Option 3X: All Aboard!

Even having finished surprisingly quickly, it was getting late enough in the day that they only had time to...

...say their goodbyes and head home, though not before Rose gave Hermione directions for how to reach the platform for the Express and a 'helpful' reminder that, as a dirty mudblood whore, she'd need to show off how slutty she was even in the muggle world. The way the brunette's eyes had unfocused right before the words had left her mouth, as the murmured confundus charm had sunk into her unprepared brain, had been nothing less than orgasmic - though she'd managed to play it off as the result of the ornate heart tattoo above her pussy beaming her mother's pleasure directly into her body. It was just as well she'd been quick enough about conjuring the image to catch Hermione in the dazed period after the charm had done its work, because the speed at which the girl recovered was even more impressive than how deeply the suggestion had imbedded itself.

I really ought to actually get a tattoo like that, she mused as she stepped out of the fireplace at home, listening out for any signs of her father or brother, before the school year starts, if nothing else. "Dirk!" There was a double crack as the House Elf appeared beside her and landed a heavy slap on her ass, just as she liked it. "Does the Potter brat need something," he asked, sinking long, bony digits into the meat of her bubbly cheek. "A glass of water? A hot bath? A load of cum?" Lily Potter had never been shy about paying the family's Elves what they were owed, and Rose had been happy to help her since her eighteenth - whenever she hadn't been otherwise engaged, that is. "None of that for now," she replied, breath hitching as she received an extra-rough squeeze, "I just need you to do me a favour for a few weeks..."

Honestly, if Hermione didn't thank her for this next time they met, there'd be hell to pay; it took a lot to get Rose Potter to give up one of 'her' cocks, after all!

The morning of September 1st dawned bright and early for most, having got plenty of sleep the night before in preparation for the unmitigated hell that was navigating a busy King's Cross Station. Not so, Rose Potter assumed, for at least two of the young women currently in the station; although she could only assume that was the case for Hermione, not having seen her since the visit to Diagon Alley. She tottered through the crowds in her platform stilettos, hair and clothes artfully mussed to look like she'd just had a quickie in one of the storage rooms, dipping and weaving through the crowds with the ease of long practice until she and her suitcase slid casually through a wall between platforms nine and ten to emerge at her destination. The ornate black tattoo above her pussy no longer burned quite as ferociously as it had been for the last couple of days, so her mother must have finally been on her way to Hogwarts to prepare for the start of term; now she might actually get some sleep that was merely wracked by wet dreams instead of outright interrupted by them.

Curly brown locks framing an expression that spoke of total but enjoyable exhaustion greeted her as she finally started to look around, Hermione looking much more at ease in her uniform after a few weeks of 'summer lessons' on how a witch ought to behave in public and private. "Morning, whore," she greeted the muggleborn, smirking as Dirk gave the girl a spank for being too slow to acknowledge the greeting, "did you get up to much since Diagon Alley?" Hermione arched her back, showing off her prices just like she'd been taught. "Not much," she replied, "aside from Daddy's lessons and watching him obliterate my mum's arsehole every night." Rose nodded approvingly to the House Elf, aware from Hermione's letters that he'd more than pulled his weight when it came to keeping the Granger household in order. "She says 'thanks', by the way," Hermione continued, shifting her hips from side to side as a group of older students entered the platform and leered at her on their way past.

"She's welcome," Rose smiled, "and thank you, Dirk." The House Elf nodded sharply and disappeared with a crack of displaced air right as the Express sounded its whistle. "We should probably get on," she told the brunette, "before all the good compartments are taken." Hermione nodded and grabbed her bag, the pair sashaying past misty-eyed family send-offs and last-minute make-out sessions towards the nearest carriage door. Their head start paid off quickly, both slipping into an empty compartment and stowing their bags in the luggage racks before the corridor outside filled with people. "So," Rose asked as they both sank into the plush couch seats, hands already drifting towards the wands holstered on the inside of their thighs, "looking forward to anything in particular?"

Hermione hummed as she unclasped the leather straps and lifted the thick, veiny wooden phallus to her mouth. "Besides getting paid to eat arse, you mean? Well," she paused to run her tongue along its length a couple of times, leaving the already shiny varnish shining even brighter with her spit, "Daddy was kind enough to ****-feed my mum a couple of potions that did wonders for her body, and it got me wondering what sort of other stuff they can do." Rose nodded along, not bothering to lube up her own wand before slipping it under her skirt and starting to tease the tip against her pussy. "Oh, potions can do some wild stuff," she assured the brunette, as Hermione continued to slurp her way back and forth along the length of her wand, now tracing each vein with the tip of her tongue, "you won't get to brew really potent stuff in your first year, but if you want to come over for Christmas or the summ-" Both girls jumped as the compartment door slammed open, Rose letting out a low moan as the involuntary motion sank half of her wand between her lower lips.

Who is it?

Option 1: It's Harry, completely unable to process Rose's masturbation even as he notices Hermione giving her wand a sloppy spit-shine.

Option 2: It's Draco, looking for his main target this year - the mudblood whore he met in Madame Malkin's, and any friend she happens to have made.

Option 3: One of the girls' female yearmates, potentially with one or more men in tow.

Option 4: Something seemingly innocuous; the lunch trolley, prefects doing a meet-and-greet, etc.

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