Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. So is Necrophilia. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don't own Harry Potter series, or any of the characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content. This was written for the prompt 'Triplet'.
Description: Tonks' corpse proves too tempting.
Content Codes: MF, ncon, pwp, necro, snuff.
Harry Potter: Nymphadora Necrophilia Part 4
by JD ([email protected])
Asleep mere minutes, Harry awoke bleary eyed,
"Three were slyly led,
Three fucked her just freshly dead,
Three wet holes they spread.
Three her firm breasts mauled,
Three left her defiled corpse sprawled,
Three wet holes they balled.
Three blur hate with need,
Three cruel men did this deed,
Three wet holes took seed."
He frowned. Never entirely comfortable with poetry in any form, the appalling taste and quality of the haiku triplet was exacerbated by the strange Howler delivery. After speaking in the raspy whisper of the sick, it didn't explode, but faded away leaving a foul smell. The poem made no sense to Harry, but subliminally reminded the boy who famously lived that many friends were dead down below. He assumed the non-howling Howler to be a final twisted Death Eater assault. Awakened and depressed, he went down to say yet further final goodbyes.
Professor Flitwick passed him with a sympathetic nod. Harry was sure the old man was whistling before hearing his approach. Immediately he entered the hall, Harry's eyes were drawn to a momentary fuzziness of the air above one of the bodies. Feeling as if he had nothing else to fear, Harry immediately investigated. He found Tonks; as pretty as she'd always been. Mouth dry, Harry tried to find the right words of grief.
"Harry... you came..."
Her eyes flickered open. Weak, clouded. She looked dead. Harry shuddered, and blinked, convinced he was hallucinating. Tonks' hand reached for his wrist, and he knew it was real.
"I'll get help!"
"No. Only you can save me. They told me I could come back for... for.." Tonks appeared to concentrate hard, then "...my son, if another gave their life in my place. Please, Harry. Not much time, for him..."
Tonks' hand dropped, weaker, she barely rasped out a final plea,
"Please! Don't let me die again... Kiss me if you want to save me..."
His whole life ahead of him, love with Ginny, friends... but Harry had often shown himself selfless, and deep inside believed that, with Voldemort defeated, there was nothing left for him anyway. Young Teddy's father was dead, still and cold across the aisle from Tonks, and the child surely deserved one parent. Harry reached down and kissed Tonks; something he'd fantasised like many of his peers. The taste on her tongue was foul, but immediately she responded. Nearby candles flicked out as spell's last phase began.
There was no breath to yelp with as Harry's life gushed from his body and into Tonks. He collapsed to his knees even as she heartily swung up into a sitting position. He felt as if he'd walked into the coldest blizzard imaginable; it seemed as if ice shards slashed straight through him. Barely able to open his eyes, he saw Tonks wincing as she pulled him up onto her former last resting place. He didn't know how sore she felt, from her crotch to her throat. He did know the expression of terrible triumphant cruelty on her face was like nothing he'd even known from Tonks.
"Stupid! Stupid as my niece! With her weak mind gone, this body will serve me well... now I am the brightly shining one! What will they think, when they find you dead here?"
Harry knew then that he'd sacrificed himself for Bellatrix. The woman was evil and crazy with it. She'd learned a little in Voldemort's service and found a way to escape her death, activating the spell in her final seconds rather than using her wand to strike Molly down. It took the seed of three inside her new body, a consumed life, and one final splash of the dead man's sperm to seal the spell. She tugged his pants down, and amidst the deathly cold he felt heat on his cock. Guided by Bellatrix's twisted mind Tonks' fingers wrapped around his flaccid shaft and stroked him to delicious hardness.
"I have revenge! I've nothing else to stay for here. They'll never find me," she laughed, "Are you dead yet? I killed Sirius, I killed Potter..."
He wanted to scream, cry for help. He couldn't. Cold and afraid, looking into no longer friendly eyes gazing from a still hauntingly pretty face, Harry with barely a whimper. The last of his life faded into the resurrected body sitting beside him. Laughing like a banshee, high pitched and mad, she gripped Harry's organ hard and stroked fast. He felt clammy; the sudden magical death had drawn the heat from him along with his potentiality. Her laughter was choked off as she dropped her mouth to his cock and sucked. Though his brain was dead, his sperm was alive. She needed the last climax.
Infused with Bellatrix's soul, Tonks' tongue worked wetly around his pale pink crown. Gently jacking the base of his shaft, she 'throated him with almost the same force Goyle had used. Her new throat protested at the fresh abuse, but the cool hardness soon felt soothing as she bobbed her head up and down and jerked simultaneously. It was a tribute to Bellatrix's chaotic unbalanced mind that she could take such pleasure from her work. Where others might have seen sucking off the dead Potter as a necessary evil to ensure their resurrection, she eagerly got off on the act. Bellatrix shoved her free hand down to her wet cunt and roughly fingered the spunk oozing slit.
There was no warning, no sudden stiffening. Harry's cock simply erupted into her throat. Bellatrix swallowed every spurt until the last, which she let splash across Tonks' features. Once she had the knack of the body's Metamorphmagus abilities, Bellatrix fully intended to change them. In the meantime she gasped, happy to draw breath and live, happy at her foe's death. Falling across Potter's corpse, she rubbed his final load into her skin, enjoying the first self-induced climax of her new life seconds later.
She laughed again, deciding she could get used to taking dead men for lovers.
Feedback to [email protected]