Harry Potter at Oldark: Homecoming Games

by MrGerudoMan (ao3)

Harry Potter lay reclined on a comfortable overstuffed sofa, wearing nothing but a red latex suit that covered him from neck to foot, with integral fingerless gloves and stirrup feet. Gripping and massaging his bulge absentmindedly, he looked out upon the rolling hills of his large Cumbrian estate, emitting the odd squeak and soft groan. His best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, sprawled next to him, also dressed in latex suits, with Ron similarly groping his red-covered manhood, albeit more vigorously and determined than his bespeckled boyfriend, toes curling with his efforts.  Yellow-clad Hermione had her nose deep in an ancient tome she had found in the library, one red five-inch heeled boot bobbing in the air, completely ignoring both of them as they let out audible moans here and there as they edged themselves close to climax. 

One long, shuddering sigh in her ear finally stirred her. “You boys! I mean seriously,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes, “you two might as well go to the bedroom and start fucking you’re so horny right now.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Hermione,” Ron quipped with a saucy grin. 

The three rubber-clad wizards were residing at the historic Black country estate, Oldark. This sprawling manor, set on several acres of untouched Cumbrian countryside, is just a few miles from the Scottish border. The formidable 20,000-square-foot, two-story Gothic Revival mansion perched on a hill with views of the River Derwent valley reflected the dark grandeur of the pure-blood family that built it. Since he was the godson and sole heir of Sirius Black, the last head of the Black family, Harry had devoted many weekends to restoring it after years of neglect. He would apparate there whenever he had free time from his university classes, working to prepare the place for guests again. Although there was much still to accomplish, the estate was almost at a point where he could envision living there full-time after a month of dedicated effort. 

Of course, he and his friends had transformed it into their kinky paradise, shielded from the prying eyes of neighbors. Despite the seclusion of 12 Grimmauld Place, there was always the risk that someone—or something—might glance through the windows and catch them in the act. Fortunately, with miles separating them from their nearest neighbor, that was unlikely. Not to mention Kreature, the disgruntled house elf, skulking through the halls, and Walburga Black’s portrait, magically affixed to the wall so it could not be removed, poised to unleash a racist tirade the moment she sensed their presence in the house. Even hidden by a drape, they dared not provoke her; Kreature was always there, eager to spill the tea and gossip with her, no matter what she could or could not see. 

“We’ll do that when you put the book down and join us, Hermione,” Harry countered, running his thumb down the slope of his bulge. “You’ve done nothing but read since you found the library here.” 

“Yes, and I’m going to keep reading until I’ve read each book at least three times,” Hermione stated matter of factly, slamming the book (Le Grimoire du Champ de Bataille de Jeanne d'Arc by Gilles de Rais) shut to address them directly, “But… if you insist,” she added with a smirk. The intelligent witch stood up, stepped over Ron’s long legs to Harry Potter, and planted her foot on the young wizard’s cherry-red bulge, scattering his hands like frightened birds. He groaned as she dug her high-heeled boot into his rubber-smothered member. 

“Blimey, Hermione!” Ron gasped with wide, hungry eyes. “You’re gonna kill him if you keep that up!” 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Hermione smirked, “I’d think you sound a little jealous, Ron. Are you feeling left out?” His face turned red as his hair, the young wizard shrinking in his suit, hands trembling slightly and sliding off his shiny red mound in subconscious anticipation. Hermione sniggered. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get your turn.” She turned her attention back to the Boy Who Lived, the bespectacled boy panting like a dog as she worked her boot into his manhood. His glasses fogged up, and sweat gathered on his brow as he neared climax after only a few minutes of her intense boot grinding.

“He-He-Hermonie…” Harry stammered, panting like a dog. His fingers found their way to his nipples, pinching them in tandem with his friend’s boot job. 

“Beg for it, Potter,” she said, accentuating his surname like Malfoy did when they were still schoolboys. He admitted to Hermione he always found the way the Slytherin pure-blood said his name sexy, one of many things he wished he could have admitted a long time ago. Now, she used it against him whenever they played. 

“P-Please, Hermione.” Harry begged, “L-Let me cum.. Please….”

“Harry! Don’t grovel to her!” Ron protested. 

Hermione turned, her eyes red with fire. She raised her wand. “Somnus!” she chanted, a pink-purple cloud appearing from the tip of her wand and enveloping Ron’s head. As soon as he caught a whiff of the magic dust, Ron slumped back, his eyes growing heavy, and the latex-clad boy yawning as his body collapsed into a deep slumber. 

“There. You can take a good nap, my sweet,” Hermione blew him a kiss. “Now, where were we?” She pressed her boot into the bulge, smushing it under her weight, and by extension Harry’s member. The young raven-haired wizard yelped and begged for mercy, his arms and legs twitched as he neared that coveted climax. 

“H-Hermonie!!!” Harry yelped, “P-Please! Let me cum!” 

“Hmm…” Hermione put her finger to her chin, appearing to think it over, “I dunno… I don’t think you’ve earned it…” 

“I…I’m sorry for making fun of your books!” Harry admitted, “P-Please forgive me. Please let me cum!” 

“Oh, alright then, since you’ve been such a good boy,” Hermione winked, leaning in and kissing Harry’s left cheek. Immediately, the Boy Who Lived convulsed violently, his back arched, and his fingers twitched.

“I-I’m cumming!” Harry announced, gasping for air, “I’m cumming!” Hot white semen pumped out of his erect member, coating the inside of his latex suit in a generous coating of his seed. He blushed, his body freezing and creaking as the ejaculation subsided, and he sank deep into the couch and post-climax bliss. His mind was left in a haze he didn’t want to escape.

“Hmm…” Hermione studied the lifeless doll before her, “You boys are always so dramatic when you reach climax. You’d never see me acting like that.”

“Sh-Shut up, Hermione.” Harry countered, “You’re… You’re the loudest of us whenever you cum, and it lasts longer too.” 

The former Gryffindor valedictorian turned red as Ron, “Sh-Shut up, Harry!” she blushed, throwing a pillow in his face. He burst out laughing, and in turn, so did Hermione. The two couldn’t stay mad at each other for long. She leaned in and placed herself on top of Harry, kissing him on the lips this time, a deep, sensual kiss that seemed to melt time. Harry returned the favor, thanking her for giving him such a wonderful experience. His arms found their way around her rubber figure, wrapping her in his embrace. Her breasts rested comfortably on his chest, the two lost in their world as Ron snored beside them, still under the effects of Hermione’s charm and blissfully unaware. 

They were interrupted by a green inferno spontaneously appearing in the hearth. 

Harry and Hermione broke off and looked at the hearth. The sound of the flames appearing even roused Ron from his magic-induced sleep. They watched as the room was bathed in the unmistakable green glow of Floo Powder flames. 

“Were we expecting visitors?” Ron asked, still groggy.

“I can only think of one person it could be,” Harry said, exchanging a knowing look with Hermione, who smiled back. 

The flames died, and in their place, standing in their hearth, was a witch with short, straight hair dyed colors that seemed to change depending on how you looked at her. She stepped out of the hearth, looking over at the three Gryffindors like a predator looks at prey. 

“Well, well, well,” she said, “I’m not interrupting, am I?” 

“Not at all,” Harry shook his head, “You’re just in time. Welcome to Oldark, Nymphadora Tonks.” 

The visitor stood before the three wizards, looking down upon them even as they stood taller than her. Her five-foot-six-inch frame seemed to fluctuate, growing and shrinking depending on how she wanted to present herself. Today, she kept things normal, for lack of a better word. She wore a black and purple trench coat/sweater hybrid over top of a black crop top with the logo of the most recent Muggle rock band to catch her fancy. Cut-off denim capris with ragged edges and striped leggings that turned into boots completed the look. Her usually color-changing hair remained shades of violet today, as did her eyes, glistening like amethysts. 

She gazed at the three wizards dressed in latex and smirked, “I feel I’m overdressed,” she admitted, “Should I change?” 

“That depends, Tonks,” Harry smirked back, “What brings you to Oldark?” 

“Other than to assert my claim to the property, not much,” she joked. As an heir to the Black family, she too had a claim to the land, and unlike Harry, she was a blood relative of the family. However, she didn’t contest Harry’s ownership of the mansion, or any other part of the Black family’s large estate, as she knew that Sirius would have wanted him to have it all; to scrub away any trace of the Black name from these hallowed buildings and to fill them with happy memories and friends, not hate and vitriol. Plus, she had long renounced her heritage, resenting her connection to the fanatical pure-blood Black family tree. 

“I’m just kidding,” Tonks added, “Just thought I’d stop by and check on my favorite kinky ménage à trois.” 

“Aren’t we the only kinky… uh…” Ron began, blanking on the word that Tonks had used.

“Ménage à trois.” Hermione added, “It’s French. Just call it a throuple. That’s pretty much what it is.”  

“Right, that,” Ron finished. 

“You’d be surprised,” Tonks remarked, walking towards them, “there aren’t many people in the world who do what you three do, and even fewer wizards who do it.” She leaned in close, smiling, “You three are special, that’s for sure. You’ve got a bond like no other.” 

“Well, we’ve been through a lot of shit,” Harry blushed, “You tend to get pretty close after all the things we’ve seen and done.” 

“I would imagine so,” the violet-haired witch agreed, returning to the fireplace. “So maybe we should test how strong your bond is with a little kinky trust exercise, right?” 

“What do you mean?” Hermione raised her brow. 

“How about a little game I like to call ‘hide and kink’?” Tonk smirked, leaning against the mantle, “It’s just like the games of hide and seek you played as children, just with a kinky twist to it.”

The three wizards leaned in closer. “What kind of twist?” Ron asked, curious.

“I’m glad you asked, my rubbery Ronald!” Tonks replied, joyfully, causing the red-headed Weasley to blush, “It’s very simple. I’m going to hide one of you, and the other two are going to have to find them!” 

“That’s… exactly like hide and seek… except with multiple seekers and only one hider,” Hermione pointed out, “Where’s the kinky part come in?” 

“I’m glad you asked, my perceptive latex-clad witch!” Tonks shot back, getting irked by the constant interruptions from her compatriots, “It’s… uhh…” she scratched the back of her head, “hang on a minute….” She turned around, looking about herself as if she had lost something important. 

“You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you?” Harry asked, unimpressed, “Y’know if you wanted to hang out at the estate, all you had to do was ask, Nymphadora.” 

Her hair turned red as a fire engine, and her eyes wide as the ocean, “How many times have I told you not to call me Nymphadora!” she raged, pointing her wand at the young Potter boy. Within seconds of the tip lining up with his figure, a tight ball gag appeared around the young man’s head, fastened tight to his jaw, the ball resting securely in his maw, preventing him from uttering a single intelligible syllable. Harry, stunned beyond belief, reached up and tried yanking the gag off his face, reaching behind to unfasten the buckle behind his head. Alas, the gag was secured in place with a magical lock, which only Tonks could undo. Hermione and Ron looked at Harry in disbelief, while Tonks stood smirking, satisfied with her retort.

“Well, that was fun,” Tonks remarked, “In fact, I just remembered what it was I was going to say! One of you will be hidden by me, and the other two will have to find them. However, we’re gonna do a little Three Wise Monkeys with this game.” 

“Three Wise Monkeys?” Ron asked, confused, still dumbfounded by her opening salvo.

“See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil.” Hermione explained, rolling her eyes, “Seriously, did you ever pay attention in school, Ronald?” The Weasley wizard’s flushed face grew redder still, as Harry chuckled under his gag, “She’s going to have one of us gagged, one of us blindfolded, and the other deafened, and we know who’s going to be gagged among us.” 

“Correct as always, Ms. Granger.” Tonks winked, “Speaking of which…” she pointed her wand at the two remaining wizards. Just as she had done with Harry, within moments, she magically put a blindfold and heavy earmuffs on Hermione and Ron, respectively. The young witch gasped as her world turned black before her. Ron yelped, but could not hear himself do so, as a pair of heavy, tight earmuffs pressed against his head. Both devices were fastened securely to their heads, locked tight with Tonks’ magic, strong enough that even a gifted witch like Hermione could not break the spell binding them in place. 

“You bitch!” Hermione cried out, “At least warn us before you’re going to do something like that!” 

“WHAT?! DID YOU SAY SOMETHING HERMIONE?!” Ron yelled at the top of his lungs, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” 

“Ron! That’s the point!” Hermione shook her head. She turned to where she remembered Tonks was. “Okay, are you done yet?” 

“Not quite,” Tonks replied, “There’s still something more, but I should take the muffs off Ron for this so he can hear. This is important.” She flicked her wand at Ron, causing the earmuffs to disappear temporarily. Ron gasped as sound suddenly returned to him. 

“Okay then,” Tonks breathed deep, “I’m going to take Harry here and hide him somewhere on the grounds. You two,” she pointed her wand at the two remaining wizards, both of which flinched at the sight of it, “are going to have to try and find him. If you can find him before sunset, then you can do with me and Harry as you please. Bind us, enslave us, make us suck you off. Doesn’t matter. Whatever you want, we’ll do it for you. Isn’t that right, Harry?” She turned to the Boy Who Lived, but he didn’t seem to be amused by the prospects of her proposal. She shrugged, “Well, you’re probably used to sucking cock anyway.” 

“And if we lose?” Hermione asked, “I presume the opposite will be true?” 

“Correct again!” Tonks nodded, “If you lose, then Harry and I can do whatever we want to you two! Methinks you like that a little better now, don’t you, Mr. Potter, hmm?” At this the young raven-haired wizard nodded in agreement. 

“Alright then,” Ron seemed satisfied, “sounds easy enough. How long do we have?” 

“Until sunset,” Tonk replied.

“HA!” Hermione laughed, “you’re giving us all day to find him! This estate isn’t as big as you think it is! We’ll find him in no time!” 

“O-ho! Prideful little witch aren’t we?” Tonks said, “We’ll just have to wait and see, shall we?” She grabbed hold of Harry’s arm. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we? Hide and Kink starts now!” 

With that, the two of them disapparated from the mansion, leaving Hermione and Ron alone to their thoughts. Before she left, Tonks summoned the noise cancelling earmuffs, once more plunging Rom into an artificial, uncomfortable silence. The two rubber clad wizards shook their heads in disbelief, not sure how they ended up in this situation. 

“Okay… so Harry is hidden somewhere and we’ve got until sunset to find him and get these things off.” Hermione observed, reviewing what Tonks told them.

“WHAT?!” Ron yelled, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR MYSELF!” 

“RONALD WEASLEY!” Hermione yelled back, “I know you can’t hear me, and I also know that you can read my lips, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just do that instead of screaming your lungs and my ears out! Okay?!” The young ginger nodded sheepishly, seemingly understanding her completely. 

“Okay…” she took a deep breath, “I can’t see, but I have the layout of the mansion pretty much memorized, and you can also be my eyes, and I can be your ears, so we can totally do this!” She reached for Ron’s hand, who took it gladly. The young witch looked up at the grandfather clock ticking away in the living room, “It’s almost noon. Sunset is around 18:00. That’s about six hours to find him.” she smirked, “I think we can do this.” 

Ron took the lead to start, leading Hermione around the great room and making sure she didn’t trip over something she couldn’t see. However, before long it was Ron who had the most trouble staying upright. Despite being able to see, he forgot, or perhaps never learned, that your sense of hearing has a large part to play in maintaining equilibrium and balance, thus he found himself struggling to walk. 

“Are you okay, Ron?” Hermione asked, the ginger merely shaking his head, “Let me take the lead and you just follow me, then.” He ceded and Hermione grabbed his hand and took charge.

The first area they checked was the basement cellar. Of course, it should have been obvious to both of them that Tonks wouldn’t hide Harry somewhere so obvious, but regardless, there was still a chance. They carefully navigated the stairs, Hermione and Ron both gripping tight to the handrail, taking each step one at a time. When they finally reached the bottom, the lights turned on automatically, revealing the cavernous space below the mansion. 

In the olden days, the large basement was used almost exclusively as a wine cellar, housing the various varietals bottled from all over the world. Under Harry’s ownership, while still having a a sizeable portion dedicated to the wines, the rest had been converted into a large sex dungeon, where the three of them performed some of their most extreme kinks, well out of the prying eyes of any passersby that might happen upon the estate. Plus, the exposed brick foundation, stone arches holding up the house, and bare stone floor completed the aesthetic and made the whole place feel more alive. 

“When this is all over,” Ron said, unable to hear himself, “We’re gonna have some fun down here.” Hermione nodded in agreement as they began their search.

What they didn’t know, or perhaps should have realized, was that Tonks wasn’t going to make that easy for them. Not long after entering the basement, her spells kicked in. Suddenly, two corsets sprang forth from the walls, and before they could react with their wands, wrapped themselves around the two wizards, who yelped in surprise as they hugged and tightened around their midsections. 

“Merlin’s beard!” Ron yelped, struggling to breathe. 

“I should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy.” Hermione cursed, “the whole mansion is probably full of traps.” She tried whispering an incantation to remove the corsets, but to no avail, “Of course they’re enchanted.” 

“It won’t come off!” Ron cried, tugging at his own. The garment only seemed to tighten around him as he struggled. He reached for the laces on the back of Hermione’s, hoping to undo the knots, or at least loosen them, but again, they only seemed to tighten further the more he tried. 

“Ron!” Hermione gasped, barely able to breathe with the tightening corset.

“Sorry…” Ron relented, sensing her pain.

“Well…” she said, catching her breath, “I guess we’re stuck with them for now…” she sighed, listening around for anything else that might be lurking in the cellar. “Come on, Ron. Let’s keep going. Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.” 

Ron nodded in agreement, leading Hermione deeper into the cellar. 

Harry felt the cool, Highland wind blow through his hair and across his face as he came too. He couldn’t remember anything after Tonks apparated the two of them out of the mansion to parts unknown. He blinked the fog out of his eyes, trying to make out what was in front of him. He saw the back facade of the mansion. The rear columned portico leading out to the massive terraced patio and magnificent fountain that had entertained many guests in the years the estate was owned by the Black family. The foreground of his vision also had columns, but much smaller and seemingly encircling him, connected by a wood bannister. Ivy crawled up from the ground, snaking through the railing and up the columns.

The gazebo, he thought, I’m in the gazebo in the rear yard….

He tried to move his arms and legs, but something held them back. Startled, he looked up to see that the very same ivy surrounding the gazebo’s columns had ensnared him in their grip as well, binding his arms and legs into a cross. They were no ordinary vines either, for as hard as he tried to free himself, the plant would not give up its prey. They reached down, crawling down his arms and up his legs, wrapping themselves around his torso even, making sure that the young wizard would not break free no matter what he tried to do. 

Harry wanted to cry out for help, but the gag wrapped tightly around his face, and snugly into his jaw, prevented anything but a muffled, barely audible whimper from getting out. He let out a long sigh and looked down. With his back to the west, his shadow stretched out before him, giving him a rough estimate of what time it was. 

It’s probably mid-afternoon… he thought, judging by how long his shadow was, Has it really already been two hours since this “game” started? How long was I knocked out? He sighed, wondering how long it would take Hermione and Ron to realize that he wasn’t in the mansion anymore. Until then, he resigned himself to his thoughts, and tried to get comfortable while he waited for the game to end one way or another. 

“O-ho? What do we have here?” a somewhat familiar voice broke the silence, “Is the Chosen One finally awake?” 

Harry turned to see Nymphadora Tonks walk from behind him, looking a little different than when she appeared before them in the mansion. In fact, “she” wasn’t a she anymore, and much to Harry’s shock, Tonks stood before him now as a man. Indeed, he had transitioned while the young wizard was out cold, surely a result of her polymorphing skills, with short color changing hair and more masculine features, but not too masculine, falling firmly into the category of a twink femboy. He was also wearing something a little more fitting for the challenge, sporting a black latex catsuit, high heeled purple boots, purple corset, wrist and ankle cuffs, and a collar with gold spikes. Rather than a pair of breasts like he was used to seeing on Tonks, a round bulge greeted him between his legs, much like Harry’s own. 

“Surprised?” Tonks asked, his voice now slightly deeper, “I’m surprised you’re surprised, actually. You should know this isn’t the first time I’ve transformed into a man. In fact, I do it all the time, probably once every week or so. Thought once or twice about making it a permanent change but… I guess I can’t quite make up my mind. The downsides of being a polymorph I suppose. You’re never satisfied with what you have.” 

Harry mustered a scowl, as best he could with a big rubber ball pressed between his jaws. 

“Oh don’t give me that look.” Tonks scoffed, approaching the bound wizard, “I know you like what you see… and I know you like what I’ve done to you.” He put his hand on his chest, running his fingers down the chest of the Boy Who Lived. With his free hand, he reached down and grabbed hold of his bulge. The young wizard yelped as his manhood was held in Tonk’s hands.

“I’ve seen what makes you tick, Harry Potter.” Tonks said, fondling the red bulge while massaging Harry’s chest at the same time, “I know you like this. No, that’s not a strong enough word,” he leaned in and whispered in Harry’s ear, “you crave this… Yes… you crave this subjugation. You live for this, don’t you, Potter?” He accented his name the way Malfoy did, which only made Harry’s hair stand on end. He blushed as his body was further abused by the masculine Tonks.

“You like it when I say your name like that.” Tonks mused, “Potter… just like your old school bully. Malfoy, right? Draco Malfoy… what did you see in him?” she gripped the bulge tightly, causing Harry to yelp, “Did you like that he treated you like dirt? Were you jealous of his status? Or did you just think he was so cool?” Tears welled up in Harry’s eyes, “I know you’ve seen him since you graduated. What would Ron and Hermione say if they knew? Maybe I should tell them.” 

Harry violently shook his head in protest. 

“Hmph… don’t worry.” Tonks smiled, “I would never do that. I’m not that kind of person.” he looked Harry dead in the eyes, running his hand around his throat and down his chest, “Speaking of them, what do you think they’re up to right now? How long do you think it’ll take them to realize that you’re out here and not in there?” Harry whimpered as Tonks continued abusing him, “I’ve set all sorts of magical traps for them. Some kinky, some not. All intended to hobble their progress. By the end, Ron will still be able to see and Hermione will still be able to hear, but that’s probably about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they can’t get out of the mansion before the time runs out on our little game.”

Harry couldn’t give even a nod in agreement anymore. His thoughts were wholly focused on the torment Tonks was giving his manhood. He could feel himself close to climax, but still unbearably far from it. Tonks was a master at edging him and prolonging the punishment. 

“Hmm… you want to cum don’t you?” Tonks licked his lips. Harry nodded enthusiastically like a needy puppy, staring into Tonks’ eyes like one. Tonks smirked, “I’ll let you cum,” he said, leaning in and kissing Harry on the forehead, “when the game is over.” 

Harry protested as Tonks removed his hand from his groin and backed away from him, begging for release. He struggled violently against his binds, the vines responding by further restricting him, growing to fully cover his arms and legs, fully immobilizing them. They wrapped themselves tightly around his chest, and even his neck, constricting him until he calmed down. Tonks watched in amusement as he thrashed himself into exhaustion due to the sexual frustration. 

“Yes, Harry. Struggle with all your might.” Tonks said, his body changing back to female right in front of Harry. The bulge between his legs effortlessly changed into a pair of breasts on her chest, among other anatomical changes. She stood before him as the Tonks he knew and loathed and loved once more, “You’ll have all the pleasures in the world as soon as this game is over. I promise you.” 

With nothing left to say, Tonk apparated into nothingness, leaving Harry alone once more in the gazebo with only his thoughts, his frustrations, and the vines to keep him company. Tears ran down his cheek, his breathing heavy and haggard from thrashing, and his body ached. His heart raced from the rush of adrenaline, and he tried desperately to edge himself, but the vines would not let him. 

The wizard weeped as he stood in the gazebo alone, watching his shadow grow longer and longer as the sun drew further and further to the horizon. He wished for nothing else than for this game to be over, not caring who won or lost. 

Ron, Hermione, he thought to himself, I hope you’re at least having a better time than I am… he closed his eyes and tried to rest, wishing that this was just a dream.

Harry would be disconcerted to learn that Ron and Hermione, in fact, were not having a better time than he was. 

The two had searched the rest of the basement, only to come up short. The only thing to find besides the memories of kink sessions of the past, future sessions to be done, and more wine than they could be expected to consume, was more traps courtesy of their benevolent dominatrix. The first they managed to dodge and disable, but the second they could not avoid, being a set of harnesses and cuffs. 

“What was that?” Hermione asked, unaware. 

“Harnesses and cuffs,” Ron yelped, the full body harness wrapping around his entire body including his groin, accentuating his bulge even more than it already was. 

“Well, at least it’s comfy…” she admitted, moving on. With nothing left to search for in the basement, the two made their way back upstairs. They climbed the stairs slowly, with Ron carefully leading Hermione up one step at a time.

“Almost there…” Ron said.

As they reached the top, however, another of Tonks’ traps set off. At that moment, the stairs folded away, forming a continuous ramp downward. The two yelped as the floor gave way under them, and they slid back down to the basement. 

“Ouch!” Hermione exclaimed, “Goddammit, not another trap!” 

“Well, what did you expect?” a voice called out. They looked up to find Tonks standing at the top of the now-nonexistent stairway. “Did you think I would make this easy for you?” 

“Well, you didn’t need to throw out our backs!” Hermione quipped. 

“Oh, you’re fine! You’re young after all.” Tonks retorted, “Besides, that was fun, and you know it.” 

“Haha… very funny…” Hermione fake-laughed, “Now how are we supposed to get out of here?”

“Beats me.” Tonks shrugged, “My spell will wear off at some point, but that’s not my problem, after all.” She looked down at the watch on her wrist, “Still got a lot of time… but it’s going by fast.” With that, she left them to ponder.

“Well, this is pants…” Hermione said, getting up, “Now, if I remember, there’s a cellar door somewhere around here… we better find it.” she pointed for Ron to lead the way.

It didn’t take long for them to find the cellar door, located on the far side of the chamber from the stairwell. When they reached out for the door, however, another trap sprung, this time a pair of horse hooves that turned their hands into useless heavy weights. Undeterred, Ron reached up and pushed against the old wood cellar doors, but they were locked tight and wouldn’t budge without the use of a key or their wands to use a spell to unlock it, both of which were out of reach thanks to their new horse hoof hands. 

“Great,” Hermione groaned, “Why do I get the feeling she wanted us to try the cellar door?” 

Ron didn’t respond, merely giving one last hard push against the door before retreating from it in defeat. He thought about ramming the door with his shoulder, but he didn’t want to damage his precious latex suit against the splintered, gnarled wood door in the process. 

Suddenly, a loud thump echoed through the cellar basement, coming from the stairwell, suggesting that Tonks’ spell had already worn off. The two made their way back and sure enough the stairs had returned to normal. Once again, the two slowly made their way up the incline, cautiously and anticipating another trap. Thankfully, there was none and they made it to the top without any issue, arriving back on the ground floor. The familiar sight of the kitchen greeted them. 

“Well,” Hermione sighed, “he wasn’t in the basement.” 

Not wanting to risk any more traps for the time being, and confident that Harry wasn’t in the kitchen, they marched toward the great room, where all this had started. Exhausted just from one part of the mansion, the two plopped down on the sofa, hoping for a moment of respite, however fleeting it was. 

“How long until the game’s over?” Ron asked, looking at the clock. It was 14:30, “We spent two and a half hours in the basement?!” 

“What?!” Hermione gasped, confused, “that doesn’t seem right! It only felt like an hour. Tonks must be cheating!”

“How dare you impugn my integrity like that!” Hermione heard a thunderous roar, and suddenly belts sprung forth from the couch, tying them down to it. Tonks appeared before them, looking pissed beyond imagination. Hermione and Ron struggled against their bonds, which delighted the infuriated witch. 

“I tolerate a lot,” she said, “But I won’t tolerate my subs impugning my reputation. I worked hard to maintain that.” 

“Oh I’m sure,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes under her blindfold, “And what do you call what you’re doing right now?” 

“Fair game.” Tonks leaned in close, grabbing Hermione by the chin, “You see, Ms. Granger, I don’t think you realize that we never agreed to any rules aside from finding Harry before the sun sets, which is fast approaching. Aside from that, anything goes, so I suggest you keep my pretty name out of your pretty little mouth unless it’s to practice your fawning, servile praise that you’ll be giving me when you lose this little game, my dear.” 

“We’re not losing.” Hermione said confidently.

“We’ll see,” Tonks threw her head aside, “For now, there’s still the matter of your punishment.”

“Isn’t this punishment enough,” Ron asked.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Weasley.” she smirked as she grabbed his groin, squeezing it aggressively in the palm of her hand. Ron groaned and moaned as waves of pleasure wafted over him as she cradled his manhood. 

“My my… you’re sounding just like Mr. Potter when I did this to him a little while ago.” Tonks smiled, “I didn’t know how similar you two boys were when it came to your kinks.” She continued fondling him, the sound of his moans filling her with glee. The witch brought the young rubber boy as close to the edge as she could, before letting him go. Frustrated, Ron thrashed in his bonds in protest, but before he could complain, she leaned forward and kissed him square on the lips. The ginger boy turned as red as his rubber suit, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as sexual frustration and affection boiled over, taking his breath away. As she pulled back, Ron fainted, desiring more than Tonks had given him. 

“Good boy,” Tonks said, turning to Hermione, “Now it’s your turn, Ms. Granger.” 

The chime of the grandfather clock roused them from their slumber. Ron and Hermione opened their eyes, looking up at the clock as it chimed out the time for them. 

One… two… three… four… five….

Five chimes, Hermione heard. 

Ron looked at the hands. Five o’clock. 

17:00. 

Outside, the hills appeared gold as the setting sun bathed the landscape in its waning light. 

The two wizards bolted up off the couch, startled by how long they had been out. “Merlin’s beard!” they both exclaimed, as they got to their feet, only to stumble back down immediately. Ron looked down to see a pair of horse hooves where their feet used to be, matching the ones that replaced their hands. 

“A parting gift from Tonks, no doubt.” Hermione said, putting two and two together through feel alone. They struggled back to their feet, or hooves in this case, but eventually managed to stand up straight. Thankfully, the two were adept at walking on horse hooves, and so they were able to trot through the mansion just fine. 

“We better hurry,” Hermione said, walking forward, relying solely on her memory to navigate the house, now that Ron couldn’t help her around, and with such little time left.

The two searched through the rest of the mansion as quickly as possible, scanning every room for signs of Harry Potter and Nymphadora Tonks. As a consequence of their haste, a lot of traps were sprung to impede them. They started upstairs, having exhausted all the rooms on the ground floor, ascending the grand staircase and heading into the first door on the landing, to the main bedroom. As soon as the door opened, tight latex hoods jumped up and wrapped themselves around their heads, giving their skulls a smooth sheen as if they had just shaved all their hair off. The hoods pressed tightly against their heads in a way that was comfortable, familiar and somewhat relaxing.

Moving to the other bedrooms didn’t yield any better results for them, instead showing them nothing but empty space and unused rooms. They only ever used the main bedroom after all. All others were still furnished, but never used. 

They next encountered a trap in one of the bathrooms on the first floor. A pair of tight posture collars, or neck corsets, wrapped around their necks, forcing their faces up and nearly choking them. It was harder to see where they were going with their heads held high by the collars, but not impossible. Once again, no sign of a hidden rubber wizard with a thunderbolt scar on his forehead. 

Finally, they found one more trap, a strap that held their hands up like prancing ponies, rendering their arms even more useless than they already were. With all the gear placed upon them, they looked like horses that had escaped their stables, only missing bridles and tails to complete the look. 

It was now 15 minutes to 18:00, and still no sign of Harry Potter or Nymphadora Tonks anywhere in the mansion. The two rubber clad wizards were tired and exhausted, their breathing heavy as they returned to the main bedroom. Demoralized and seemingly defeated, they sat down on the massive king size bed, having searched every square inch of Oldark Mansion for their friend with nothing to show for it except being stuck in pony gear. 

“Where is he?” Hermione gasped, “We’ve searched everywhere and we haven’t even found a single strand of his hair, much less Harry Potter!” She shook her head in disbelief. 

Ron lowered his head, ready to admit defeat. He looked out the window at the rear yard, the setting sun basking the room in its warm glow. The large patio gives way to the rolling green of the yard, tinged gold by the sun, sloping down into the river valley below. It was a breathtaking view, one befitting the mansion’s main bedroom, but the only thing Ron could focus on was the small gazebo in the distance, and the vines that had gathered around it. He couldn’t remember those vines being there before. 

“Maybe not everywhere,” he pointed out, “what about the gazebo? She did say that he would be somewhere on the estate. That includes the grounds.” 

Hermione sat up, turned toward the windows, and her eyes locked onto the gazebo like lasers. She took a moment to process what exactly Ron had just said, before exclaiming, “Of course! How could I be so stupid?!” she got up off the bed and darted for the door, “C’mon, we’ve got to get there before time runs out!” 

The two thundered through the mansion, clamoring down the grand staircase like bulls in a china shop, and skidding along the marble floor of the foyer as they rounded the bend toward the back door. Their hooves echoed through the halls as they galloped through the great room and down the first floor corridor towards the back entrance and the patio. The two burst through the door and down the steps of the ornate patio, not stopping for a moment until they hit grass. Their hooves dug into the turf, kicking up grass as they sprinted down the yard towards the gazebo in the distance, putting all of their remaining energy into reaching it before the sun sank below the horizon. Only a sliver of the golden disc was still visible, giving them only seconds left in the game. 

The gazebo was in sight. They could see Harry bound in the center of it, held aloft by enchanted vines tangled around him and holding him in place. They called out his name. The Boy Who Lived looked up, seeing his friends rushing towards him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw them, now kitted out in pony gear, but still very much his friends. He cried out for them, only managing to get muffled, incoherent noises out of his still gagged mouth. They were nearly together again, with only feet to go before they crossed the threshold of the gazebo, and….

The grandfather clock struck six o’clock, and the last sliver of the sun finally dipped below the horizon. 

The game was over. 

Tonks appeared at the entrance to the gazebo, standing between Ron and Hermione and their prize. She clapped her hands, smirking as she looked down at them. 

“Bravo!” she applauded them, “Bravo, my lovely subs. You were so close, but not close enough it seems.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Hermione protested, “We found him! We won!” 

“But you didn’t save him,” Tonks pointed out, stepping aside, “As you can see, he’s all tied up still, so I’m afraid you still lost the game.” 

“But…!” Hermione tried to interject, but she was silenced by Tonks. 

“So, you’ve lost our game, so now we get to do whatever we want with you!” Tonks waved her wand, dispelling the vines tying Harry up. The young wizard fell to the floor, quickly scrambling to his feet and walking up to stand next to Tonks and looking down at his friends. He was somewhat startled to see them in their pony gear, but not surprised either, and struggling to hold down his erection as it reminded him of their college days. With another wave of her wand, she removed the gag on Harry, the blindfold on Hermione, and the earmuffs on Ron, all three disappearing into the ether. 

“Oh finally I can hear again!” Ron smiled.

“Harry! Are you okay?” Hermione asked, worried. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks, Hermione.” he replied. “But you two look like you’re ready to pull a carriage.” 

“Not quite,” Tonks pointed out, “They’re missing a few crucial details.” She waved her wand once more, and two sets of bridals and tails appeared on the two rubber ponies. Ron and Hermione bristled as the bit gag of the bridles was placed in their jaws. They bit down on it like the ponies they were. The bridles fit perfectly around their smooth hooded heads, equipped with the aforementioned bit gag and blinders either side of their eyes to keep them focused on the road ahead. The horse tails attached themselves to the rear of their full body harnesses, which they only now realized was a pony play harness with D-rings in the front and back for horse trains and pulling. 

“There, now they’re ready.” Tonks nodded, turning to Harry, “What do you think, Harry? Fancy a ride around the estate this evening?” 

Harry smirked seeing his friends, now fully outfitted in their pony gear. He couldn’t help but instinctively reach down for his bulge, his member pushing against the rubber in approval. He fondled it knowingly. “Yes, ma’am.” he said, before adding, “but we still need a carriage.” 

“Oh, that’s right!” Tonks slapped her forehead, “Silly me! I was so carried away with making them our perfect ponies that I completely forgot about the carriage! Oh well.” she pulled out another wand—Harry’s wand—and handed it to him, “Will you do the honors, Mr. Potter?” 

“With pleasure!” he smiled, taking his wand. Without hesitation, he waved it in the direction of his friends, summoning a beautiful white carriage behind them which would carry Harry and Tonks around the estate. Leads attached themselves to either side of Ron and Hermione’s bridle, and traces from the vehicle attached to their harnesses, two for each pony. The two grumbled and whined about their predicament, but relented without question, and waited for their masters to board the carriage. 

Tonks and Harry stepped aboard, sitting down on the bench side by side. Tonks took the reins in one hand and wrapped her arm around Harry with the other. Harry leaned in close to her, looked up and saw that she had transformed herself back into a young man again, just for him. He smiled as he rested his head on Tonks’ now-broad shoulder as he gently cracked the reins. Ron and Hermione obediently trotted forward, pulling the carriage and its two passengers along They trotted as if they had always done this, perfectly in sync and beautifully shined and svelte. Their butts seemed to jiggle with each step, and their tails swayed as well. 

They spent the evening touring the estate, Ron and Hermione as obedient rubber ponies and Tonks and Harry snuggled close, whispering sweet nothings to each other as they exchanged kisses and nuzzles. They absentmindedly fondled each others’ bulges until nightfall, where the fun continued in bed while their good subs were bound and gagged in the dungeon, as happy as could be. It was the best of times for the Rubber Trio and their shapeshifting dominatrix, and the storied walls of Oldark bore witness to it all and then some, and many more for years to come.