
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6562630.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Albus_Dumbledore/Cormac_McLaggen, Voldemort/Fred_Weasley/George_Weasley,
      Lucius_Malfoy/Ron_Weasley
  Character:
      Albus_Dumbledore, Cormac_McLaggen, Voldemort, Fred_Weasley, George
      Weasley, Ron_Weasley, Lucius_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Dom/sub, Rimming, Romance, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Twincest, Oral_Sex,
      Possessive_Behavior, Cross-Generation_Relationship, Master/Slave
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-19 Updated: 2016-08-19 Chapters: 7/? Words: 11232
****** Together at Last ******
by BecauseImBored
Summary
     Desperate to end the war, Dumbledore, Severus, and Rabastan tap into
     ancient magic to bring peace to the wizarding world. This has
     unforeseen consequences. The men of Harry Potter become trapped,
     coupled together with mating bonds. These are their stories.
     FYI the first two chapters are mostly exposition. Feel free to skip
     to the "good stuff" that starts in chapter 3. Tried to come up with
     less popular pairings. Enjoy.
***** Chapter 1 (All) *****
"This is madness," Severus stated. "You have no idea what could happen."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Severus," Dumbledore huffed while
trying to catch his breath. "And at this point, we are desperate. The wizarding
world is tearing itself apart."
It was not unusual for Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore to meet at night. At
Hogwarts, the two fellow insomniacs would occasionally share a drink long after
the rest of the school had gone to bed. After the war began, the two often held
clandestine meetings in the blackness of night, such was the nature of
spycraft. However, it was not common for them to be meeting in the middle of
Stonehenge, as was the case on this evening. As Stonehenge was guarded against
apparition and many other types of magic, getting to this particular location
was particularly taxing.
It had been a year since that fateful day in the Ministry when Voldemort's
return was revealed to the world. Luckily there had been no casualties that
day, thanks to the quick response of Dumbledore and the Order. However, ever
since then the wizarding world was in chaos. It was impossible to say who was
on what side, and the death toll was rising by the day.
"You have no idea what will happen if you enact that spell," Severus continued.
"We could all turn into fish for all we know!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands
up in exasperation.
"Now Severus, would being a fish really be that awful? I think fish can be
quite charming, don't you?" Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling, albeit in a
smaller and dimmer manner than what was commonly seen before the war.
Severus Snape was not amused. He gave Dumbledore a look attesting to that fact.
"Besides," Dumbledore carried on regardless, "we know Voldemort is looking into
similar magics as we speak. At least if we beat him to the punch there is some
hope for a positive outcome."
The spell that they were currently discussing was old, to the point of being
ancient. So old in fact, that no one knew exactly what it was or how it worked.
It was vaguely a wish granting spell, partly a god-summoning spell, and
resembled a self-fulfilling prophesy. Mostly, it was a way of accomplishing big
magic on a much smaller budget. The spell would essentially tap into a very
old, very powerful magical entity that resided beneath them, and then ask said
entity achieve the spellcastor's goal. The problem lie in the fact that the
entity itself had some form of sentience, and would accomplish the goal however
it chose. As genies have taught many a witch and wizard over the years, this
could end badly.
"Fine then, say we decide to go through with this," Snape said. "We're still
missing one person. The spell clearly dictates that we need a representative
for each side as well as someone who has switched sides. What death eater could
possibly want to help us?"
"That would be me," came a deep voice from the backgound. And indeed a new
figure began to slowly fade into existence, one of a tan, tall, and somewhat
skinny man with a face that was caught somewhere between looking alarming and
looking suspicious.
"Rabastan!" Snape exclaimed. "Youare the traitor!"
"I am no traitor!" Rabastan replied. "I just want this war to be over. After
over a decade in Azkaban, I want some peace."
"A likely story. Albus, you can't possibly trust him," Snape rebutted.
"Gentleman," Dumbledore started firmly, "we do not have time for you to argue.
We need to do this quickly or all could be lost. Come now, make a circle."
And so they shuffled into position, making a circle (technically a triangle) in
the center of the stone circle.
"Alright now," Dumbledore said. "Here we go."
          o "Accerso alius sententia ut mihi
            phasmatis of interregnum ego dico
            solvo meus mens mei
            dico phasmatis audite meus placitum
            meus mens quod iacio stan."
A second passed in passed in silence. Then another. Then the world went white.
***** Chapter 2 (All) *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The sunlight shone brightly over Stonehenge. The area was mostly abandoned, an
uncommon occurrence for a national landmark. The only sign of human life was at
the very center of the stones, where a group of men lay sleeping. Albus
Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and Rabastan Lestrange were still present of course.
Rabastan's brother, Rodolphus Lestrange, was now also present. Sworn enemies
Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter slept peacefully just feet away from each
other, with Cormac McLaggen and Xenophilius Lovegood between them. All of the
Weasley boys were scattered about the lawn: Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie,
Bill, and even Arthur. Both Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy were in attendance,
along with Draco's cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Cedric Diggory was
there as well, having recovered from the year-long coma he was put in at the
end of Harry's fourth year. Russians Viktor Krum and Igor Karkaroff, brothers
Dennis and Colin Creevey, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black,
Gilderoy Lockhart, Fenrir Greyback, and Rufus Scrimgeour completed the group.
They began to wake. Slowly at first, groaning and blinking as one does when one
has been mysteriously transported to a new location. Then, as reality started
to come into focus, they went from groggy to alarmed and frightened at a rather
alarming rate.
"Wha-?"
"Harry!"
"Where am I?"
"You!"
"What the hell!"
"Nargles."
Chaos quickly erupted on the hill, and wands were soon in hand.
"Duratus Tranquillium"
With a swish of his wand and a flash of purple light, Dumbledore managed to
immobilize most of the men before things got completely out of hand. The sole
exception was of course Lord Voldemort.
"What the hell is this Dumbledore!" Voldemort screamed with wand in hand, ready
to strike. "What. Have. You. Done." punctuated each worth with a period of
accusation.
"I have invoked the Old Powers to end this war." Dumbledore stated calmly,
hands in the air in a placating manner. "While I do not yet know exactly what
the effects are, judging by the fact that you have not tried to kill me yet,
I'm assuming your soul has been restored?"
Voldemort flinched. While he still retained his snake like features and blood
red eyes, there was a element humanity and sanity in his face that was not
there previously. Still a monster, but now capable of actual feelings and
rational thought.
"That is none of your business," Voldemort hissed. "More importantly, what the
fuck were you thinking! Invoking the Old Powers, anything could have happened!
Why are we here? What did your madness do?"
"Well to be honest," Dumbledore replied, "I'm not quite sure yet. But between
the two of us I'm sure we can figure it out. Unless of course you would rather
waste time trying to kill me." Dumbledore almost seemed amused.
Voldemort reluctantly lowered his wand while trying to come to terms with the
new reality he had been thrust into. His expression however made it very clear
that killing was still on the table.
"Let's just get on with it, shall we."
Thus began a long session of diagnostic wand waving, hypothesis raising,
arguing, and repeating. Over and over. For about ninety minutes this continued,
until they eventually broke off to run tests on the men individually.
Dumbledore, knowing the men were still conscious, would smile and mutter small
reassurances like "Do not worry, it will all work out." Voldemort did not.
Voldemort, already not in the best of moods, was very intent on finishing his
task quickly. Nevertheless, while he did his best to remain focused, he could
not help but let scarlet eyes flick over to the Weasley twins on a regular
basis, who Dumbledore carefully avoided. Meanwhile Dumbledore's eyes often
wandered to the figure of one Cormac McLaggen, who Voldemort gave a wide berth.
Finally, after meeting back with each other for more arguing, they decided it
was time to address the group. Dumbledore first cast a powerful calming spell,
then lifted the paralysis.
Severus and Harry were the first to speak.
"Tell us, Albus, what is going on here."
"What are you doing with him, professor, he is a murderer!"
"It's obvious." Lucius interrupted with a sneer. "This bloody old fool has done
something incredibly stupid." He said, gesturing towards Dumbledore.
"Shut up Harry!" The twins yelled simultaneously, startling each other.
"Hey, don't talk to him that way!" Cormac spoke up angrily at the same time,
eyes blazing briefly at Lucius before a look of confusion and bewilderment
overcame his face.
"Quiet McLaggen, you don't know anything!" Ron followed, just as furious as he
reached for his wand.
"Silence!" Dumbledore commanded as he cast a spell to keep them quiet. "Alright
now gentlemen, there is no need for alarm."
"Ha!" yelled Voldemort behind him, glaring darkly with his arms crossed.
"As I'm sure some of you are aware," Dumbledore continued undeterred, "there is
a great power that lies beneath these ruins. I have asked this power to end the
war and bring peace to the wizarding world. And I am happy to say that my wish
has been granted."
"Yes, Dumbledore, congratulations, you've won. Now tell them the cost, tell
them what has been done to them." Voldemort commanded, murder in his voice.
"Well, yes, it seems that in order to ensure peace, all of us have been given
mating bonds."
Dumbledore explained that there were many type of mating bonds. Their bonds had
two main components to them: sexual enhancement and compulsion. The first part
of the bond was rather strait forward, and ensured that the mates would have
some degree of sexual compatibility and attraction towards one another. The
compulsion part of the bond, however, was a bit trickier.
There were four levels of compulsion. Level one compulsion would manifest as a
slight desire to please the other, easily overcome. Level three was similar to
a imperious curse (breakable, but only with considerable effort and will
power), and level two was of course somewhere between level one and two. Level
four was complete dominance, with no option but to obey all orders immediately.
In their case, the level of the compulsion was different for each bond.
Dumbledore took some time listing all of the bonds that had been formed amongst
the group. Needless to say, most were not happy.
"Tell them the rest, Dumbledore, there's no point sugar coating it now,"
Voldemort said.
"Right, well, unfortunately it seems the bonds are currently in a very . . .
unstable condition. As a result, all of your emotions are in a very volatile
state, as you may have noticed. At the current time it would be dangerous for
you to be around anyone but your bondmate. We also expect that if you were to
travel too far from your bondmate at this time that you would most likely go
insane."
"So what are we supposed to do then?" Draco asked the question on everyone's
mind.
"Tom and I have discussed it, and we have decided it would be best for everyone
if they spent the next month at home in the company of their new bond mates in
order to bond properly."
The resulting uproar was immediate and loud. But once again, they were
eventually silenced by the two elder wizards.
"Is there anything else we can do to make the bond settle faster?" Remus
eventually asked, once the group had quieted down.
"Sex." Voldemort answered curtly. "Lots of sex."
Chapter End Notes
     Here goes, the pairings:
     Severus Snape (dom)/ Gilderoy Lockhart (sub) level 1
     Fenrir Greyback (dom)/ Percy Weasley (sub) level 1
     Albus Dumbledore (dom)/ Cormac McLaggen (sub) level 2
     Arthur Weasley (dom)/ Sirius Black (sub) level 2
     Remus Lupin/ Draco Malfoy (sub) level 3
     Igor Karkaroff (dom)/ Harry Potter (sub) level 3
     Ron Weasley (dom)/ Lucius Malfoy (sub) level 4
     Gregory Goyle (dom)/ Cedric Diggory (sub) level 1
     Vincent Crabbe (dom)/ Cedric Diggory (sub) level 1
     Rabastan Lestrange (dom)/ Neville Longbottom (sub) level 3
     Rodolphus Lestrange (dom)/ Neville Longbottom (sub) level 3
     Voldemort (dom)/Fred Weasley (sub) level 1
     Voldemort (dom)/George Weasley (sub) level 1
     Xenophilius Lovegood (dom)/ Rufus Scrimgeour (sub) level 3
     Viktor Krum (dom)/ Xenophilius Lovegood (sub) level 2
     Rufus Scrimgeour (dom)/ Viktor Krum (sub) level 1
     Bill Weasley (dom)/ Dennis Creevey (sub) level 2
     Bill Weasley (dom)/ Colin Creevey (sub) level 4
     Dennis Creevy (dom)/ Charlie Weasley (sub) level 4
     Colin Creevey (dom)/Charlie Weasley (sub) level 2
     Whether or not I'll get to all of these, or how far I'll get, is
     uncertain.
***** Voldemort/Twins Part I *****
Chapter Notes
     Bolded orders indicate that the compulsion part of the bond has been
     activated. In the twins's case, they can easily throw off any order
     if they want to.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Riddle Manor did not just stand on the end of Little Hangleton, it loomed over
the entire village. Looking like it had escaped from a bad horror novel, it
silently watched over the village, just as villagers silently watched the house
out the corners of their eyes. Tonight, however, the manor's imposing silence
was being broken by an alarming amount of bangs and booms.
The second the Weasley twins entered the manor they had run off in different
directions, and had been causing chaos ever since. Voldemort sat in his drawing
room, one eye twitching as the Weasleys' unnaturally loud footsteps and other
various noises announcing their movement permeated through the house.
The unmistakable crash of glass breaking was the preverbal last straw.
"You blasted hellions, stop that at once and get down here right now!" He
yelled.
A tense quiet fell over the house. Voldemort waited impatiently as the redheads
failed to appear before him. Just as he was about to go searching, he heard
poorly executed whispers coming from behind one of the walls.
"You first," Fred whispered.
"Me! Why me?" Asked George.
"You're oldest."
"You're quicker."
"You're taller."
"You're stronger."
Voldemort listened to them as they continued to argue, patience wearing thin.
He pointed his wand at the wall.
"Bombarda!" A blue light shot out of his wand. With a loud blast a large hole
was created in the wall, revealing the elusive twins.
"Ahh! Hold me," Fred said as he wrapped himself around George.
"He's going to kill us!"
"Run for your life!"
The two began to sprint away once again, but the Dark Lord was too quick for
them. With a flick of his wrist two ropes of light flew out of his wand and
wrapped themselves around the twins' right ankles. Then, like fish caught on a
line, they were slowly reeled in.
"Help us!"
"We're going to die!"
"Will you two shut up!"
"Kill him first, it's his fault!"
"No, take him!"
"Silence!" Voldemort ordered, as he waved his wand to remove their voices. "I
am not going to kill you," he seethed, red eyes flaring. "To kill you would be
akin to committing suicide. That is not to say that I cannot do a myriad of
other horrible things to you," he warned, waving his wand threateningly, "but
for now I shall refrain from doing so as long as you stay quiet and keep out of
my way. If I want to have any hope at reversing what that old fool has done,
I'll need peace and quiet. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Fred said now able to speak, hands raised in an exaggerated fashion
as he slowly backed out of the room.
"Quiet as mice." George supplied.
"Won't even know we're here."
The two linked arms as they quickly scurried away.
Voldemort let out a deep breath, weariness overcoming his frustration.
Honestly, he did not have time to deal with those two. If he wanted to fix this
mess he needed to start researching now. To that end, he headed to the library.
 
"Did you see the look on his face?" George asked after they had settled in one
of the bedrooms. They laid next to each other on the same bed, staring together
at the ceiling.
"Bloody scary." Fred replied.
"Thought he was going to kill us."
"Thought we were dead men."
"And those eyes."
"Yeah, those eyes are freaky."
"Terrifying."
". . ."
". . ."
Fred turned his head to look at George. ". . . But they were also, you know,
kind of sexy, right?"
George turned to look back at Fred, a wicked grin on his face. "Totally."
"Sent shivers down my spine they did."
"Made my nether regions tingle."
"I mean could you imagine . . . "
"I can imagine."
". . . them staring at you as he pounds into you?"
"Fucking you hard."
"And rough."
"Until you can't take anymore."
"Until you're hoarse from yelling his name."
"And don't even get me started on that tongue."
"Like a snake's."
"Who knows what he could do with that thing?"
"I know what I want him to do with that thing."
Their eyes were lit up as they looked at each other, sprouting identical grins
that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
"This is madness." George stated.
"We're going to do it anyway, right?"
"Definitely."
And then Fred and George Weasley began to plan the seduction of the Dark Lord
Voldemort.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------
"Lunchtime!"
"Oh great and powerful Dark Lord, it's time for lunch!"
"Olly olly oxen free!"
Voldemort cringed as he heard the twins approaching his library. Apparently it
was now lunchtime. He had been so focused on his research that he had missed
both dinner and breakfast. Worse still, he had made no progress in figuring out
how to reverse Dumbledore's spell.
He braced for impact. Three, two, one . . .
"Oh Voldermoooooort!" Fred said in greeting as he burst into the room.
"Time to eeeeeeeeeeat!" George followed.
Voldemort glared. "I thought I made it clear that I was not to be disturbed."
"Aww, come oooon, we're just trying to be nice." George said.
"Can't you stand to spend just a little time with your new bondmates?"
"Besides, the sooner you eat with us the sooner you can get back to your
studies."
The twins smiled innocently, fooling no one.
Voldemort sighed. It seemed his new housemates would not leave him alone until
he ate with them. He could in theory use magic to incapacitate them, but until
he figured out exactly how this bond worked it was best to err on the side of
caution. Besides, now that he was closer to being a normal human again, he
needed to get in the habit of feeding his human needs.
And so Voldemort rose, and followed the red-headed imps to the dining room.
 
The lunch provided by the Weasley twins had a simple menu of soup and
sandwiches. The two redheads seated themselves next to each other across the
table from Voldemort. As they sat down the they began to probe Voldemort for
information.
"So what are you working on?"
"Tell me everything about yourself, leave nothing out."
While initially annoyed by the Weasleys' antics, Voldemort was surprised to
find that when he did speak, the twins listened silently and with rapt
attention. Like there was nothing they would rather do than listen to him talk.
The Weasley twins, on the other hand, were pleased to see Voldemort's chest
puff out slightly as he continued to speak.
Voldemort was just beginning to tell the boys about his accomplishments as Head
Boy at Hogwarts when George broke the calm by somehow spilling his soup on his
lap.
"Shit!" He yelled as he jump up, knocking over his drink in the process.
"Crap!" Fred exclaimed as his trousers were covered with lemonade, standing up
as well.
"Bloody hell, look at us, we're a mess."
"Yeah, great job, George."
Voldemort rose from his seat with his wand drawn, intent on stopping a fight
before it could begin.
"Wait! We've got it." George exclaimed. Voldemort paused, eyes on the twins.
"You don't go into our line of work without learning how to clean a few
spills." Fred said in explanation.
"What was that spell again?"
"Peribitium!"
The stains vanished. Along with the rest of the boys' cloths.
"Well Fred, you've done it now." George said, grinning.
"Hey! The stains are gone aren't they?"
Voldemort, meanwhile, stood stunned with his mouth hanging slightly open. They
boys in front of him were striking. Tall, slim, with just enough muscle to
escape being called skinny. They had pale, creamy skin dotted artfully with
freckles, and while they were mostly free of body hair, they had identical
happy trails leading enticingly to identical hanging packages. But perhaps the
most attractive part of the twins persona was the confident, almost cocky way
they carried themselves while nude. Their lack of clothes in no way diminished
their bold, fun-loving personalities: if anything, it enhanced them.
"But now we're naked in front of Voldemort," George pouted.
"Our new bondmate doesn't mind." Fred said, moving behind, and extremely close
to, George. "I'm sure he thinks you are just as handsome as I do," he continued
as he wrapped his left arm around George, lay his hand just below George's
navel, and simultaneously put his chin on George's shoulder, "don't you,
Voldemort?"
Voldemort tried to form a response, but all that came out were a few choking
sounds from the back of his throat. He could not figure out where to put his
attention: the leer on Fred's face, the way George was biting his lip, or
Fred's left pointer finger which was playing with the top of George's happy
trail.
"Well, there's no crying over spilt milk," Fred said. "Besides, we said we'd
take a shower after lunch anyway, so having clothes would really just get in
the way."
"I suppose you have a point, Fred," George acknowledged. "Let's go."
With that, George grabbed Fred's hand and they strolled out of the room, with
their linked hands swinging merrily between them.
It took a moment for Voldemort to recover from the sight of the twins' pert
asses and the picture of them wet and naked that had formed in his mind. Once
he began to process what had happened, he began to seethe. Then he started to
pace. Those boys had practically been mocking him. And what had he done? He
just stood there like a shell-shocked virgin. They had left him stunned and
humiliated.
His eyes glowed red, then he raised his wand and proceeded to destroy
everything in sight.
 
"Do you think it worked, George?" Fred asked as he washed down George's back.
A loud boom echoed through the manor as it shook ever so slightly.
"If nothing else, I think we got his attention," answered George.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------
After Voldemort had vented his rage, he returned to the library, more intent
than ever on reversing their curse. A few hours later, however, he threw a book
in frustration, as he was unable to concentrate on the words before him. His
mind kept wandering to the twins. To their sly grins. Their cute, dimpled
asses. Their long, playful fingers. Their firm, round asses. Their long,
lickable necks.
And those asses.
Voldemort had not felt lust for quite some time, not since he had first split
his soul. Now it raged within him with the force of a wildfire.
Fuck this, Voldemort thought. He was Lord Voldemort for Christ's sake. When he
wanted something, he took it. And right now, he wanted those twins. His twins.
His bondmates. It was time to show them who was in charge.
A feral grin overtook his face as he began to hunt.
 
It was not hard to find the room the boys had chosen to occupy. It was almost
as if he could smell them out. Without warning he burst into the room, intent
on claiming his new bondmates. Then his tracked slowed, shocked at the sight
before him.
Both boys were on the bed, still stark naked. George lay on his chest with his
ass in the air right in Voldemort line of sight. Voldemort could just make out
George's face at the head of the bed, as it was turned to one side resting upon
a pillow. His face was sweaty and desperate, and he was mumbling
incomprehensibly.
Fred on the other hand was sitting upright, left of George's ass, his entire
body facing Voldemort. His legs were spread wide, with his knees and lower legs
hanging over the edge of the bed. And his left middle finger was sliding
rhythmically in and out of George's ass, aided by the combination of lubricant
and sweat that surrounded George's pucker.
"It's about time," Fred said, pouting without slowing his fingering of George's
sloppy hole, "look at how desperate he is for you."
As if to corroborate Fred's statement, George let out a needy whine and began
to mumble louder, "Fuck me, need you, so good, want cock, so horny . . . "
Voldemort could feel his cock harden and started to rub it through his robes
almost unconsciously.
"Well come on, then," Fred said as he moved backwards on the bed, "you're not
going to let him suffer any longer, are you?"
With that said Fred rose onto his knees and put both of his hands on George's
asscheeks, spreading George's buttocks for Voldemort. His eyes looked daringly
at Voldemort as he started to lick Georges lower back.
Voldemort snapped. He clutched at the front of his robes, then used wandless
magic to rip all his clothes off with one jerk of his arm. His cock, thin but 8
and 1/2 inches long, curved aggressively upward, hard and ready. With a fierce
growl his slammed home in one thrust, causing George to cry out.
It was ecstasy. Slick and hot, yet somehow still tight around his cock.
Voldemort gave George no time to even catch his breath before pulling backwards
then slamming back in, fucking him hard and fast like a jackhammer. His hands
gripped George's thighs with strength enough to bruise, and his head was tilted
upward in victory. The sound of his thighs smacking against George's buttocks
echoed loudly throughout the room.
Fred took a brief moment to admire his new lover as he repositioned himself of
the bed. Voldemort's snake-like face could easily be described as frightening
or intimidating, but his high cheekbones also made him quite handsome. There
was no hair to be found on his body, but with abs that well defined, now
glistening with sweat as they undulated , there was still no doubt he was sexy
as hell.
Then Fred, having gotten his head underneath George, started to suck George's
cock as he masturbated to sound of Voldemort's poundings.
The smells and sounds of sex filled the room as their vigorous sexcapades
continued. The mattress squeaked as George was propelled forward by Voldemort's
thrusts. The smacking sounds of flesh on flesh were soon joined by Voldemort's
hiss-like panting as he kept an exhausting pace. Fred slurped and hummed around
George's dick as if it was his purpose in life. All the while George, never
having felt so full or so hot in his life, continued to softly moan and cry,
"harder, ugh . . . so ahhhhh! . . . fuck, fuck . . . almost there . . .
faster!"
As Voldemort felt his climax approaching, he managed to speed up his onslaught
even further, frenzied now, and Fred's sucking and stroking sped up to match.
Faster, and faster, and faster. They trio became crazed, wild, as they rode the
waves of pleasure to climax.
"Now . . . here we . . . cum!" Voldemort yelled as he climaxed, flooding George
with his cum. And for the first time, the twins obeyed, shooting in tandem with
their dominate bondmate. Fred sucked eagerly as he tried to drink all of
George's cum, but some spilled onto his chin regardless, just as his own cum
sprayed his abdomen.
For a moment they stayed in place, panting. Soon however, the boys collapsed,
and laid boneless on the bed with various limbs overlapping and cum still
leaking out of George's hole.
Voldemort, unsure of what to do, wordlessly summoned his wand. With a few
spells he cleaned the three of them and redressed himself, and then he left the
room.
The twins lay for a while in silence, content to recover from their recent
screwing. George spoke up first.
"Fuck."
"You said it George."
Chapter End Notes
     So this is my first work and I think it's going okay, but I'm
     desperate for feedback. What do you like? What do you not like? Am I
     somewhat good at this or should I just give up now? Please leave
     comments with your constructive criticism, I can take it. I want to
     become a better writer, but I need your help.
***** Albus/Cormac Part I *****
Chapter Notes
     Bolded orders indicate that the compulsion part of the bond has been
     activated. In Cormac's case, he can refuse an order, but it does take
     some effort.
Dumbledore's house in Wimbourne was not, as many would expect, a mansion. While
it was certainly spacious, it was not large enough to be considered even a
manor. But to Albus Dumbledore, 533 Baker's End was home.
Albus lead the way into the entrance hall with Cormac trailing silently behind
him. Cormac had barely said anything on the hill or since the apparition over,
worrying Albus.
"Mimsy," Dumbledore called.
"Yes sir," said a small, female house elf wearing a rubber-ducky shower curtain
who had appeared out of nowhere.
"Mimsy, this is Mr. Cormac McLaggen, if you could prepare towels and perhaps
some food for him?"
"Yes, sir, right away sir," she replied, disappearing back inside the house.
Dumbledore turned around to address Cormac. The boy's face was hung low, and
his body was clearly tense.
"It has been a long day, Mr. McLaggen. Would you like some food, or to go to
bed, or perhaps a shower?" He asked.
Cormac's clenched his fists at his side. "What the fuck does it matter!" He
screamed, face turning red. "My life is over! And it's your fault!" He took a
step towards Dumbledore, making eye contact for the first time in some while.
"I know," Dumbledore said calmly, looking ashamed and for the first time,
remorseful.
Not just ashamed though, Cormac noticed. Dumbledore looked all together
different. It was as if someone had taken a Dumbledore balloon and deflated it.
There was no twinkle in his eye, no all-knowing gaze. Gone was the larger-than-
life headmaster that presided over the school. In its place a tired, haggard,
and almost frail looking old man. This sudden change in the headmaster startled
Cormac out of his rage.
"I know this must be unbelievably difficult for you, Mr. McLaggen. And I
promise I will let you yell at me as much as you like tomorrow. For right now,
however, will you let me show you to your room?" Dumbledore looked imploringly
at Cormac.
Cormac nodded his head, obviously trying very hard to hold himself together. So
he followed the headmaster up the stairs to the third door on the right. The
room was decorated with grays and purples, and had a nice queen size bed. Like
many guest rooms, it was almost too tidy. It was one of those guest rooms that
was so well put together that it was uncomfortable, like it was asking someone
to sleep in the bedroom display of a department store.
"That door there leads to a bathroom," Dumbledore said. "And what else. Ah, I
know," he thought aloud before transfiguring some cushions into pajamas and a
change of clothes. "I hope these will do for now, of course we can have your
own clothes sent soon. Mimsy should be up soon with food. Is there anything
else you would like tonight?" Dumbledore asked, clearly trying to please.
Cormac thought that he would like all this to have been a nightmare. But after
looking at the professor's face he merely replied, "No thank you."
"Right then. If you do need anything I am at the end of the hall, and of course
you are always welcome to call Mimsy."
Dumbledore walked to the doorway as if to leave, then paused and turned to face
McLaggen once more.
"I truly am sorry, Mr. McLaggen," he said. Then he turned once again and exited
the room.
Cormac McLaggen didn't know what to think. He was not sure whether to be angry
or sad, and while he knew who to blame, he had no idea how to approach his new
bondmate. Who was Albus Dumbledore really? It looked like he had no choice but
to find out.
Meanwhile, down the hall Dumbledore let out a deep sigh as he entered his room.
Nothing had gone exactly as planned. The lives of all those men had been
permanently altered, possibly ruined because him.
Including McLaggen's, he thought. Dumbledore could not stop his heart from
speeding up as he thought about the young Gryffindor. Tall with wiry dirty-
blond hair, Cormac may not be as pretty as Mr. Diggory, but he was still easily
one of the most sought-after boys at Hogwarts. And while he lacked charm, his
body was the envy of many, with large, well-developed muscles that were just
short of being bulky and washboard abs that made everyone swoon. Yes, Cormac
McLaggen may still be a boy, but he definitely had a man's body.
A part of Dumbledore — a part that he was not proud of — was excited at the
prospect at being Cormac's bondmate. He expected, however, that Mr. McLaggen
was less enthused. So while he could not fix the fates of the others affected
by the spell, he vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure
McLaggen's well-being. He at least owed him that.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------
Breakfast was an awkward affair, with little conversation peppered with
logistical decisions and many owls. After breakfast, Dumbledore continued to
reorganizing the wizarding world via mail and fire-calls while Mimsy showed
Cormac around the house. Eventually, the pair reunited for lunch, which was no
less awkward than the earlier meal.
"As you are aware Mr. McLaggen," Dumbledore started after their plates had been
cleared, "we will soon need to have sex."
McLaggen visibly flinched, making Dumbledore's chest clinch.
"I'm just . . . not attracted to you, professor," he replied, looking anywhere
but at the elderly wizard.
"I know that I am an old man," Dumbledore said honestly, "I cannot begin to
know what this might be like for you. But if you try to relax and try to trust
me, I promise I will do everything I can to make this as bearable for you as
possible."
Cormac could feel the orders wash over him and his body instantly relaxed. He
thought he should be angry with Dumbledore for manipulating his emotions, but
something about Dumbledore's sincerity made it difficult to be cross with him.
He was still furious of course. He was furious, and devastated, and frustrated,
and scared. But he was not mad at Dumbledore, at least not at that moment.
They agreed to meet that evening in Dumbledore's room. And after a dinner
filled with an almost palpable silence, that is exactly what they did.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------
"Your room is nice," McLaggen offered as he stood inside the master bedroom for
the first time. And it was true: this bedroom, softly lit by a fireplace and a
few candles, felt lived in, and had a hominess to it that his guest room sorely
lacked.
"Thank you very much," Dumbledore said kindly, sensing McLaggen's nervousness.
"Now relax, and trust me. I promise, if there is anything you do not like, let
me know and we will stop immediately. I will lead, but you have the power here.
Understood?"
McLaggen nodded, letting Dumbledore's commands help him relax.
"Good, now why don't you lie down on the bed, face down. You don't have to take
your clothes off, just lie down."
McLaggen did as he was told. Even with his Muggle clothing still on, his strong
frame made for an impressive sight as it took up a sizable portion of the bed.
Dumbledore did his best to control his arousal.
"Now, close your eyes, and again, try to relax," Dumbledore ordered as he sat
down on the bed next to McLaggen.
Dumbledore began by messaging McLaggen's upper back. For an elderly man, he had
surprising strong, warm hands. It actually felt quite nice, McLaggen thought.
The message continued for few minutes until Dumbledore could tell McLaggen was
more at ease.
"May I remove your shirt?" Dumbledore asked, slowing down. After a pause,
McLaggen nodded and began to rise so as to take his shirt of when he felt his
shirt disappear.
"I am a very powerful wizard, Mr. McLaggen." Cormac could hear the smile in
Dumbledore's voice and tried to keep himself from blushing. He buried his face
into the pillow, concentrating instead on the feeling of Dumbledore's hands on
his back.
Eventually, Dumbledore's hands made their way to his lower back, then made the
leap to his jeans-clad thigh. The hands moved up and down his legs as the
message continued, until they slowed once again.
"Mr. McLaggen?"
Cormac answered the unasked question by nodding into his pillow, then felt the
air on his bare backside for the first time that night.
And what a backside it was, Dumbledore thought. Muscled, with a scattering of
brown hair, McLaggen's arse was truly a work of art. His hands trembled at he
placed his hands on the globes for the first time. He then took his time
squeezing, and rubbing, and fondling them before asking McLaggen to rise on his
knees. With a terrible blush, McLaggen complied.
Dumbledore repositioned himself behind McLaggen, took the mounds in hand, and
gently spread them apart, revealing the perfect hole. He took his time getting
there. First puffing a hot breath on it. The laying a kiss on one cheek. Then
licking the other. Then giving a soft nip. All while messaging that amazing
arse.
McLaggen meanwhile, was slowly coming undone. The combination of hot, moist,
and scratchy sensations made by Dumbledore's mouth on him had managed to made
him fully erect. But that was nothing compared to the pleasure he felt when
Dumbledore finally, finally, started licking his hole. He tried biting his lip,
but still could not help but release audible pants and small moans of approval.
Judging by the warmth in his face, he knew that it must have been beet red, and
his cock became achingly hard. He longed to move an arm and start stroking it,
but somehow he knew Dumbledore would not like that, and in that moment he
desperately wanted Dumbledore's approval.
Eventually Dumbledore relented, and placed a warm, lubed hand on McLaggen's
dick as he dipped his tongue in the boy's hole for the first time. He was
rewarded with a deep moan from McLaggen as he began to tongue-fuck his new
bondmate while stoking him. The stokes increased in speed as McLaggen's
breathing quickened, and it was not long before he was covered in a thin layer
of sweat.
It should not be long now, Dumbledore thought, as he ate McLaggen's arse out
with reckless abandon and rubbed his dick. Then, with short cry of pleasure,
McLaggen cock began shooting: one, two, three, four shots of cum onto
Dumbledore's hand and the bed below. McLaggen, flushed and exhausted, waited
for Dumbledore to stop stroking him, then dropped his arse down onto the bed as
he recovered. He vaguely felt the sensation of a cleaning spell go over him,
but was brought out of his own mind only when his pajamas from home, simple
cotton pants and a tight T-shirt, appeared upon his person. He tuned to look at
Dumbledore, but was too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
"Is everything alright, Mr. McLaggen?"
"Yes, sir. Or, professor?" He replied, not sure how to address this man
anymore.
"I would like it very much if you were to call me Albus. May I call you
Cormac?"
Cormac blushed. "Yes, sir. I mean, Albus." Finally looking Albus in the eye, he
realized that Dumbledore was still wearing the same robes. Suddenly feeling
very selfish, he asked, "What about you? You didn't — ?"
Albus held up a hand. "It is fine, Cormac. As I'm sure you have noticed, I am a
bit older than you. I do not require quite as much . . . attention."
This was not entirely true. Albus had been more aroused in the last hour than
he had been in decades. But he was determined to keep things going at a pace
that suited Cormac.
Cormac nodded in response.
"I think it is time for me to retire for the night," Albus said after a beat of
silence, "if you would like to stay, you are more than welcome to do so. Or of
course you may sleep in your room, it is completely your choice."
Although he hid it very well, Cormac could tell Albus wanted him to stay. And
while he was still not entirely comfortable around his new bondmate, somehow
right then, in that bed, he was beginning to feel at home for the first time
since entering the house.
Thus for the first time, Albus Dumbledore and Cormac McLaggen slept in the same
bed, side-by-side.
***** Ron/Lucius Part I *****
Chapter Notes
     bolded words means compulsion has been activated. In Lucius' case,
     Ron has complete power over him
     So most of my characters will somewhat resemble how they are in the
     books. Ron is an exception. He's just going to be a dick.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"This is a fucking nightmare!" Lucius Malfoy yelled upon entering his manor.
"That dammed bloody old fool, playing around with our lives. Now look at me,
bonded to a half-witted ginger from a family of blood traitors," he said,
giving his new houseguest Ronald Weasley a look of utmost loathing.
"Shut up Malfoy!" Ron ordered, his voice reverberating around the ornate foyer.
Lucius quieted immediately. He started to visibly vibrate as he attempted to
speak, but Ron's order held absolute. Lucius' face began to turn red and his
eyes widened; it looked as though it might explode from the anger and
frustration building within him.
Ron smirked. "That's right, Malfoy. I am the dominant partner here. That means
you have to do what I say."
Malfoy reached for his wand.
"Stop!" Ron yelled. Lucius froze as if petrified. "Nice try, Malfoy, now hand
over the wand."
Lucius looked murderous as he handed his wand to Ron.
"Good. Now I'm just going to set this right over here," Ron said as he placed
the wand on a nearby mantle, "where it will stay unless I say otherwise. Got it
Malfoy?"
"Understood," Lucius answered, finally able to speak, "You filthy, imbecilic,
penniless . . ."
"Enough!" Ron cut him off. "I don't think you get it yet, Malfoy. I own you.
You're my bitch. Now get on your knees you fucking bastard!"
Lucius Malfoy fell to his knees, humiliated in the middle of his own foyer. He
had never been so angry in his entire life. He looked up at the tall, lean
redhead with hate in his eyes.
Ron crossed his arms and raised his chin. "Now, lick my crotch, Malfoy," he
ordered with a devilish grin on his face.
Lucius tried with everything he had to refuse the order. But his body was out
of his control. He scooted forward on his knees towards Ron, closing the few
foot gap between them until his nose was but a centimeter from Ron's trousers.
Then he stuck his tongue out, and began to lick.
Lucius' face burned red with shame and rage. The rough material the trousers
felt coarse against his tongue. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears as
his heartbeat increased to a frantic rhythm.
Ron on the other hand was on a high like no other. The heat and friction caused
Malfoy lapping at his drawers was quickly making him hard, and the sight of
Lucius Malfoy on his knees was just delicious. It wasn't long before he needed
to move to the next level.
"Now take my cock out and suck my dick."
Tears began to form in Lucius' eyes as his hands unbuttoned Ron's pants. Then
he lowered the zipper and pulled the pants down to knee level. His eyes widened
as he saw the bulge barely concealed by a pair of grey cotton boxer-briefs.
Then his hands moved again, lowering the underpants, finally coming face to
face with the dark red hairs of Ron's crotch, which framed his impressive
eight-inch cock. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and began to suck.
Ron hissed as he felt Lucius take him in his mouth for the first time. It was
so hot and wet, and the sucking felt so good. Even the noises Lucius made as he
slurped on his dick were arousing. His head rolled back as he enjoyed the
sensations, periodically giving "tips" such as "No teeth," "deeper," or "play
with my balls." Soon he couldn't resist reaching down and carding his fingers
through Lucius' silky platinum blonde hair as he was sucked off.
The ecstasy was almost overwhelming, but still Ron wanted more. His grip
tightened in Lucius' hair, and he began to impale the former death eater with
shallow bucking motions. Tears spilled down Lucius' face as his chocking noises
were muffled by Ron's dick.
"Lay on your back." Without Ron's cock ever leaving his mouth, Lucius laid back
on the cold marble floor. Ron positioned himself on top of Lucius and began to
thunderfuck his mouth with abandon. Ass bouncing up and down as he thrust into
the steamy cavern again and again. Beneath him Lucius' lips, now red and
swollen, did their best to suck in time but were easily outpaced by the
redheaded youth.
"So good." Ron panted, as his continued fucking Lucius' face. "So good." Slap,
slap, pant, slurp. "So close." Thrust, thrust, slurp, suck. "So good . . . so
close . . . fucking swallow it all!" Ron roared as he thrust hard and deep into
the awaiting receptacle. Lucius quickly gulped down Ron's cum, so as not to
spill a drop.
Ron collapsed on top of Lucius while the elder wizard continued to suckle
gently on his softening cock. He let this continue for a few seconds, enjoying
his post-orgasmic bliss, before ordering Malfoy to stop and rising to his feet.
"That was amazing Malfoy," Ron said with a huge smile as he pulled his trousers
back up. He looked down at the man still laying on the floor. "Why don't you
rest for a while, then get us some food. Meet me in your, well my, bedroom."
With that Ron turned around and began his search for the master bedroom that
would be his new home.
Lucius lay crumbled on the floor. His throat was sore and his eyes burned with
humiliation. He felt degraded and dirty and used. This was easily the worst
night of his life. His knees were sore and his clothes were rumbled. His bangs
were damp and tangled.
But that was not the worst part. The thing he hated the most was that he
couldn't forget the salty taste of Ron's cock. Or the musky scent of his
crotch. Or the heat he felt when their skin touched.
And he absolutely refused to think about the fact the he was bone-achingly
hard. And dripping.
Chapter End Notes
     Feedback . . . need feedback . . .
***** Ron/Lucius Part II *****
Chapter Notes
     bolded words means compulsion has been activated. In Lucius' case,
     Ron has complete power over him
Locating the master bedroom in Malfoy manor took even longer than Ron expected.
Along the way he found a library, a ballroom, multiple sitting rooms, and a set
of descending stairs that almost certainly led to a dungeon. He briefly
considered asking the portraits for help, but if their constant muttering and
dirty looks were anything to go by, he doubted they would be of much help.
Finally, upon locating a plush room with an enormous canopy bed, he knew he had
reached his destination.
After washing his face in the adjoining bathroom, Ron flung himself on the bed
and began to consider his new life as the king of the Malfoy estate.
Presumably, Lucius had spent time on this bed thinking about the same thing,
maybe even with Narcissa next to him (who was, according to Dumbledore, off
with a large group of female witches who had been affected by the spell as
well). Now, however, Ron held the crown. He was the one charge.
Ron grinned sloppily as he thought about what had happened in the foyer. Malfoy
sure did make for one excellent cocksucker. His dick had never felt so good as
it did in Malfoy's steamy mouth. Plus there were those eyes, grey and piercing.
When those eyes looked at him, filled with fury and arousal — for he did in
fact notice Lucius' hard-on — Ron was turned on in a way he never had been
before. Just thinking about those eyes made him want to play with Lucius even
more. To that end, Ron lay back on the impossibly comfortable bed and let his
imagination run wild.
 
Lucius on the other hand knew exactly how to get to the master bedroom. While
walking towards the bedroom for the first time since being mated to the young
Weasley, that information was particularly useful as it allowed him to traverse
the manor with his head down, thus avoiding eye contact with the portraits of
his ancestors. Much to his chagrin, he carried a tray of food in front of him,
having visited the house elves to acquire the meal that Ron requested. The
platter of rotisserie chicken, gravy, and carrots certainly smelled delicious,
even if he was too worked up to eat himself.
Just a few hours ago he was one of the most feared wizards in the UK. As a
member of Voldemort's inner circle, he demanded respect and subservience from
everyone around him. Now look him, catering to the whims of a seventeen-year-
old blood traitor. He doubted he could sink much lower.
Yet he couldn't stop the wave of arousal that came over him when he thought
about the young, fit, virile redhead.
As Lucius tried valiantly to squash all feeling of attraction, he entered what
had once been his been bedroom.
His eyes immediately fixated on Ron, who was stretched out on the bed with his
hands behind his head, looking for all the world like that was something he did
all the time. He was dressed only in his grey, clearly cheap, boxer-briefs and
black socks, leaving his strong, pale chest on display. Lucius sneered at the
plebian display as he approached the bed.
Ron grinned, unperturbed. "Awesome. I'm starving."
Lucius resisted the urge to dump the tray over Ron's head. Really, the brat had
some nerve. "How terrible it would be if you were to die of hunger," he said
dryly. "I hardly think the wizarding world could survive the loss." With that
he slammed the tray down on the bed and turned to exit the room, intent on
leaving the room as soon as possible.
"Wait!" Ron yelled as Lucius reached the door. Lucius froze. He cursed to
himself — he almost made it out the door. Then he squared his shoulders, and
slowly pivoted back towards Ron, shooting him the darkest look he muster. They
red-headed seemed unfazed.
"I'm hungry," the redhead said in a slow, patronizing tone, as if trying to
explain something to a child. "Feed me."
"You must be joking," Lucius said, the threat of violence dripping in every
word. To his frustration, the compulsion to go back the bed took over his mind
and he began walking back towards the boy. "What the hell are you playing at
you empty-headed cretin?"
"I'm hungry and I'm tired," Ron explained as Lucius rearranged himself and the
food tray, sitting himself near Ron's head so that he could complete the
assigned task. "Is it really too much to ask my new bondmate to give me some
food? Use your hands." He ordered as Lucius picked up the utensils.
With murder in his eyes Lucius slowly put the utensils down. Then, as quick as
he could he ripped off a piece chicken and shoved it roughly onto Ron's mouth.
"Mmmpf — hey!" Ron yelled as he slapped Lucius' hand away. He glared at Lucius,
all signs of amusement gone from his face. "Do it slower. Do it properly." He
ordered.
Lucius almost had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, but he knew that
yelling would not do him any good. He matched Ron's glare with his own as he
pulled another, much smaller, piece of perfectly juicy chicken off the bone.
Then he moved his hand towards Ron's mouth — now open and waiting, even as he
continued to stare crossly as Lucius — and placed the chicken inside as Ron's
lips closed around his fingers and gently sucked.
Lucius jerked his hand away as if scalded. Ron seemed not to have noticed, his
eyes closed in pleasure and the grin back on his face as he chewed his food.
With a large gulp he cleared his throat. "Again," he demanded, then opened his
mouth widely while his eyes stayed closed, clearly relaxed.
And so Lucius, once again humiliated, began to feed Ron his chicken, piece by
piece. He felt angry and emasculated, but couldn't help the spike of arousal
that would come over him every time Ron's hot mouth sucked on one of his
fingers. Lucius continued to slowly feed the younger wizard, while desperate
trying to hide his arousal, until the chicken was almost gone.
Then Lucius' stomach growled. Loudly.
Ron's eyes snapped open. He stared blankly a Lucius for a second, thinking, and
then he grinned wildly.
Lucius blanched.
"Sounds like you're pretty hungry, Malfoy," Ron said teasingly with a dangerous
glint in his eye, "but don't worry, there is plenty of food here for you.
Here," Ron picked up one of the warm, buttery, six-inch long carrots and held
it in front of Lucius' face, "suck."
Fuck no, Lucius thought, enraged. He fought helplessly against the compulsion,
while at the same time wrapping his lips around his teeth, leaning forward, and
deep-throating the vegetable. Then, to Ron's amusement, he began to suck.
"Good job," Ron whispered as Lucius' face bobbed up and down on the carrot,
clearly turned on. "Such a good cocksucker."
Lucius' face turned red as he continued to be both complimented and insulted by
the perverse blood-traitor. Then, to his horror, Ron began to move the carrot
back in forth. Forced to keep up with the moving carrot, Lucius had no choice
but to get on his hand and knees.
"That's it Malfoy," Ron said encouragingly, as he moved the carrot about,
loving the view of Lucius rocking back and forth on his hands and knees, "keep
your mouth on the carrot. That's it. Keep sucking. Keeeeep sucking. Now eat the
carrot, Malfoy."
Lucius bit down on the carrot and quickly chewed. Finally he swallowed, let out
a gasp, and fought to catch his breath, his chest heaving. He stayed on his
hands and knees with his head hung low in shame until he could breathe normally
again, then looked up.
Lucius' eyes widened and his face paled.
Ron sat in front of him with another carrot dangling from his hand and a
triumphant smile on his face. "Suck, Malfoy."
And so they continued, Lucius sucking on the carrots Ron moved around with his
hand until Ron felt satisfied enough to let Lucius eat. At one point, they even
left the bed, Ron forcing Lucius to crawl across the floor to keep his mouth on
the carrot. Seven carrots later, they were back on the bed with Ron moving the
carrot in a brand new direction: up.
"Come on, Malfoy," Ron said as he slowly rose upwards, "keep sucking."
Ron stood fully on top of the bed with his arm angled only slightly downward,
forcing Lucius to rise off his hands and stretch as high as he could while
still on his knees. With his face now tilted towards the ceiling to continue
sucking on the dangling carrot, Lucius' imagined that he must look like a dog
begging for food. He prayed silently that this torture would be over soon,
tying to ignore his hard, throbbing cock that desperately needed attention.
What Lucius did not immediately realize was that the new position fully exposed
his prominent erection to Ron's view.
"Wow, Malfoy, you're really getting off on this," Ron commented when he noticed
the sizable bulge in Lucius' trousers. "You're even harder than I am. What a
slut."
Lucius, still sucking the carrot hanging from Ron's hand, closed his eyes,
wishing that he could refute Ron's accusation. He wished that he could shout
and yell and curse they boy into oblivion. But more than anything, he wished
that someone, anyone, would bring his cock to orgasm.
"I can't hold out any longer. Malfoy, get our dicks out." Ron commanded. He
forgot, however, to tell Lucius to stop sucking the carrot, which created some
difficulty for the blond wizard. Ron thought about correcting his mistake, but
was too amused by Lucius as he ungracefully tried to rid himself of his pants
while on his knees, sucking the carrot. Finally, Lucius' trousers came off,
revealing his decent sized cock, strong thighs, and blond pubes. Ron's grey
boxer-briefs were easy to remove in comparison, and were gone short order.
Ron, now completely naked, was terribly turned on by sight of Lucius half-
naked, wearing only his dress shirt and tailcoat while exposed from the waist
down, and filed the image away for further use.
"Eat the carrot, quickly." He ordered. Lucius complied. "Now suck my dick."
Lucius lurched and took Ron's entire length into his mouth, and began working
Ron's dick as if he had been sucking cock his entire life. Despite being
exceptionally horny himself, he made no move stroke his own shaft, refusing to
admit defeat. Instead, he focused on bringing Ron to climax as quickly as
possible, hopefully bringing this awful day to an end sooner.
Ron, on the other hand, was having the best sexual experience of his entire
life. He grabbed Lucius by his soft blond hair and repositioned them on the
bed. Ron laid on his back with Lucius in-between his open legs and Lucius'
hands on his thighs. This gave him the perfect view of his cock disappearing
into and reappearing from Lucius' mouth.
Ron's heart sped up as orgasm approached at a rapid pace. Then, almost without
warning he erupted into Lucius mouth as he was sucked dry for the second time
that day. He let Lucius nurse his cock a bit, then decided let him get some
air.
"You can stop now." Ron said. In the afterglow of the best orgasm of his life,
he was not quick enough to prevent Lucius from fleeing the room.
 
Lucius escaped to a hard to find guest room, called for a house elf to fit him
in proper bedclothes, and crawled into bed. He curled himself into a ball,
hands clutching his pillow harshly as if they were talons. He did this partly
out of wrath, but mostly to prevent himself from stroking his hard-on. His own
body may have betrayed him, but he refused to submit to his new circumstances.
Or to that ginger brat.
The problem was, he was so horny.
Fuck it, he thought as he reached into his pants and began to stoke himself.
Seconds later, he spurted cum all over his hand and into his pants. It was only
then that he realized he had no method of cleaning himself, and so he went to
sleep soiled but relieved.
 
Ron laid stretched out on the luxury canopy bed, sated but longing for more.
Ordering Lucius to take care of his need had been satisfying, yet empty in some
way. It was almost too easy. Sure he could compel Lucius to fulfill his every
fantasy, but deep down he wanted more. He wanted to own Lucius, for Lucius to
choose to submit to him of his own free will. He wanted to see the look on
Lucius' face when he chose to take dick up his arse. To see the fire in his
eyes as followed orders resentfully, but without compulsion.
Gleefully, he began to plot.
***** Voldemort/Twins Part II *****
Chapter Summary
     Bolded orders indicate that the compulsion part of the bond has been
     activated. In the twins's case, they can easily throw off any order
     if they want to.
Voldemort returned to his library feeling dazed and confused. He couldn't
believe that he had lost control like that. Those boys just looked and felt so
incredible, he could not help but get swept up in their antics.
But no more. He could not waste any more time playing with his twins. He needed
to focus on lifting the curse so he could move forward with his plans. And he
vowed he would stay in the library until he did just that.
 
The Weasley twins played hard, and they slept even harder. Sprawled all over
the bed and each other, sawing logs until midday, they were for all intents and
purposes dead to the world. They woke up together, groggy and hungry, so they
showered and ran to the kitchen.
"I don't know Fred, it might not be a good idea to push too hard. After all,
this is the Dark Lord Voldemort we're talking about." George said in between
bites of his ham and cheese sandwich.
"I'll concede that he can be a bit difficult," Fred acknowledged with a tilt of
his head, "but I think if there is anything last night proved it's that it is
worth the risk. Besides, I think there is one thing you're forgetting," Fred
said as he positioned himself behind George, sliding a hand down George's back
and into his trousers. "Our grumpy old snake-face has been inside you now,"
Fred whispered into George's ear as he stroked George's hole teasingly with his
middle finger, "trust me, that is not something that is easily forgotten. He'll
be wanting a second round in you soon enough, you mark my words," Fred stated
confidently, still teasing George, who had begun squirming and blushing
beautifully. "Of course, that will have to wait," Fred said as he abruptly
removed his hand from George's trousers.
"What, why?" George asked, startled and still beat red, sporting a small pout.
"Because it's my turn," Fred answered with a wicked smirk, as if the answer was
obvious.
 
Voldemort spent the morning in his library, trying desperately not to think
about his new bondmates and failing miserably. His frustration grew as time
went on, and was just about to start setting things on fire when he heard the
unmistakable sound of his twins at the library door.
"I can't believe he locked us out, George."
"That sexy, snake-faced bastard!"
Voldemort smirked, his mood instantly lifted upon hearing the twins voices
coming from outside the library. He almost wavered in his decision to ward the
library against their presence.
Almost.
Then the twins started banging on the door.
"Voldy-poo, let us come iiiii-iiiiin."
"Come on, Lord CuddlyWubbymort, open up"
Voldemort was torn between being amused by their antics and being annoyed at
their stupid nicknames. The twins' whining only served to strengthen his
resolve—he was the Dark Lord after all—he took pleasure and denying people what
they wanted. Besides, those terrors were completely unpredictable, who knows
what could happen to him and his library if he let them in.
Eventually the sounds from outside the library began to quiet down, then
disappeared altogether. Voldemort tried his best to feel relieved by this, but
could not keep a wave of gloom from washing over him as he found himself all
alone once again. Dumbledore's stupid curse was clearly effecting him more than
he thought.
CRACK!
Voldemort jumped to his feet, wand at the ready and ready to strike. His eyes
narrowed at the intruders, letting his anger and years of battle experience
fuel his actions.
"How the fuck did you get in here!" Voldemort yelled.
There, standing in the middle of the library looking for all the world like
they had always been there, were the Weasley twins. The smiled at Voldemort,
seemingly oblivious to his ire.
"We had one of the house-elves apperate us in here," Fred said, now sporting
one his trademark Cheshire-cat grins, "it's a trick Harry taught us."
Voldemort was flabbergasted. Once again, he found himself out-maneuvered by
those bratty twins. He tried to regain his composure, but was thwarted by Fred
who quickly closed the gap between them and pulled him into a searing kiss.
The Dark Lord barely stopped himself from moaning as he felt Fred's tongue
invade his mouth. Arousal quickly gave way to determination as Voldemort
decided to take back control. He wrapped one hand into Fred's hair and cupped
his ass with the other. Voldemort used his grip on Fred's hair to reposition
Fred's face below his own, allowing him to dominate the kiss. Meanwhile, George
snuck up behind Fred and began to remove Fred's clothing.
Soon Voldemort found himself making out with a stark naked, and clearly erect,
Fred Weasley.
Fred, on the other hand, was getting impatient. He was more turned on than he
could ever remember, and he could practically feel his hole twitching in
anticipation, eager for Voldemort's ample cock. He wrapped his arms around
Voldemort's neck and jumped up, wrapping his legs around Voldemort's waist. The
hand on his ass helped support his waist he latched on to Voldemort for dear
life, resolved not to let go until he was fully satisfied.
Fred's jump forced Voldemort slightly off balance, making him lean backwards.
George used this opportunity to corral the group backwards, until Voldemort's
chair hit the back of his knees. With a rather ungraceful flop, Voldemort fell
back into the chair, Fred straddling his lap all the while.
Determined to keep the ball rolling, Fred ground his hips into Voldemort's
groin, spurred onward by the felling of Voldemort's hard-on through his robes.
George, now naked himself, came up behind him and leaned over him to engage
Voldemort in another round of tongue wrestling.
They stayed in that position in a while, Fred writhing on Voldemort's lap as
George and Voldemort kissed and sucked at each other near his shoulder. Then,
as Voldemort stopped to catch his breath, he made eye contact with Fred, and
their eyes spoke in unison: time for action.
Voldemort took charge as he used his wandless magic to banish his own robes and
lubricate Fred's hole. He wrapped his hand around Fred's behind and began to
finger him, but Fred quickly pushed his arm away. He then grabbed Voldemort's
dick, angled it upward, and with a hiss lowered himself onto the rock hard
cock.
The tight heat was too much for Voldemort. He wrapped his arms tightly around
Fred's back and used his unnatural strength to help Fred on and off his cock.
Fred threw his head upward, lost in pleasure and incoherent, as Voldemort his
that perfect relentlessly over and over.
George, masturbating behind Fred, bent down to coax Fred into another heated
kiss.
It soon became clear that this session would also not last very long. The three
became covered in a thin sheen of sweat as they drew nearer to climax.
Voldemort's climax crashed into him with the force of a speeding train. He
clutched onto Fred's back with an iron grip as he emptied himself into the
velvety tunnel of Fred's ass. His orgasm was quickly followed by Fred and
Goerge's, resulting in Fred's stomach and back being covered with cum.
Fred, sated, full, and out of breath, leaned forward into Voldemort, letting
some of the cum in his ass spill onto Voldemort's thigh. George, however, stuck
to their pre-agreed on plan. This time, Voldemort would not be the one to leave
them alone and shell-shocked. He grabbed Fred by the underarm's, pulled him
upward, and began to gently drag him toward the exit. As they left, Fred, who
walked backwards rather shakily and with wobbly knees, smirked at Voldemort and
brought his arm up in a wave.
"Bye Lord CuddlyWubbymort," he said, mischief and triumph dancing in his eyes.
With that, the library door closed, leaving a thoroughly debouched dark lord
alone in his library.
 
"I wanted to stay longer," Fred whined into George's neck as the cuddled
together, still naked, on their bed. "I think he easily could have lasted a few
more rounds."
George rolled his eyes. "This was your plan, remember. Stop short and leave him
wanting more."
"I know, I know," Fred answered, "and you just wait, next time it will he him
coming to us. Did you see the look of longing on that snake-faced bastard's
face when we left? Face it George, I'm brilliant."
"You're certainly something," George agreed, then pressed a kiss into Fred's
forehead. "And Fred?"
"Yes George?" Fred replied innocently.
"The hand that is currently rubbing my penis better stop unless you plan on
taking care of me properly."
Fred smiled as he began to move his head downwards to George's lower regions.
"Of course George."
 
Voldemort, meanwhile, sat in his library. Books discarded, studies abandoned,
he sat stocking his cock furiously, eyes glowing red in the darkness as he
thought about the twin terrors that had invaded his life. For a brief moment,
he wished desperately for the twins to return. With a strangled yell he threw
out his hands in frustration, turning several shelves to cinders. Unhappy,
unsatisfied, and unsure of what to do next Voldemort sat alone in the darkness.
Then he walked down the hall, grabbed a sleeping potion, and for the first time
in many years, went to bed.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
