The Hogwarts PlayWitch (Ch. 10 - Pansy Parkinson & Hermione Granger)

Disclaimer: This story is set in a period of time after the war, where Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts to complete their studies. All featured characters are 18 years of age or older.

Harry checked his watch for the third time, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited in the common room. It was already quarter past eight, and neither Ron nor Hermione had come down yet. Breakfast would be nearly over by the time they made it to the Great Hall, if they made it at all.

Ron's absence wasn't exactly a mystery. He had grabbed a copy of the latest PlayWitch the moment it appeared and immediately disappeared into the bathroom with it tucked under his arm. That was twenty minutes ago, and the occasional muffled groan drifting down from the boys' dormitory left no doubt about how his best friend was enjoying Hermione's debut issue.

"Typical," Harry muttered, though he could hardly fault him. The photos had turned out rather spectacular after all.

But Hermione's absence was more puzzling. She was never late—punctuality was practically hardwired into her DNA. Harry was beginning to wonder if she'd changed her mind, if the reality of her magazine debut had finally hit her and she'd decided to hide in her dormitory all day. He couldn't blame her, really. Having photos of yourself cum-covered and slurping on a fat cock while dressed like a slutty schoolgirl spread across Hogwarts took a certain kind of courage, and even Hermione had her limits.

He'd practically given up hope when he heard footsteps on the girls' staircase. Finally, Harry thought, expecting to see a mortified Hermione shuffling down in her usual school robes, maybe with a book held strategically in front of her face. But instead, his jaw dropped.

It wasn't the shy, embarrassed Hermione he'd been expecting at all. She descended the stairs wearing the exact outfit from her PlayWitch shoot—the tiny pleated skirt that barely covered her arse paired with a low-cut white blouse, its top buttons undone so her massive tits practically spilled out of the inadequate fabric. The thin material did nothing to hide her hardened nipples, which poked through like little peaks begging for attention. Knee-high socks completed the look, making her legs appear even longer than usual, while each deliberate step showcased her newfound confidence as her hips swayed with practised sensuality.

"Hermione!" Harry gasped, his eyes roaming over her body despite himself. "You're actually wearing it out?"

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a confident smile playing on her lips. "Why not? I look good in it, don't I?"

Without waiting for an answer, she did a little pirouette, and the skirt flew up to reveal the bright red thong underneath, the thin fabric disappearing between her perfectly round cheeks. The sight of her exposed arse—those two perfect globes of flesh that had haunted his dreams—made Harry's cock twitch violently in his trousers.

"Bloody hell," he breathed, his voice rough. "You can't go to breakfast like that."

"Watch me," Hermione said, walking right up to him. Her hands came to rest on his chest as she rose up on her toes, and Harry's hands automatically went to the small of her back to steady her. She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering just long enough to make his heart race.

"Thank you," she whispered against his skin. "For challenging my boundaries. For showing me this side of myself."

Harry's hands couldn't help but wander lower, sliding down past the hem of her tiny skirt to cup her bare arse. His fingers sank directly into the soft, warm flesh, spreading her cheeks slightly. He could feel the thin string of her thong between his fingers, could feel the way she trembled at his touch.

"Harry!" she giggled, a mischievous glint in her eye as she playfully pushed his hands away. "Save that enthusiasm for the camera, won't you? Besides, I'm absolutely starving."

The journey to the Great Hall was surprisingly quiet. Most students were already at breakfast, though the few they passed in the corridors did double-takes at Hermione's outfit. A couple of seventh-years clutched copies of PlayWitch, their eyes widening as they connected the outfit to the magazine's pages. One Hufflepuff boy nearly walked into a suit of armour, his attention completely focused on the way her tits bounced with each step, barely contained by her straining blouse.

"Alright there, Davies?" Harry called out with a grin as the boy stumbled.

"Fucking hell," the student breathed, his gaze fixed on Hermione's swaying arse. "Granger's actually wearing the outfit from the magazine! Look at those tits!"

Hermione just smiled and blew him a kiss, the gesture causing her to lean forward slightly and giving the poor boy an even better view of her cleavage. His face went scarlet, and he hurried away, clutching his magazine to hide his obvious erection.

When they pushed through the doors of the Great Hall, however, the entire room erupted. The morning post had clearly delivered PlayWitch to everyone, and copies were scattered across every table. Students jumped to their feet, applauding and cheering as they recognised the outfit from the magazine's pages. Copies of PlayWitch waved in the air like flags, many open to specific pages showing Hermione on her knees, Harry's massive cock pressed against her cheek, her brown eyes looking up at the camera with pure lust, or her lips wrapped around his thick shaft, her cheeks hollowed from the effort.

"GRANGER! GRANGER! GRANGER!"

The Gryffindor table was the loudest, with students banging their fists on the wood in appreciation. Harry couldn't help but grin as they made their way to their usual seats, the entire hall following their progress.

"Oi, Granger! Let's see those big tits bounce!" a seventh-year Slytherin shouted, holding his magazine open to a page where her breasts strained against her tiny blouse.

"When's that massive cock gonna fuck your fat arse?" another student called out. "I'd pay good money to see those cheeks clapping!"

"Bend over and show us that thong!" someone else yelled.

"I've been wanking to your pictures all morning, Granger!"

Hermione gave them all a little curtsey, dipping low enough that her skirt rode up to reveal the bottom curves of her arse cheeks. The movement sent her tits threatening to spill completely out of her blouse, drawing audible groans from the watching students. Boys frantically adjusted their robes, trying to hide the obvious tents forming beneath.

They had barely sat down when a figure pushed through the crowd. Pansy Parkinson strutted towards them, her own copy of PlayWitch clutched in her manicured hands. Her usual haughty expression was replaced by something almost... reverent as she gazed down at the magazine's pages.

"Well, well," Pansy drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "The Mudblood finally experienced the power of a real pure-blood cock."

Harry tensed, starting to rise from his seat, but Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him. She stood up slowly, her movement deliberate as she faced Pansy. The motion caused her tits to jiggle enticingly, drawing every eye in the vicinity. Her expression remained cool and collected as she raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean, Parkinson?"

Pansy flipped open the magazine to a page showing Hermione on her knees, mascara running down her cheeks as she struggled with Harry's girth. "Look at you, Granger. Completely overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. You can barely handle it." She turned the page to show another photo—Hermione's eyes rolled back, spit dripping down her chin. "Pathetic, really. All you've got going for you is a pair of big tits and a fat arse. Just a fun little toy for a bored pure-blood to play with."

She traced her finger along the prominent veins visible in Harry's cock in the photo, her eyes glazed with fascination. "But this... this is pure perfection. Those thick veins pulsing with centuries of wizarding nobility. Only the most ancient bloodlines could produce such a masterpiece. This is what true breeding looks like."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick glance, both choosing to remain silent about whose cock Pansy was actually admiring so reverently.

"If you're so fascinated by it," Hermione said coolly, smoothing down her tiny skirt in a way that only served to draw more attention to how little it covered, "why don't you feature in the next issue yourself?"

Pansy's laugh was sharp and cruel. "I'm a pure-blood witch, Granger. I don't need to whore myself out in some cheap magazine for a taste of real pure-blood cock." She leaned closer, her impressive chest pressing against the constraints of her robes. "Besides, I noticed you only got to lick and suck. He didn't even fuck you properly. That's because even he knows Mudbloods aren't worthy of the full experience."

"He seemed to enjoy himself just fine," Hermione replied, snatching the magazine from Pansy's hands and flipping it over to the page that showed her face covered in thick ropes of cum, her tongue extended to catch every drop. "Look at how much cum he gave me! That's not the reaction of someone who wasn't satisfied."

"Please." Pansy tried to grab the magazine back, but Hermione held it out of reach, causing her tits to strain even more against her blouse. "Any pure-blood wizard could cum from having his cock touched by Mudblood hands—the forbidden thrill of it all. But that's not satisfaction, Granger. That's just... experimenting with something beneath his station."

The noise in the Great Hall had died down to whispers as everyone strained to hear the confrontation. Even the professors at the head table seemed to be paying attention, though they pretended otherwise.

"Compare your pathetic performance to Daphne Greengrass," Pansy continued, her voice carrying to every corner of the silent hall. "Her pure-blood cunt was dripping wet, practically begging for that magnificent cock as it split her open from behind. She took every inch like she was born for it—because she was. Pure-bloods are bred for this kind of perfection. You? You're just a Mudblood with a nice set of tits who got lucky enough to wrap her lips around something divine."

Pansy's face had flushed with excitement now, two spots of colour appearing high on her cheeks as she circled around Hermione like a predator. "Look at you, dressed like a common whore. Is this what you think will keep his attention? Showing off your fat arse and bouncing your tits around like some kind of muggle stripper?"

"At least I had the courage to do it," Hermione shot back. "You're all talk, Parkinson. Hiding behind your pure-blood status because you know you couldn't handle it."

"Couldn't handle it?" Pansy's voice rose with indignation. Her fingers flew to the buttons of her shirt, popping them open one by one until her black lace bra was visible. "I'm built for pure-blood cock, Granger. These hips"—she ran her hands down her own curves—"were made to bear pure-blood heirs." She reached into her bra and hefted her tits up and out, the pale flesh spilling over the lace cups. "And these tits?" The tops of her dusky nipples peeked over the edge of the bra as she lifted them higher, practically shoving them in Hermione's face. "These were meant to be fondled by pure-blood hands, to be sucked on by pure-blood lips. Not like you, fumbling around with something you'll never truly deserve."

"So prove it," Hermione challenged, her eyes briefly flickering down to Pansy's exposed breasts before returning to her face. "Feature in the next issue. Show everyone how a 'proper pure-blood witch' handles a real wizarding cock."

Pansy's eyes narrowed, realising she'd walked into a corner. But then a wicked smile crossed her face as she noticed how the crowd was responding to her exposed breasts. Several boys were openly staring, their eyes glazed with lust as they took in the sight of her pale flesh spilling over the black lace.

"Look at that, lads!" someone shouted. "Parkinson's got a proper set on her!"

"Fuck me, those are some pure-blood tits right there!"

"Makes you wonder what else she's hiding under those robes!"

Pansy preened under the attention, arching her back to push her breasts out even further. "You see, Granger? This is what real wizards want. Not some Mudblood pretending to be something she's not."

The crowd murmured their agreement, and Hermione could feel the tide turning against her. She'd been outmanoeuvred—Pansy was using her body to win the crowd's support.

"You know what would be better, Granger?" Pansy continued, her voice dropping to a low, predatory purr. "You should feature again. Do it properly this time. I want to see that magnificent pure-blood cock split your Mudblood cunt wide open. Watch as it stretches you beyond your limits, see those fat tits bounce as he pounds into you like the worthless Mudblood you are."

"What's wrong, Parkinson? Scared to actually do it yourself?" Hermione shot back, but she could hear the weakness in her own position. The crowd was clearly enjoying Pansy's display.

"Why would I be scared?" Pansy cupped her breasts, lifting them higher. "I just think everyone deserves to see what happens when that divine cock finally claims you completely. The whole school should witness a Mudblood getting properly bred by pure-blood perfection."

More cheers erupted from the watching students, and Hermione realised she had only one way to regain control. With deliberate slowness, she reached for the remaining buttons of her blouse.

"You think those are impressive, Parkinson?" Hermione's fingers worked the buttons one by one, the fabric parting to reveal her bare breasts, no bra in sight. "Let me show you what really drives wizards wild."

The Great Hall went silent as Hermione shrugged off her blouse entirely, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounced free, full and heavy, her pink nipples already hard from the cool air and the excitement of the moment. She hefted them in her hands, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh as she presented them to the crowd.

"Fucking hell!" someone gasped.

"These are the tits that are going to make that 'magnificent pure-blood cock' forget all about your pathetic attempts," Hermione said confidently, squeezing them together. "These are what he won't be able to keep his hands off."

The reaction was instantaneous. The Great Hall erupted in cheers and wolf-whistles, students climbing on benches for a better view.

"Merlin's balls, look at Granger's tits!"

"Those things are fucking massive!"

"I'd cum all over those in a heartbeat!"

Pansy's face flushed with anger as she realised she'd lost the crowd's favour. Her own impressive breasts suddenly seemed inadequate compared to Hermione's spectacular display.

"I... I want to be there when you get destroyed," Pansy said desperately, trying to regain some semblance of control while hastily covering her own breasts. "When that divine cock ruins you, I want to watch every second of your humiliation."

"Is that so?" Hermione's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Then let's do it together. You'll get to see me handle it up close, and I'll get to watch you choke on your words when you realise you can't handle what you've been worshipping." Her triumphant smile widened. "We'll see who really knows how to worship a proper wizarding cock."

Pansy's mouth opened and closed, realising too late that she'd been completely outmanoeuvred. "I... that's not..."

"What's the matter?" Hermione pressed, her bare breasts jiggling with each word. "All that big talk about pure-blood superiority, but you won't even compete with a Mudblood? How disappointing."

"Fine!" Pansy snapped, her composure finally cracking. "We'll do it together! I'll show everyone what happens when proper breeding meets Mudblood desperation!"

"Perfect," Hermione said with satisfaction, making no move to cover herself. "Same shoot, same cock. May the best witch win."

The crowd went absolutely wild, the noise so deafening that the enchanted ceiling flickered and sparked.

"Holy fuck! Granger and Parkinson in the same shoot!"

"Both of them fighting over that massive cock!"

"I can't wait to see whose tits look better covered in cum!"

The chanting started up immediately: "SHAKE ON IT! SHAKE ON IT! SHAKE ON IT!"

"Do we have a deal, Parkinson?" Hermione extended her hand, still completely topless and showing no shame whatsoever.

Pansy looked around at the expectant faces, realising she had no choice. Her reputation would be ruined if she backed down now. With visible reluctance, she grasped Hermione's hand, trying not to stare at the magnificent breasts bouncing mere inches from her face.

The handshake was brief but firm, sealing their agreement to share the next PlayWitch shoot—a prospect that would surely push boundaries neither witch had imagined crossing.

Only after Pansy had disappeared did Hermione calmly retrieve her blouse from the floor. She draped it over her shoulders but left the buttons undone, her magnificent breasts still on full display for anyone who cared to look—which was everyone.

Harry watched the entire display with his mouth hanging open, his cock so hard it was painful. Where had this confident, sexually assertive Hermione been hiding all these years? And more importantly, how was he going to handle a threesome with both Hermione and Pansy fighting over his cock?

"Well," Hermione said brightly, sitting back down and buttering a piece of toast, her open blouse doing nothing to hide her exposed breasts as she moved. "That was entertaining. Pass the marmalade, would you, Harry?"

Disclaimer: This story is set in a period of time after the war, where Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts to complete their studies. All featured characters are 18 years of age or older.