.
Step interrupted by the sudden change in weight, Isolde flailed for a moment, falling, her momentum bringing her forward onto you again.
You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, as her newly enlarged breasts hugged your face once again, your vision turning to darkness, as the two of you went to the floor.
Silence spread across the classroom, slowly, as others noticed.
Quick footsteps could be heard.
"Isolde, what are you doing to Mr. Granger!" Came the worried and confused voice of Professor McGonagall.
The other was silent, only for a moment, before replying.
"Seeking to suffocate him," she answered at last, sounding dead inside.
Well, she was certainly better equipped to do so now.
Frankly, you felt that what you were about to do next was the most logical option available to you.
After all, there was no practical way you were getting out of this unscathed. Not with Isolde hating you, and with the current situation.
If you were going to get detention, then by God, it was going to be by something that you did do. Not for something that was an accident.
Thankfully, you were in a position to take full, well, 'advantage', of the circumstances.
Isolde's decision not to move from atop you, likely soaking in her own shame and embarrassment as well, gave you ample opportunity to get a feel for just how much larger her assets had become. Given that you had prior experience just today as well, you were relatively certain that she had gone up at least two cup sizes.
They were now just big enough to fully cover your face and mouth. In fact, it was actually somewhat difficult to breathe with how effectively she was smothering you.
…
Well, maybe she was actually trying to suffocate you.
Either way, this also meant that, with her breasts escaping from her top, her nipples were poking into your cheeks, not quite hard yet, but definitely present.
Which meant that you had your targets.
"Isolde, stop joking around and remove yourself from Mr. Granger this instant! The poor boy doesn't deserve this- Whatever this is!" McGonagall asked, sounding more flustered than you'd ever heard the stern woman sound before.
The woman on top of you shifted, and her hands planted themselves on either side of your head as she groaned.
"Thou art sorely mistaken there, MinerVA—!" Whatever she had been about to say, likely some slander, if you were to guess, you struck.
Mainly by, just as she was starting to lift herself off you, catching one of her nipples in your mouth, and giving it a swift but firm nibble, pinching the nub between your teeth. The effect had been more pronounced than you'd expected, the woman yelping, and her arms giving out from under her, dropping her breasts back onto your face, only this time her nipples were pressed into your mouth.
Feeling bold, or perhaps deliriously stupid, you decided to push your advantage, mainly by taking both nipples into your mouth and sucking as hard as you could.
You'd read somewhere that newly transfigured body parts tended to be somewhat more sensitive to touch after they'd been changed. It'd been noted in a rather violent historic retelling of the Chinese Wizarding World, and some of the torture methods used on a woman who stole men from other witches.
Here, the other end of the spectrum of sensation was happening, if the noise that escaped her was any indication. She shuddered against you, now lying prone, your limbs tangled together. You froze, even as she shakily pushed herself up again. On all fours, she met your eyes, high collar somewhat askew, but eyes heated, confused, and angry.
"Everything good, Professor?" You asked with your best innocent smile. She glared, but before she could answer, a strong pair of hands took the other by the shoulders and pulled her off you, before helping you to your feet. McGonagall had evidently had enough of just waiting around.
"Stand up, Mr. Granger. Are you quite alright?" She asked worriedly. You nodded, adding a bit of shake to your movements.
"Y-yeah, just a bit shaken up."
Her eyes softened.
"Go sit down, Granger. If you need anything, let me know."
You went to walk away when-
"You."
You turned around.
.
--------------->
.
Isolde did not look happy.
-x-X-x-
Well, it was time to fall back on your old standby.
AKA, act as oblivious as possible, and let your natural aura of innocent bookworm do its work.
Walking back to your seat and sitting down next to Eleanor, who looked incredibly entertained with the entire situation, you turned back to the professor and tilted your head in such a way that you heard over half of the female population in the classroom sigh. Even McGonagall softened slightly at the display.
This was a move you'd cooked up over the years that always worked on putting more people at ease.
For Isolde, who knew exactly what had just happened, it only served to irritate her further, if the way her hands clenched was anything to go by.
"Professor Isolde, is everything alright?" You asked, affecting a look of concern. "I know the fall might have rattled you, but I did my best to keep you from hitting the ground at all."
She stepped forward, one arm covering her now much larger breasts, while the other was white-knuckled around her staff. Her outfit, which had previously barely managed to contain her chest, was now ripped through. She'd need to repair or change it to cover up properly again.
Frankly, it was an easy fix thanks to magic. You could do it, given a bit of time. You wondered why she didn't.
May as well ask. And try to irritate her a bit more in the process.
Blushing, you glanced down, purposefully, but in a way that didn't make it obvious, before blushing and looking away. This coincidentally meant that you were looking directly at Eleanor Nott.
.
------------->
.
The look on her face said everything, but, opening her mouth, she evidently had more to say.
I saw that~ she mouthed, smiling all the way. The words were hidden from view by a hand as she spoke.
"If possible, could you cover up, Ms. Isolde. I'm not quite…. Comfortable, with that sort of thing."
There was angry noise, not unlike a bird choking. It served to cover Nott's own loud snort relatively well.
Fast steps behind you, you turned to look.
.
----------->
.
She was standing over you now, having managed something, evidently, with her clothing to cover up somewhat. You still had quite the view of underboob, and despite her fearsome glare, you couldn't help but appreciate the generous amount of tit-flesh offered to you.
You looked away quickly to keep up the illusion.
"C-Could you please step away?"
She hissed.
"You…. You think you can get away with what you did."
Another head tilt.
"Did what? You just fell on top of me and shoved your br-brests- chest. You fell onto me and shoved your chest in my face when I tried to catch you."
That seemed to only serve to infuriate her more.
"Why, you little mudblood-"
"ISOLDE FLAMEL!"
You perked up, in spite of the angry cry of McGonagall.
"Oh! Flamel, like Nicholas Flamel?"
That seemed to be the last straw.
"My name is not Nicholas!" A sore spot, evidently. She raised her staff, as if to strike you, when-
Zlorp!
.
------------->
.
She tumbled to the ground, McGonagall standing behind her, wand raised, with a troubled look on her face.
Isolde was also naked and tied up in somewhat provocative knots. You made a note to learn that spell.
"Class, you will do free study for the rest of the period. If any of you leave the room for anything outside an emergency, it will be detention. I need to go let Dumbledore know that we have a guest who needs to be reminded about the standards here at Hogwarts."
Another flick of her wand, and the bound figure floated up. Breasts hanging. You wanted to ask why she was naked, but had a feeling you wouldn't get a good answer. The students watched as she left, but her eyes never left yours.
The burning blue swore revenge of the highest caliber. You had a feeling you'd made an enemy today.
At least it was funny.
-x-X-x-
You left the classroom relatively quickly and tried your best to avoid the headmaster's office after that incident.
While you didn't feel that you'd done anything too egregious, she was the one who had attempted to cast a spell on you after all, you didn't exactly want to risk meeting the Witch in the halls.
Well, you wouldn't mind seeing her again, but mostly from an aesthetic sense.
If you were entirely honest, in your heart of hearts, you felt that you had done her a favor.
A large chest looked much more fetching on her form, if you did say so yourself.
You stopped midstep in the hall, the person behind you nearly bumping into you at the abrupt motion.
How much had you changed since you came to Hogwarts?
You never would have defined a woman's attractiveness partially by her breast size before…
Well…
Maybe you would have thought it subconsciously, but never openly acknowledged it.
You couldn't help but wonder whether Hogwarts was really good for you. The constant sex and debasement, combined with magic against the natural order of things.
…
The local pastor would be horrified.
That man had been convicted of abusing choirboys, so you felt pretty good about horrifying him, actually.
The minor internal conflict was over with, and you instead continued on with your day.
With all your classes over with, you had a pretty easy day ahead of you. Lots of free time until after dinner, when you'd agreed to help Hagrid smuggle Smok out of the castle.
You weren't entirely sure you wanted her to go, but you didn't really see a good way or reason to stop her.
Something to grapple with later, though.
For now, you had determined that you would go to the library. Not something unusual for you, but this was a bit of a special occasion.
Veronica had asked whether you wanted to play chess with her later.
You'd been a bit blindsided by the request. Without being rude, your red-haired friend didn't exactly seem like the type to enjoy chess or be good at it.
Still, she'd seemed to be earnest with her request; you couldn't find anything else to do but accept.
You had the free time, after all. Harry hadn't looked too happy, but unfortunately for your cross-dressing friend, she had potions that period.
Harry had looked perfectly miserable as she trudged away, while Ron had said something about stopping by her Dorm to grab the board and pieces.
Thus, the duty fell to you to find the two of you a table and wait.
Heading in, you waved to Madame Pince, who was too busy yelling at some poor Hufflepuff to wave back, before heading in. It was a relatively busy day for the room, which meant that it was filled with students either studying quietly or talking with others.
There weren't many tables empty, and most of the better ones, i.e., the ones near the windows and the edge of the room, were taken.
That left a number of the freestanding tables near the center of the room free, and you grabbed one a bit away from the other students, set your bag down, and cracked open a book to wait.
You wouldn't be made to wait long, as soon enough there was a commotion near the doors, and you head Madame Pince angrily yelled, and the yelp of another student as the sound of things getting knocked over rang out.
You looked up.
.
------------->
.
Oh.
Well.
You'd lived a good life.
This was a decent point to let things end off, honestly. Your mother wouldn't have any idea about how much of a pervert you'd become, and you'd end it off with good grades.
As you watched Veronica barrel closer, very much not in control and not looking where she was going, you couldn't help but wonder if this was a common occurrence in her household.
She had mentioned a truly absurd number of siblings. So far, you had only really met two, but…
Even with just Veronica and the twins in the house, you couldn't imagine the chaos that must have been present.
Eventually, even in the slow motion of your thoughts, the impact came. Of course, your face ended up directly in the valley of her breasts, as she tripped over the carpet and went flailing into you. Of course, as she did, her shirt slipped just so that…
.
-------->
.
The two soft cushions of Tit-flesh came, enveloping your head on either side, and momentum pressed your face far in between them. You found it hard to breathe, but at the moment, you also felt that you didn't really need to.
If you were to suffocate here, that was alright.
The rest of her momentum carried, and your chair tipped back, the two of you falling to the ground. Your head impacted the carpeted floor somewhat roughly. The pillow was, after all, covering the wrong side of your head.
Not bothering to struggle, you instead just lie on the floor, existing in a state of perpetual softness. The soft, orangy scene of whatever perfume Veronica bothered wearing filled your nose, alongside the smell of books and ozone that all magic individuals seemed to carry.
A moment passed, and you considered that perhaps you really were going to die here, before finally, thankfully, Veronica lifted herself off you, and you lay on the ground, your face, suddenly uncovered, cold, and missing the warmth of her cleavage, as the red-headed girl was chewed out by Pince.
The stern librarian finished, stomping off. You noted idly that you had a fine view of the old woman's panties from this angle. You also figured that mentioning such would not be conducive to your health.
As she walked away, Ron's face poked into your vision, one hand struggling to fit her massive knockers back into her shirt while the other reached towards you.
"Heh, sorry about that. These things always throw my weight off." She blushed, although the large smile on her face betrayed any possible sense of shame being absent.
You sighed, then accepted the hand, coming to your feet before just as easily falling back into the seat.
"Don't worry about it." You waved her off. If you got angry every time your face somehow ended up in Veronica's breasts, you'd have gotten angry like, four times now.
The analogy didn't really work here, did it?
"So are we going to play or…?" You asked, gesturing to the board still tucked under her arm.
She brightened immediately.
"Yes!" She cheered before flinching at the shush and glare coming from Pince at her table. "Yes!" She whispered instead.
The board was quickly set up, but you couldn't help but squint at the pieces… >>>>>>
You lifted your flat gaze to 'Ron, who grinned.
"Wizard Chess!" She proclaimed, before flinching at the repeated, more forceful shushing.
"So wizards play chess with animated pieces?" You questioned, leaning over to look closer at the pieces. Ron had determined that you would get the black side, mainly based on a coin flip that Veronica had done with a single knut she'd pulled out.
Nodding as she went about setting up the board, Veronica seemed quite pleased with the state of affairs. You watched as the pieces, which seemed to be made of some type of stone, and dressed in tiny outfits to match, clung to the red-headed girl's hands as she arranged them properly. One particularly unlucky White Pawn whined in a squeaky voice as she hung from the large girl's pinky finger, reaching fruitlessly for a Black Pawn to help her.
The imp-like chess-piece looked from side to side, checking to see if any of the other pieces were looking, before stepping forward and kicking the other hands, until her grip loosened, and she fell dramatically to the table, landing with a small 'Tunk' and lying there for a moment, glaring.
It was such an authentic, personal interaction that it cemented to you just how aware these pieces were.
Did wizards really create life for the sake of chess?
…
That was actually relatively on brand for them.
Sighing, you leaned down to get a better look, and as you did, the pieces already turned to face you.
You blinked as the faces turned to look at you, that same unnerving intelligence in their eyes.
The Black Pawn from earlier, the one that'd sabotaged the other, stepped forward, taking a few tiny steps towards you, before stopping, and planting her hands on her hips. >
"Hey!" She called, voice squeaky.
You considered whether you should answer before mentally shrugging.
Why not?
"Yes?" You answered.
The grin on her face widened, but her voice took on a challenging glint.
"You ever played chess before, pretty-boy?"
Cocky one, wasn't she?
"I have."
"Are you any good?"
"I like to think so."
She gave a single nod.
"Good, because if we get our fucking hams steamed like that one time she had that fucking squinty boy from Gryffindor play, I'm going to fucking lose it. Got it? I was hoping you would at least make our loss look good."
Quite a mouth on this one. You wondered if she came like that, or if Ron was secretly a bit of a potty mouth in private.
Still, she was making an awfully bold assumption.
"What makes you so sure we're going to lose?" You couldn't help but ask.
The Pawn-Imp snorted, alongside the various other identical ones, who were milling around. One even had a tiny file, and was tending ot her nails.
"Tell you what, pretty-boy-" She began, waving a finger, "-you win this, I'll screw myself down onto your dick myself, and you can use me like a goddamn fleshlight."
Somehow, you expected that. Before she could continue, though, another piece stepped forward, this one not wearing a crown, but rather a rather luxirous cloack. She placed a hand on the other's shoulder.
.
------->
.
"I apologize for the candor of my subjects." Her voice would've been seductive if it weren't ever so slightly squeaky, due in part to her tiny size. "What she means to say is that we've suffered quite a few losses, recently. Lady Veronica favors the light skins, and it makes us ever so despondent when we lose time and time again."
Her tone shifted, and she stepped even closer, placing a hand this time on your finger, much larger than hers.
"What she means to say is that we would like to avoid a devastating loss, at least." Well, that was at least reasonable.
Her thighs rubbed together, and she bit her lip.
"And should we lose, I asked that you take your carnal anger out on my body, rather than my subjects. I will submit myself to- "
"Alright, Herman, you ready!" Veronica asked, having evidently given her pieces a pep-talk. All of the White Pieces looked decidedly confident, already lined up on the board.
A sense of determination filled you.
"Yep!"
You were so going to fucking win this.
-x-X-x-
The game started relatively standardly. The only awkward part that happened, at first, was when you reached forward to move a pawn forward, and the piece in question, upon being gently grabbed by your hand, wrapped herself around your fingers, grinding against your nail, while making lewd remarks.
You'd instinctively dropped the piece, thankfully in the place you intended. Veronica actually had a pretty stern touch-move rule, in shock at the action, much to the Pawn-Girls' grinning vocal dismay.
"Aww, I was just getting into it~" She groaned. You looked up at Veronica in question, but the girl just gave you a look like you were the weird one.
"You're supposed to order them to the space you want, not… grab them like some sort of pervert." She answered, squinting at you. The white pieces nodded along. The black pieces, however…
"Hey! Who decided that!" Yelled a particularly bold Pawn.
"My Liege is free to handle his knight's body in any way he wishes. It will be my…. Greatest pleasure to be used." Answered the knight, face unchanging despite the rather lewd implications of her statement.
"You can grab me whenever." Was the Black King's statement, turning to look back at you.
You raised an eyebrow towards Ron, who shrugged.
The next move, you opted to follow her suggestion.
"Pawn to E4." You enunciated clearly. There was an audible groan from your forces as the pawn trudged forward. They were evidently looking forward to their manhandling.
From there, the game continued normally.
…
------
Or at least, it did. Until you tried to castle your pieces. The Castle technique was fairly standard, in that it was used in many chess games as an easy way to reposition your king to a more enclosed position, and one of your rooks to where it may better attack.
This was something you'd done plenty of times, although when you did it, you simply picked up the pieces and moved them.
Here, things were different.
"I will castle." You announced, looking to ensure your army understood. The rook nodded, stoically, and the king grinned, walking easily by, the massive (proportionally) woman and petite royal not even sharing a glance as they passed each other.
It was, unexpectedly, the Queen who caused trouble first.
"Oh, hello dear~ It��s been so long since you've been king side castled over to my lap~" The Queen's words were sugary sweet, as her hands drifted along the stiff rock's firm abs, then up to her full breasts, giving them a quick squeeze.
The sharp intake of breath was so quiet you barely heard it. The Queen did as well, evidently, from the way she grinned.
"Oh~ You're just as cute as you were the last time, I just can't help myself." She muttered before leaning in and capturing the muscular girl's lips in her own, pulling her into a deep and sloppy kiss.
The game stalled for a few moments, as the two made out in front of the entire board. The Rook struggled to stay standing, as the queen's hand drifted between her legs, and did something unseen that had the toned legs of the King-Side Rook trembling.
She pulled away, finally, breathing heavily as she did. >
"Tasty~" She licked her lips. "We'll have to discuss matters after this match. I have some other uses for that tongue of yours."
The poor Rook stood ramrod straight, blushing heavily and panting under her Queen's ministrations.
"You going to play?"
Ron evidently saw nothing wrong with this and was instead looking at you impatiently. You cleared your suddenly dry throat.
"Y-Yeah."
----------
Other minor incidents happened, from groping and otherwise, but really, it functioned as a normal game from there.
The next big problem happened when you used one of your pawns, particularly the one that had clung to your hand, to take a white knight that had pushed too far. Ron's choices were between losing the Knight and losing a Bishop, as well as opening herself up for further action.
The noble steed had thus suffered for her master's mistakes.
It was your pawn that seemed to take particular pleasure in the action, and rather than withdrawing the small dagger you knew she held, and miming a takedown against the larger horse-eared woman, your Imp Soldier instead sauntered up to the stoic girl, grinning.
"Well, looky here. One of the big and noble ponies, knocked down to size by little old me~."
Her words seemed to irritate the knight, who snorted in a way not unlike how a horse might when frustrated, not even looking at her, and instead staring straight ahead.
That seemed to then, in turn, also get on the Imps nerves, who smiled dangerously.
"Oh, so you're going to ignore me, then…" She said, walking round her, taking care not to leave the square. "Well, what if I do this then~" And with that, she dove her hand between the other girls legs, vigorous movement visible as the Knight stiffened, letting out a loud and quite unladylike moan at the sudden and unexpected intrusion into her most private space.
Her knees shook, but the Imp had no mercy, hand moving violently, only barely visible from the front, under the Knight's loincloth. >
Eventually, though, she shivered, and the Horse Girl's eyes rolled as she came explosively, nearly collapsing. The Imp pulled back, grinning.
"Jeez, what a squirter~ You some type of slut that gets off from other girls playing with your fat quim." She said as she pulled the back loincloth away to showcase the fruits of her labor. >
"S-silence fiend!" It would have sounded more powerful had she not stuttered.
The Imp pretended to think.
"Heh, nah." She denied, and then the Imp dove back in, this time shoving her entire head between the other's legs, and making an absolute meal out of the other's pussy.
By the time she was done, the knight was left in quite an un-knightly position- >
-and the Imp, satisfied, stepped into place, wiping her mouth with a grin.
As Veronica begrudgingly picked up her twitching knight, your pawn gave an unnerving smile to the White Pawn in front of her.
"Who's next~."
From that point on, you were winning the game.
-------------
Your victory was truly assured when, finally, you got your third Queen, via a pawn reaching the other side
Honestly, you could have definitely check-mated the Red-Headed girl before this point. She had put up a good fight; you had just been genuinely better.
But it was no contest now. You had both rooks, a bishop, a knight, two queens, and plenty of pawns left, to her Bishop and three pawns.
The materials advantage was insurmountable. This was just you playing with your food.
Any serious player would have conceded long before this point. Veronica, on the other hand… >
Well, she seemed determined to try and somehow squeak out something.
Using your two Queens as guards, you escorted the third pawn to the end of the board, the little Imp walking as if she were on a catwalk with each step, nose in the air and a look of positive delight on her face.
Upon reaching the final square, she spun around, making grabby hands at you.
"Gimme!" She demanded. Obeying the command, you reached to the side, grabbing the little hat that signified queenship, however temporary.
You handed it over, and with a "Chesshire" grin, she plopped it on her head, preening. >
"Behold, my majesty~!" She cheered happily, spinning around a few more times. She was only stopped when one of the queens, the original, not the upgraded pawn, stopped her with a hand.
"Is her majesty ready for her coronation?" She drawled, a look of indulgence on her face as she stared hungrily down at the Imp.
The short girl faltered at the expression, a worrying look flashing across. >
"Eh!"
It was too late for her anyway, and moments later the queen had the tiny Imp hoisted up over her shoulders and made herself busy 'coronating' the smaller girl. Quickly, skillfully, too, if the sudden, lewd, mindless noise the imp started making was anything to go by. >
The White King stared at the show, a mixture of fear and arousal on her face. You noticed her hand stray under her cloak, arm beginning to move in a steady rhythm herself as she stared at the scene. You didn't say anything.
Soon, the Imp was on her face, panting, in a copy of what she had done to the Knight, and the first Queen was quite satisfied with herself.
----------------
With three queens, even Veronica couldn't hold out hope, so she held out her hand in surrender.
"Good game." She sighed. You shook it, wondering if now was a good time to gloat to your pieces that you'd won. Probably not.
Instead, you turned and watched as the three queens fell upon the White king, the petite monarch being quickly overwhelmed by the two empowered imps alongside the taller woman. The White Army was forced to watch as their beloved ruler was taken by, thoroughly, the Black Pieces, the other holding out for only a minute before moans started to escape her, as the three skillfully teased her body, escalating every moment until they had her writhing in pleasure under their combined hands and tongues. Soon, the remaining Black Pieces were joining in, the White King's clothing coming off, revealing her soaked core and stiff nipples.
With her weak spots revealed, it was over, and the reckoning truly began.
It was quite the sight, and a humiliating one as well, judging by the shamefaced arousal painted across the faces of each white piece.
"Good game." You offered, smiling.
Ron groaned, suddenly, and put her head in her hands.
"Darn it, I was hoping to surprise you with this, and finally be able to teach you something cool." She groans, morose. You laughed, patting her on the back.
"Maybe next time. This was fun." You offered. Her face brightened at that.
-x-X-x-
The two of you spent some time discussing the game before Veronica had to go.
"I have detention with Flitwick." She explained, blushing. She refused to elaborate as to how she got said detention, but instead just stiffly looked away every time you asked.
Before she left, though.
"I want you to have this." She said, shoving the chessboard towards you. You blinked down at the sheet of black and weight stone in your hands. It was a hefty thing and designed nicely. An expensive novelty in the Muggle world and an everyday item in this one.
"Are you sure?" You asked anyway, trying not to think of the implications of being technically offered the lives of thirty-two thinking beings.
She nodded profusely.
"I have, like, tons. Plus-" and at this Veronica gained a slightly mischievous grin, looking all too much like her sisters at the moment, "-if I give you this, you have to play with me again, right?"
That…
That was so devious!
You couldn't help but laugh before agreeing.
"Sure. We'll play again." You chuckled. Veronica really was just an adorable existence.
The girl smiled happily before turning on her heel and dashing away. You watched her knock over two Slytherin students on the way out, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out whether that had been on purpose or by accident.
Just as she left through the doors, and before you could start packing up, you were interrupted.
"She's a nice girl, that one, isn't she?"
You looked to your side. Out of the box they had come in, being the only one that hadn't been put away, was the Black Queen, standing tall and regal on the table next to you, following your gaze.
"Did you know that she was kicked out of the chess club for being too good?" She continued, easily. As if a talking chess piece shaped like a horny teen's wet dream was an everyday encounter.
"Really?" You responded, bemusedly.
She nodded.
"She cried her heart out, poor girl." She said in a babyish voice, before finally turning towards you. "Anyways, about that payment."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Payment?"
The Black Queen nodded profusely.
"For services rendered, we don't work for free after all~."
This was interesting.
"And if I don't pay?"
The Royal put a hand up to her forehead, almost Shakespearean in her dramatics.
"Oh~ The horror! My Wife and People shall starve at the whim of a cruel tyrant."
You couldn't help but chuckle at the act.
Hearing it, the Queen put her hand down, much more casual now.
"It's not required, of course, but…" She trailed off, gaze turning into something more hungry. "I think it'd be worth both our while."
Leaning back in your chair, your back stretched delightfully.
"What did you have in mind?"
A few steps, and she hops off the table, into your lap. The small lady was light and caught her balance quickly enough. Once she did, she sent up a hot and heavy look.
"Well…" She trailed off, but her meaning was clear. A quick look around, and you were shucking off her clothing with her, laying it out on the table while trying to make sure no one was looking. Scooting your chair in a bit, and your were satisfied that the view was blocked.
A few moments later, your own hands moved down to your fly, unzipping it as quietly as you could, while questioning why you were doing this.
Having sex in private was one thing.
Hell, having sex in someone else's house was one thing.
But having sex with a Chess Piece you just met, who is several times smaller than you, in a crowded library.
That felt reckless.
But for some reason… You were harder than you'd ever been before.
You tried to pinpoint the source of what made this thought such an utter turn-on for you. Eventually, you came to a rather embarrassing conclusion.
It was because of the fact that it was in a library, surrounded by books in a place of learning.
Weren't you a freak?
You looked down at the Small woman hidden in your hand. Your length, now poking out of your pants, hovered inches away.
The difference in size was stark, and the logistics of this suddenly seemed more difficult. >
"Are you sure?" You asked, looking down at her. She gave you a smirk, not a hint of fear on her face. If anything, the Black Royal seemed excited.
"Don't worry, I stretch easily. Just think of me like… a sex toy, or something." She grinned. "Use me and abuse me as much as you please." Her voice dropped an octave, "Be as rough as you like."
You drifted her a bit closer, your glans now kissing her tiny entrance. She pushed back with a moan, but with her small size, her drooling quim rubbing along your dick felt more like someone was running a wet finger over the tip, the sensation driving a low hum and a twitch out of you.
"What are you waiting for!?" She asked, whining. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had a good dicking! Never! Because I have a goddamn useless wife as a queen, and not a real man!" You looked up quickly, trying to see if anyone had heard the outburst. No one had poked their head up.
"You're sure?" You asked again, for the last time. You were starting to lose your own patience.
She met your eyes.
"Screw me onto your dick and use me like a fleshlight."
Well, as the lady demands.
Sccchlick! >
In a single smooth motion, you impaled the tiny woman onto our cock, her body, as she said, stretching quite easily over your length.
"Fuck yes!" She at least had the wherewithal to whisper, rather than scream her pleasure. Still, her entire body seemed to just go limp at the new addition to it.
This was likely only possible, you realized, because she was a Chess Piece, any woman with internal organs worth anything would be dad had something that big been shoved inside them.
"You good?" You whispered down to her. There was a pause, and then a slow, hesitant nod.
Taking a firm grip of her by the midsection, you slowly drew her off your length. You were unable to go more than a few inches inside her, but it was more than enough.
Once she was nearly all the way off, you pulled her back down.
A moan, loud this time, escaped her, and she covered her mouth as she squirted down your length.
The polite thing to do would be to offer to stop there. To let her take a break, but… With your tip inside her, and your hard-on still raging, you weren't feeling very nice.
You met her eyes, and she gave you a single nod. That was all the permission you needed to treat her like the fleshlight he oh so wanted to be.
By the time you pulled out, the state that the Queen was in was, well…>
Distinctly un-Queenly. Still, she'd done an admirable job taking your length and load, so, gently, and with the awareness that there were still other students around, you lifted her up, before opening the box a sliver and dropping her in. The stares of the other pieces were wide-eyed, and the cum stuffed Queen was dropped on the floor of their home.
You closed the box, then packed your stuff. You'd have to drop this off in your dorm first.
Heading out the library doors, you met Madame Pince's eyes.
She was beet red and staring at you with an unreadable expression. You offered a grin and a wave as you left. If she was going to do anything, she would have done it already.
-x-X-x-