Option 2: The Customer Is Always Right

"You know," Maggie told the still-giddy witch beside her as she twirled her wand, "I've always loved muggle fashion. The Malkins have been tarting up the sluttiest witches in Britain for centuries, but it used to be nothing but lingerie, chokers, things like that. But then some bright spark muggleborn brought a porn mag to her first fitting and mum went wild for it. We've never been raking in so much gold before! Nurse outfits for St Mungos, Police uniforms for the DMLE, slutty schoolgirl uniforms for Hogwarts - we could buy out Twilfit & Tattings three times over just on the profits from those three, never mind the other stuff! Of course, then we'd have to rebrand, given that that's where all the male students get their clothes and we're, y'know..." She gestured up at the sign above the counter, sporting the same slogan as the shopfront. Hermione just nodded dazedly, slowly wrestling her mind back into something resembling its usual sharp state as her thoughts were consumed with just how pretty all of the material on display was.

The bell above the entrance jingled merrily as the door was pushed open with more **** than was probably necessary. Rose's eyes immediately took on a predatory glint as she threaded her fingers through her hair and arched her back, posing provocatively for the new - and distinctly masculine - arrival as her dress disintegrated in a swirl of Maggie's magic. "Mr Malfoy," the seamstress greeted with a smile as a school uniform identical to Hermione's slithered off the racks and began wrapping itself around Rose's seam-straining body, "I'm surprised to see you here. Looking for a gift?" Hermione tore her gaze away from a particularly mesmerising pattern hung on the wall and blinked in surprise at how good the blonde b- no, the blonde man looked to her cum-drunk brain. "Not quite," he replied, "besides the fact that this-" He grabbed the long bulge running down the inside of one thigh for emphasis, drawing a simultaneous lip-licking from all three girls. "-is the ideal present for a slut like you. I needed a place to check that Twilfit & Tattings didn't mess up my uniform's spellwork, and this seemed the best place for it."

He looked Hermione up and down, smirking at the glazed look in her eyes. "Muggleborn on her first dose of Centaur cum," he asked Rose in a lazy drawl, grinning as she nodded in reply. "Wonderful. It's your lucky day, mudblood," he told Hermione, who could only nod along eagerly, eyes still fixed on his bulge, "I'm going to teach you some lessons. First lesson; you're not a real witch, you're just a slut who happens to have magic - you're not a proper lady, you're a whore." That makes sense, Hermione thought to herself, happy to have an anchor to focus herself, Mum and Dad aren't nobility or anything, so I'm not a proper lady; which means I must be a whore. "Good whore," he continued. "Second lesson; proper ladies kneel, whores squat. So squat, whore." Hermione rushed to obey, knees bending and thighs flexing as she pressed the stiletto heels of her platforms together and spread her legs wide. Sensing a slut's mouth at crotch height, the enchantments on the man's trousers immediately activated, belt, button and fly undoing themselves so that a hot, heavy mass of the most delicious-looking cock Hermione had ever seen could slap down harshly on her upturned face.

"Third lesson," he sneered, the expression of contempt making the brunette's sheer, lacy panties drip from how over-soaked they were getting, "proper ladies suck, whores ****." She opened her mouth obediently for him to slap the tip of his rapidly-hardening cock onto her outstretched tongue, leaving the flavour of his precum sizzling on her tastebuds, before he seized a fistful of her hair. "So ****-" With one thrust, he sank half of his mouth-watering length down her gullet, stretching the walls of her throat taut around his throbbing, veiny shaft. "-whore." He groaned in approval as Hermione's throat tightened around him, a gush of spit and throatslime splattering the rest of his cock before he pulled out a couple of inches and then wrenched her down to the base with a sudden tug of his hands and buck of his hips. "Merlin's balls... You've sunk your claws into a top-class suckslut here, Evans."

"You should see how much she loves getting her backdoor smashed in, Draco" Rose replied, one hand groping a massive, fake-looking tit 'through' her front-tied blouse while the other rubbed lazily at her barely-covered pussy, "bet she could quite happily spend all day going arse-to-mouth and back again." Hermione gurgled and gagged in agreement as Draco began to fuck her face in earnest, veins scraping the walls of her throat as each of his half-downward thrusts churned up a frothy mix of spit, precum and throatslime that he then dredged up every time he pulled back for another. He released her hair for just long enough to slap her hard in the side of her head, before grabbing her reins once again and picking up the pace. "Whores don't talk unless they're told to," he snarled, "now work harder."

Hermione obediently met his next thrust, and every one thereafter, with a forward lunge of her head that mashed her lips against his hips in an explosion of suckslop that soaked his balls and was only prevented from darkening the material of his clothes by the self-cleaning charms cast on the fabric. Draco smirked at Maggie and Rose's flustered, jealous expressions as Hermione happily slamfucked her own throat onto him with a harsh, nasty gluhk-gluhk-gluhk-gluhk sound. As his shaft began to pulse against the pressure from her throat, he pulled her down and held her there, letting her feel his balls throb and clench against her chin while he unloaded into her. Hermione's cunt clenched around nothing as she had her second ever deepthroat-induced orgasm - and one much more powerful than the first, as surprising as it had been to cum with a fat log of silicone crammed past her lips.

"Right," Draco remarked as he pulled out, so thoroughly drained that only the barest traces of spunk were left for Hermione's swirling tongue to gather up and use to redouble the sudden feeling of lewd warmth in her belly, "those definitely seem to work, and this mudblood knows how to listen to her betters, so it looks like the year's off to a good start. I'll see you at the welcoming feast, Evans." He looked down at Hermione as his belt re-buckled itself. "Fourth lesson; proper ladies flirt, whores advertise. So remember to advertise yourself, whore." The brunette just squatted there, panting and drooling into her cleavage, as the bell above the door jingled to signal his exit and Rose reached down to offer a hand up. "Are you feeling alright, Hermione," she asked, voice dripping with false concern, "not still dizzy, are you?"

Hermione blinked for a moment as her brain finished filing everything back into its proper place, leaving her looking and acting much as she had been before Lavender's little 'ambush'. "No, no, I'm fine," she replied, giving Rose a reassuring smile, "it's just... that, ah, Centaur cum is rather potent, isn't it?" The black-haired girl just shrugged, the message of 'you get used to it' clear in her body language. Hermione swallowed thickly and let out a shaky sigh, resolving to put the jumbled mess of sensations from her time under the influence aside until she'd finished her shopping. Speaking of shopping, she thought, as a sudden flight of fancy struck her. "I don't suppose you've got anything I can add to this," she asked Maggie, not curious in the slightest where the urge had come from. "Something nice and eye-catching, something to really advertise my best features; you know?" She wasn't sure why Rose was smirking, honestly - there was nothing wrong with wanting to stand out, especially when they still needed to...

Option 1: ...find out what on Earth was going on outside with Professor Potter. The noises they can hear from inside Madame Malkin's are rather lewd, after all.

Option 2: ...head to Gringotts to open a student account. Lily and Rose are perfectly willing to cover Hermione's costs, but she still deserves a chance to receive an, ah, 'injection of seed capital' from the Goblins.

Option 3: ...head to Ollivander's to get her a wand - old Garrick might not concern himself with anything but his wand-making, but his enchanted measuring tools are more than happy to pick up the slack when it comes to 'inspecting' his female customers.

Option X: Something Else - or a specific variation on another option.