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When the rut of 1999 began, it was widely expected to be unlike anything seen before. The previous year’s Season had been completely disrupted by the trauma and destruction of HWMNBN, and the usual hormonal cycle of the Omegas had collectively failed to manifest, with none at all going into heat. This naturally led to a great buildup of animus and aggression in the Alphas, and so it was with great relief that wizarding Britain greeted the autumnal equinox which signaled the start of mating season and the end of their collective strain. At last the tension would be released, channeled into the appropriate mating rituals and innate behaviors that had been shunted and suppressed the previous year. For 3 months Omegas would enter heat, maximizing their chances to conceive and bear offspring in the summer, and Alphas would respond accordingly. For Hermione Granger, this relief could not have come at a better time.
“Just hold still!” Hermione grit her teeth, frustration boiling over. “I’ll never finish if you keep moving around!”
Ginny whimpered her apologies, and steeled herself to endure the last painful throes as Hermione continued.
“Almost… almost… and… phew, done.”
Hermione stepped back and admired her work: Ginny’s hair was beautiful, a series of ornate braids woven into the particular shape Omegas used to show they were entering their first fertile mating season. Any Alpha would be able to smell such a fact immediately, of course, but for the Betas and Omegas it was an important social signal.
“Sorry about that,” Hermione said as her head cleared, “It’s hard not to get worked up in my state.”
“I understand, my liege,” Ginny replied with a small curtsey. This brief display of submission made Hermione flash hot, but it was still early enough in the Season for her to control the Alpha impulses coursing through her veins, minor verbal outbursts notwithstanding. In a few weeks, she likely couldn’t be around Ginny at all without constantly mounting her.
“Well, now you look perfectly submissive and breedable,” Hermione complimented the girl.
Ginny flushed. “I suppose you would know.”
“Well, it’s my first time, too, on account of last year’s rut being disrupted.”
“How does it feel for you lot? I imagine it’s unbearable to be so pent up.”
Hermione chuckled mirthlessly. “You have no idea. Some days I feel like it’s impossible not to go around flashing lightning out of my wand at anyone who looks at me. Other days I’m so overstimulated I need to just self-isolate in my room. You heard about what happened in Ravenclaw? The second- and third-ranking Alphas killed each other in a duel over their last bottle of firewhiskey! And they hadn’t even begun drinking yet!”
“That’s horrible,” Ginny mewed, her peaceful nature hurt at the idea. “I would have let both of them use me to blow off steam.”
“Don’t joke like that,” Hermione commanded. “Now that you’re sexually mature, you can’t show any signs of inter-Housepack affiliation. If Oliver heard that, he’d—”
“I know, I know. I’m just—”
“You’re not a child anymore. This isn’t a game. Everything is for keeps. For the rest of this fall, there can be no missteps.”
“Yes, my liege.” Ginny replied, subdued by the Alpha’s stern tone. Although Hermione was not as physically imposing as most Gryffindor Alphas, her magical power would likely rank her somewhere near the upper echelon; just how close she was to Oliver’s status would be determined in the coming Rutting Duels.
“Now go on and get out of here before your scent lingers too long in my nostrils. It wouldn’t do for me to take you before the rituals are complete. Although I would hardly be the first Alpha to jump the gun in their first Season, that kind of stigma is no way to start a litter.”
Ginny scurried out of the room, her swollen cunt raging in light of Hermione’s power and confidence. She reached her room and shut the door tight, panting from arousal and sliding a hand down her skirt. It was so hard to have Hermione staying here in the Burrow, even just for this one night, the entire clan of Weasley Betas carefully modulating the energy between the Alpha houseguest and Ginny, their lone breeding member. She only had to resist for one night, as tomorrow they would all join the rest of society for the rituals, and as she slipped deep into a masturbatory trance, Ginny allowed herself to fantasize about what might transpire on this one shared night.
***
When Hermione arrived at Hogwarts the next day, it was hardly recognizable. Not because of the reconstruction that had occurred after the battle last year, but because of the throngs of wizards and witches that had descended on the grounds surrounding the castle. For this first day of mating season, all else in wizarding Britain came to a complete halt as the entire society congregated at these breeding grounds. With students locked safely inside, with only 7th-years permitted to observe the rituals that organized this critical season, the Housepacks began to sort themselves, the castes within each assembling.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Headmaster McGonagall thundered over the crowds with the help of a Sonorous charm. “We are all so glad to be here, back to normal, cognizant of how much this day means. The events of the day will shape the next 3 months, and when we return here on the winter solstice the events between now and then will shape our future. The hierarchies will be reestablished; new litters will begin; and the future of wizarding Britain will be secured!”
At that, an enormous cheer rose from the masses.
“Now, first,” the old witch continued, “let us pay tribute to those leaving the breeding population after many long and successful years.” She gestured towards a gathering of a few dozen people making their way towards the castle, where they would be admitted to feast with the other retirees to regale each other with stories from their 2 decades as participants in the Season. “We wish them the best in this next phase of life, and we trust that this year’s debutants will ably take their place in the breeding population - a double class, in fact!”
At this, all eyes turned to the youngest members of the Housepacks. Amongst the Gryffindor Omegas, Ginny felt herself shrink at the attention, while on the opposite side of the pack Hermione bristled with competitive energy under the gaze of society. Between these 2 groups the Betas maintained a thick buffer, easily outnumbering the breeders combined, their neutralizing pheromones an essential bulwark against the raw animalistic frenzy seizing their fertile counterparts.
“Second,” McGonagal continued, “let us all review the rituals before we begin: each Housepack will head to their traditional breeding grounds; the Alphas will commence their rutting duels; and the Betas will herd the Omegas into the appropriate areas to await the outcome.”
The crowds were riled, chuffing, their hormonal surges peaking as the equinox sun approached its zenith. At that very moment of midday, the sun directly overhead on the day when light and darkness were equally balanced, their internal cycles would peak and breeding would begin. It was essential to complete the rituals before that time, and with a few hours left there was much to do.
“Finally… the words you’ve all been waiting for…” McGonagal continued, drawing out this last portion of her speech, “mating season has… officially… begun!” With a flourish of her wand, she dispelled the charms that kept the crowds in place, and wild torrents of witches and wizards streamed towards their Housepacks’ ancestral territory. The Slytherins skulked into the forbidden forest; the Ravenclaws strode down to the lakeshores; the Hufflepuffs gamboled into Hogsmeade; and the Gryffindors stampeded towards the Quidditch pitch.
Immediately, the Omegas had to be cordoned off into the stands, their brains so bathed in the hormones that came with being in heat that they were practically incapable of doing anything on their own. As the Betas cleared their charges from the fields and into the surrounding bleachers, the Alphas began their dueling rituals. For the next hour, bolts flew as curses were shouted with maximum intensity, and the Omegas swooned at the displays of power.
“Oh my! How terrible!” Ginny exclaimed upon seeing the grimace on Hermione’s face when a particularly nasty Stupify glanced off her wand. How strong she must be to shake off such a curse! Nearby, she heard Harry cooing and whimpering as well, his debutante braid already unraveling from sweat as he worked himself into a lather. The other Omegas were absolutely fixated on Oliver, and swooned with his every victory in the duels. As Alpha after Alpha fell into the losers bracket, Ginny caught herself hoping against hope that it would be Hermione who was left standing alone, and that she would choose her as her first prize. It sounded ridiculous - debutantes were often chosen as first to be bred on account of their fresh wombs, but it was usually by older, tougher Alphas at the peak of their strength that emerged victorious from the grueling gauntlet of combat. Perhaps she would have a chance with Hermione in future years, when she was strong enough to pick early while Ginny was still desirable. But with nearly a hundred Alphas and a similar number of Omegas, the odds were against any particular pairing.
“C’mon… c’mon…” Harry was muttering, and Ginny watched as his knuckles turned white gripping the railing at the edge of the stands. She saw that he also was locked onto Hermione, and she felt a twinge of sadness at the thought that even if Hermione were to win, she might pick him instead.
That soft feeling, however, was quickly blasted out of place when Hermione prevailed in her semifinal matchup, landing an improbable Petrificus Totalus on Arlo Gizamag, overpowering his defenses and sending him tumbling to the ground.
“Winner: Granger!” announced the Beta judge, signaling for his fellow castemates to remove the stony body. “Next up: Oliver Wood and Eria Fitternook, competing for the right to face this unstoppable newcomer!”
“I hope he wins!” squeed Harry, leaning into Neville’s ear. “He and Hermione would make a dynamite final match!”
“Yuh, an’ either one would sire a hell of a litter,” Neville panted.
Oliver dispatched Eria without breaking a sweat, her underdog bid coming up just short. Such an underwhelming semifinal duel was a disappointment, but all eyes now turned to the pitch where Hermione was taking her place opposite the supremely confident Oliver. As ranking Alpha and defending champion, he had every reason to expect another quick victory. But deep inside Hermione felt, as all Alphas did, that she was destined to win every time she picked up her wand.
“Wands up… and… duel!” the judge cried. Quickly, Oliver was sending over a rapid spitfire of minor spells, but her expert dodges and incantations ensured none landed home. She countered with hexes of her own, and scored glancing blows off the older male. Ginny and Harry sat rapt, just a few meters apart, each hoping for the same outcome: that the winner, whoever it was, would choose them as a mate that Season - and if it was Hermione, that would be all the better!
“Stupify!” Hermione and Oliver shouted in unison, their curses meeting midair and producing a fantastic shower of sparks. Hermione quickly pivoted to erecting a series of defensive barriers that would allow her to cast uninterrupted, while Oliver ran to her flank to find a good angle of attack. As his spells continued to ricochet off Hermione’s shields, he continued to bob and weave around the pitch, testing for weak spots. Finding none, he determined to power through, winding up his most powerful Expelliarmus and Bombarda casts aimed straight at his rival. But Hermione’s sturdy defenses had no problem absorbing the blows, and she felt the irrepressible strength of her Alpha blood rising with each of his futile attempts to strike her.
Ascending into a fugue state of power and aggression, Hermione’s force of will was soon surging out of her, and she levitated off the ground as magic crackled in the surrounding air. Oliver continued to flail hopeless attacks at her impervious shields. She rose and rose, now several meters above him, bolts of raw magic discharging from the field of power enveloping her. Although she hardly noticed, the crowd of Omegas was practically salivating and many were ferociously gyrating at the longing in their lions inspired by this display of dominance.
Oliver let out a furious howl and redoubled his efforts, but it was completely hopeless. If his spells even managed to get close to her, they were inevitably absorbed or parried back at him to join the hail of curses and charms and hexes raining down from his opponent. It was all he could do to keep fighting, the Alpha in him unwilling to surrender even in the face of an unstoppable onslaught.
“YIELD!” commanded Hermione.
“NEVER!” he barked in reply. But although his bravado remained steadfast, in his mind the seed of doubt began to take root. He’d given absolutely everything in this duel already using the same powerful spells that had won him top rank last year, but now they were accomplishing virtually nothing against this small debutante girl. Where was this strength coming from?? She didn’t have magical parents! She didn’t play quidditch! She’d even been pushed to the brink of death by a basilisk! And yet here she was, in her very first year of maturity, dispatching Alpha wizards and witches much older than herself to reach this point. As he gazed upon her awesome visage, shining with power, his will began to waver, his firmitude faltering, as she continued to overwhelm him.
Hermione was hardly conscious, so fully was she inhabiting her power, but on an instinctual level she sensed victory was close. The boy was fighting admirably, but there was no doubt in her that she would prevail. Long past the point of speaking spells aloud, she cast as fast as she thought, counteracting his magic and blasting him relentlessly.
“Petrificu—” he began to shout, but he was cut short when an arc of her lightning connected with his midsection. He doubled over, and Hermione moved in to finish the duel. From her very core, a radiant sphere of light grew and grew, and as she descended upon him, the sphere came to encompass him, and under its might he wilted. Coming to rest just a meter above his crumpled body, Hermione prepared for the ritual strike that would complete her victory.
“Rictusempra!” she cried, the tickling curse hitting home and sending her opponent into giggling fits. Sufficiently humiliated in front of all of Gryffindor by such an easily stopped charm, he knew the battle was over.
“Winner: Hermione Granger!” cried the betas in unison, and as the surging power of combat magic faded, Hermione came to her senses as all of Gryffindor turned towards her as their new leader. “Unprecedented!” the judge was crying, “A debutante taking the top rank as Alpha! This is one for the history books!”
Hermione felt the surge of pride that came with victory, and she was raised on the shoulders of her fellow Alphas. The duels now over, their battlelust sated, it was important that they now renew the bonds that held their Housepack together through the rest of the year. Every Alpha cheered and congratulated her - even Oliver, who knelt with fealty, knowing his place as second-rank would still grant him tremendous prestige and a prime choice of mate.
“Very well - this concludes the dueling ritual,” the judge proclaimed. “For the 1999 Season, the Alpha ranking shall be:
One: Hermione Granger (raucous cheers)
Two: Oliver Wood (huzzah! huzzah!)
Three: Arlo Gizermag (yayyyyy)
Four: Eria Fitternook (woot woot)
Five: Angelica Cole (old girl’s still got it!)”
…The count continued on and on, through every Gryffindor Alpha of breeding age, until finally the judge reached the bottom of the list…
“Ninety six: Seamus Finnegan (disrespectful murmurs)”
Now that the hierarchy for the next year had been set, it was time for the most important moment of the day: mate selection. The Beta wardens escorted the Omegas down to the field, where they began to mill about, stripping off their robes to show off their bodies and allowing their enticing scent to waft freely. They strutted around, lining up and occasionally bending over to present their estrus-inflamed crotches to the waiting Alphas.
“And now, first to choose, will be Hermione Granger.”
She strolled confidently across the pitch to the Omega herd. She took her time, circling the group, eyeing members that caught her attention and taking in all the scents. But as she made her rounds, one scent in particular came to push out all the others, a scent she was quite familiar with, a scent she found intoxicating every time it entered her nostrils. She soon could think of nothing else, and she began to move aggressively through the group, jostling amongst the desperate Omegas, ignoring their obvious attempts to seduce her with displays of submission and fertility. It did not take her long to find her target, and upon reaching the girl, she started deeply into her eyes, piercing her soul.
“Ginnerva Weasley!” she announced, grabbing hold of the girl by the hair and puffing out her chest as she felt her mate gleefully nod.
“Ginnerva Weasley has been taken!” the judge confirmed, eliciting groans from many other Alphas who had hoped to fill her with their litters. “And for your alternate?”
Hermione stopped in her tracks, unsure what the Beta judge meant. “Excuse me?” she replied, finding it hard to think with her mating hormones riled up.
“Because the number of Omegas is greater than the number of Alphas this year, the top Alphas are to choose an auxiliary mate until there are an equal number left, at which point they will pair 1-to-1.” he explained.
What a turn! Hermione could again feel her desire swell as she considered the possibility of siring 2 litters with choice mates. How wonderful and powerful it would be to pass on such genes, and to be seen by all of wizarding Britain to have started 2 families. The thought thrilled her, and she plunged back into the mass of Omegas, still leading Ginny around by her hair.
“I choose…” she began, unsure where her nose would lead her. She looked past Neville, past a pair of older witches squatting on the ground and spraying from their glands to increase their scent, and set eyes upon… “Harry Potter!”
A gasp went up from the crowd of Betas.
“Potter’s damaged goods! His mind is touched by darkness!” someone exclaimed.
“Scandalous! Unseemly! Stupid!” the jeers continued.
Immediately Hermione grew enraged and thunder cracked overhead.
“DO NOT QUESTION ME” her voice boomed, coming from everywhere at once. “I AM THE UNQUESTIONED LEADER OF THIS HOUSEPACK, AND I WILL REMEMBER EACH OF YOU WHO SPEAKS AGAINST ME TODAY” The offending Betas quivered in their boots at this, the Alphas kowtowed, and the Omegas practically fainted with lust for this omnipotent witch.
Hermione took Harry’s hand tenderly, and drew it up to her mouth, kissing it and rubbing her face on it to mark him with her scent. She then did the same to Ginny, and having formally claimed them both, took her naked mates on either side of her and walked deliberately through the crowd of Betas as they parted around her. She strode out of the stadium, heading straight for the first breeding tent in the designated area just outside the stadium.
As the murmur of the crowd faded, she heard the other Alphas making their choices in sequence. But by the time they reached the tent, the outside world was fading away, and the security charms activated as soon as they entered, ensuring nothing would interrupt their inaugural coitus.
In the center of the tent was a large, padded mat with all manner of pillows and blankets. She proceeded to dishevel them with her frenetic movements, her hormonal surge peaking with the exhilaration of victory and the claiming of these 2 mates. “Come.” she commanded, and the Omegas joined her on the pad.
“You first.” she spoke to Ginny, her first choice, eager to give her the best of her seed. “You help.” she pointed at Harry, and he immediately fell to arranging the pillows for Ginny, helping position her on her knees, chest flat to the pad, hindquarters raised to present her eager hole. She sat motionless except for the rhythmic clenching of her pubic muscles that would serve to stimulate Hermione once she was entered. And as Hermione felt herself begin to grow, she hurried to enter Ginny before it was too late. Soon she was fully deep in the girl, and as her tissue became more engorged, it quickly locked inside Ginny’s receptacle with no possibility of removal. Ginny continued to do her part, clenching her muscles and squeezing tight to stimulate emission. With their knot fully formed, she was positively gushing fluid that contained her unadulterated pheromones, pushing Hermione beyond all possible reason into complete obsession with her breeding partner.
“Hhhrrrnnn… Hhhhrrrrrrrrnnn... Hnnnnnggg!” their guttural cries echoed throughout the tent. Harry was sitting in front of Ginny, stroking her hair and toggling his own receptacle to waft his scent in the air. Ginny could hardly detect it, but to Hermione it commingled with the girl’s scent to form what would henceforth be the only smell she would hunger for. The feral openness of her partners, their raw fertility and vulnerability, would need to drive orgasm after orgasm, day after day, week after week, until they were both successfully bred, litters growing inside for the coming summer.
While Hermione continued to stretch Ginny to her very limits, Harry helped the girl by twisting hard on her nipples. This rough treatment helped submit her more fully, and as he continued with further tactics like biting her shoulder and smothering her head between his legs, he could feel her quaking with pleasure. Better yet, he could see in Hermione’s wild eyes that she was losing control, approaching her moment, and when he stood up and sprayed from his scent gland all over Ginny’s back it made Hermione explode in a way he never could have imagined. She came with a ferocity that frightened him, gnashing and snarling and grabbing and practically crushing the girl beneath her. Ginny squealed and screamed at the top of her lungs as her body matched Hermione, and with one final great thrust Hermione went limp, flopping forward on top of the girl, laying in Harry’s pheromonic puddle on her back. The two girls stayed there, completely still, for several minutes until the knot came loose enough for Hermione to slip out. Harry immediately ran behind them and moved with his mouth to form a seal around Ginny’s gaping pussy, careful not to let any precious seed escape. He applied a light pushing pressure to encourage it to stay inside, and used his tongue to move any trickles of cum back into his paramate’s cunt.
They stayed like this a very long time, Hermione spent and motionless, Ginny nearly broken from the intensity of the experience but completely blissed out, with Harry aiding her conception. When he finally disengaged his mouth, he realized Ginny was fast asleep, her body’s energy entirely devoted to what was now happening inside her loins. Hermione began to stir, and Harry’s own needs came swelling up again. He longed to be used the way Ginny had been, and although he was proud to help her with her first choice, his womb also called out with an unyielding cry for the gift of seed.
Assuming the same position that Ginny had, he presented himself to Hermione, hoping his allure would prove equally irresistible. The extra spray he’d secreted earlier ensured his scent was heavy in the air, and the more Hermione recovered, the more she began to sniff at him.
“I’m ready. Fuck me. I’m yours to breed. You deserve this pussy.” He encouraged her, wiggling his ass high in the air. “I want to feel you. You complete me. You own me. Fill this womb. I’m so empty, I need you to take me. Use me. Give me purpose. I’m so hungry for you. Take everything.” His talk and scent and easily accessible hole had sufficiently aroused Hermione, and she again had the same glint in her eyes that had preceded the astonishing domination of Ginny.
“Goooood boyyyy,” she purred, sliding up behind him. She was becoming so engorged that it was difficult for her to fit inside, and they both knew it would only get harder from there. So with a great effort, Harry pushed back as much as he could and slammed into her, successfully locking onto her just as she swelled beyond the point of no return. Harry’s own body took control from here, and he latched on to her tighter than even Ginny had. Keen to prove how submissive and breedable he was, he quickly began rubbing his cunt to further stimulate himself, and he passed the orgasmic threshold numerous times while Hermione was knotted inside him. By his 4th orgasm he could feel the pressure inside him becoming unbearable as Hermione reached maximum size, much bigger than Harry had expected, and in a last-ditch effort to get her off before he passed out from the pain he yelled at the top of his lungs “YES! YES! BREED MY GOLDEN SNATCH!”
This did the trick, and Hermione drained herself while he milked everything she had into himself. She leaned forward on him, waiting for the knot to disengage, and whispered gruffly into his ear, “Now you’ve done your duty. Be proud.” She remained on top of him, biting gently on his ear, and holding him flat with her weight. When she finally dismounted and rolled off him, barely conscious after exerting herself with her two Omegas, she used her final bit of energy to move Harry next to Ginny before curling herself up above their heads in a protective posture. They slept like this for the rest of the day and night, the tent their own little universe, while all around them a similar scene was playing out in identical private quarters, each tent totally impervious to what was outside.
On this day, in this field, the future of the Gryffindor Housepack would be secured, the next generation starting in the wombs of the bred Omegas. As life returned to normal, each breeding pairs would return to the Alpha’s home and continue to breed through the rest of the season in order to ensure conception. By the time the winter equinox arrived, every pair would know whether or not they were pregnant, and arrangements would be made with Beta families to rear the litters that would be born in summer. And next fall, the process would repeat, Hermione defending her status as top-ranked Alpha, with Ginny and Harry again watching, waiting, and wishing to be chosen.