She's Not Psychotic, She's H0rny

There were many places one could find peace at Hogwarts.

One of Hope's favorite sitting areas was located near the Greenhouses. The natural lighting and comfort of greenery swaying from hanging hooks above offered a tranquil experience. The calm, earthy scents of the space invited her to sit on one of the sleek wooden benches and enjoy the atmosphere.

Hope swallowed a mouthful of coffee that scalded her throat all the way down, pleasantly warming her belly. With one Grimore opened on her lap and a stack more piled next to her, she'd be here a while. 

It was a nice change in scenery. 

Turning the leaves of her book carefully, Hope read through sections and sections of her grandmother's work. Many helpful things resided in these Grimoires. Still, none of them helped her understand how to manipulate an alternate dimension. Specifically, one residing within mirrors.

Newt and Albus were working tirelessly to find a way to draw the cloaked man out of the mirrors while Hope was trying to find a safer way in. She knew they were all on the same side, but she felt a little estranged from them at the moment. As if they were battling each other, trying to find a solution before the final buzzer.

It wasn't that Hope wanted to go back into the mirror dimension, but she also didn't want anyone hurt if he was forced out of it, either. At least her way, only she'd be in danger, not the entire staff at Hogwarts.

The stress was getting to everyone, most of all Hope. She could feel the tension and pressure building, leading to more frequent headaches. Just last night, she had to excuse herself to go to bed far earlier than usual, hoping to alleviate the stress on her body. 

It felt like a boulder was pressing down on her. Throughout the day, the muscles in her body grew more strained and tired until she finally had to give in and let it crush her into sleep. When the morning came, she'd feel better, but it seemed the tension grew in intensity each day. Her body could handle less and less.

Tonics weren't helping. No amount of pressure-relieving orgasms seemed to do the trick. Additional exercise only made it worse. Hope wouldn't outright admit it, but it terrified her. The gradual process that she couldn't stop. 

It was like standing in the middle of the road, watching a truck coming- blinded by headlights. Hope knew she should jump out of the way, but it was like she couldn't.

"You've been at this for a while." A light, springy voice came. Professor Hadridge paused as she walked by, holding a green watering can that sloshed when she stopped.

Looking up, Hope glanced around but didn't see a clock. "Have I?"

"It's just past noon," she nodded, "I saw you come in and sit down at eight this morning. What are you working on?" Hadridge leaned over a bit to glimpse a look at the Grimoire. 

Hope slammed the book shut before she could get a good look, her heart lurching as heat rose up her neck and to the back of her eyes. A low growl rumbled deep in the back of her throat.

Immediately, Hadridge stepped back, her eyes widening as she clutched her watering can to her chest. "I-I'm terribly sorry. I don't mean to pry."

Blinking the heat away from her eyes, Hope lowered her shoulders carefully. She hadn't realized she'd tensed her body so much. It took a moment for her heart to slow again and even longer for the desire to rip Hadridge apart, piece by piece.

That was the most alarming part.

Hope envisioned slamming her to the ground, grabbing her arm, and yanking with such force the ligaments would tear and separate from her body. The blood would spurt like a water sprinkler, and Hope would watch the light leave her eyes.

"Hope…" Hadridge asked tentatively, bringing her back from wherever her mind had gone.

Sudden crushing guilt weighed on Hope's chest, and she immediately got to her feet and gathered her Grimoires in her arms, heart racing yet again. "I am…so sorry, I have to go," she grabbed the looseleaf pages she'd been taking notes on and crammed them into one of the books, holding them against her chest, "I uhm…I don't feel well. I've been a bit…sick." Hope pressed her palm against her forehead, feeling the heat simmering below the surface. "I'm sorry…" she hastily said again, not looking directly at Hadridge before exiting the Greenhouse and practically flying up the stairs.

The headache behind her eyes began to build, distorting her vision as she climbed the stairs and rushed down the hallway. Hope slammed into the nearest bathroom as the headache crescendoed into an earth-shattering migraine. Visions of white blurred her vision as she dropped the books to the ground and aggressively rubbed her temples, pinching her eyes shut as she gritted her teeth. 

"Come on, come on, come on…" she muttered, internally pleading with her brain to stop the sudden attack. 

Her stomach suddenly heaved. She rushed forward, crashing through the stall door, and gripped the toilet seat just in time for acidic coffee and reddish bile to rush out of her mouth. Hope's lip trembled as she reached forward and pulled the rope, sending her stomach contents down the drain.

Hope sat on her knees momentarily, waiting for anything else to surface. When it seemed safe to say she wouldn't need another moment to wretch, she leaned back against the door and wiped her sleeve across her mouth. The ache in her throat and the foul taste on her tongue were the only things that could make her get off the floor.

Her head still throbbed as she stood on shaky legs and traveled to the sink, where she turned on the faucet. She leaned down, gulping down the water quickly with need. As if she'd wandered the desert for days, and this was the first refuge she'd encountered in ages.

Hope couldn't remember the last time she'd thrown up. No, yes, she could, her twenty-first birthday party. She'd bar-hopped with her friends and had had so much liquor that night she could have lit a campfire with her breath.

With the faucet still running, she filled her palms with cool water before splashing it all over her face and neck. The headache had slowly receded, but a dull, throbbing headache remained. 

Glancing up, she met bloodshot hazel eyes. Dark circles and shadows lined under her eyes and features, creating a gaunt appearance. She'd been eating, though, and Albus and Newt had been trying to ensure she drank blood. The proof had been in the toilet just moments ago. Not to mention, she felt like she'd been sleeping constantly. Much more than usual, she looked like she was on her third day with no rest.

The girl staring at her in the mirror, who looked like her, slowly began to glare.

But Hope… wasn't glaring.

Hope's expression remained placid while a slow smirk began to form on the reflection. 

"That's not me," Hope whispered softly. "That's…not…me…"

The reflection's smile dropped instantly.

A shiver ran down her spine while goosebumps sent the hair on her arms standing. Without hesitation, Hope grabbed the soap bar on the stand and thrust it under the water. She made sure it was slippery with residue before beginning to paint the mirror. She pressed her hands against the mirror, smearing soap over her reflection until it was a blurry mess.

With heavy breaths, Hope took a step back and swallowed hard. The mirror was hidden behind a layer of soap, and the relief was palpable. She closed her eyes and breathed in, feeling much of the headache ebb away.

Hope took another moment to calm herself. She picked up the dropped books and carried them carefully out of the bathroom and toward the seventh floor, where the Gargoyle awaited her.

Tired. She was so tired.

It seemed to take ages to get to Albus' office, but when she did, she set the books on the side table next to one of the reading chairs and made her way to the bedroom.

Newt and Albus must have been in the Great Hall having lunch, but Hope's appetite was non-existent as she crawled into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, sleep consumed her.

Hope's eyes fluttered open as a palm soothingly rubbed slow circles against her back. Her gaze met soft gray-blue. A color she immediately recognized.

"How are you feeling?" Albus asked in a soft voice.

Slowly, Hope started to sit up and looked around. Night had fallen, basking the bedroom into darkness. "What time is it?" She asked, confused. It had been just barely 1 o'clock when she'd passed out.

"Near ten," he nodded, stroking loose strands of hair that had plastered the sides of her face, "Professor Hadridge has been very worried."

Her gaze cut to his in a slight panic.

"She told you?"

Albus nodded, focusing on her. "Would you not have?"

Furrowing her brows, she reached for the glass of water on the side table and took a sip to soothe her parched throat. "I would have. Eventually…"

"She was scared-"

"Of me." Hope nodded, but Albus shook his head and corrected her.

"For you. She said she's never seen you so flustered. What happened?"

Hope rubbed the space between her brows and shook her head. "I lost my temper again. She was trying to read my Grimoire." Frowning, she glanced over at him. "It shouldn't have made me as angry as it did."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but he squeezed her knee and nodded. "Come, you need something to eat."

"Where's Newt?" Hope asked as she crawled out of bed, taking hold of his arm as they went into the main study, but her question was answered as she found him sitting on top of his suitcase, making notations in his notebook.

Newt glanced up and offered a smile. "Feeling any better?"

With a nod, Hope sat on the chair and curled her legs, bringing her knees to her chest. "Better," she yawed, "I think."

The comfort of the fire snapping as it raged in the hearth was enough to help her body relax again. Albus offered her a large bowl of stew, which she took eagerly. The spiced aroma of spiced beef made her mouth water. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she got a good whiff. She spooned it into her mouth as Albus poured her a mug of blood he had warmed by the fire.

Warm blood was so much better than room temperature.

"Have you found anything?" Hope asked between bites. "Anything that might draw him out?"

Newt shook his head with a grim, tight-lipped smile. "Not yet, but we'll keep searching. You?"

"Nothing," she sighed softly, "if I could just get us on even playing ground. He manipulates the world to his liking, and I don't know how to move with it. Everything he did came as a surprise to me. I think I can take him physically, but then he morphs everything around him. It makes it impossible to get a hold of him. I remember grabbing him once and tackling him to the ground, but then it was like we went through the floor and ended up in a different place. By then, he'd already disappeared. It's like trying to find the White Rabbit in Wonderland. You think you're just about caught up when really you're three steps behind." Hope shook her head and swallowed more broth, staring down at its contents as if the bubbles would shift and magically form an answer to their problem.

"We will find a way," Albus offered gently, sitting on his heels in front of her, "we're going to find a way to stop him once and for all. We will end this."

Hope nodded, finding no way not to believe him. His earnest sincerity made it easy to fall for that promise of security.

When Hope had finished most of her stew, she stood to brush her teeth and shower. It was strange. She wasn't tired after sleeping for so long, yet she felt she could rest again.

"It's the mirrors," she said as she scrubbed her teeth while Albus collected a towel and change of pajamas for her, "it has to be."

Newt had moved from the study to the bedroom to continue writing notes in his book. Not to be excluded from the conversation.

"Why do you say that?" Newt asked from his place on the edge of the bed.

Hope shrugged. "Something about one of the mirrors made me…unsettled. I don't remember what it was, but something didn't feel right when I looked in the mirror in one of the bathrooms. I still think he's somehow controlling things through the mirrors. We just can't see him. Not unless he wants us to."

The shower turned on, and Hope glanced over her shoulder to see Albus, naked, testing the water temperature with his hand.

She couldn't help but smile as he looked her way and grinned. "Mind if I join you?"

Hope nodded. "I think I could use the company," she said as butterflies rushed through her belly, appraising him from head to tip. Biting her lip, she slipped her shirt off and let it drop into the hamper. She was still wearing the clothing from earlier that morning; it felt nice to take her bra off and let her breasts breathe.

When the rest of her clothing had hit the ground, she stepped into the shower and breathed a sigh as the warm water cascaded down her body. A moment later, Albus stepped in behind her. Hope leaned back against him as his arms wrapped around her frame, pressing soft kisses against her neck.

"I'm going to Hogsmeade tomorrow to visit Credence and Aberforth. Would you like to join me?" He asked against her ear, fingers kneading her hips lightly.

"Hm," Hope smiled, closing her eyes, "sure. I could use some time away." Away from the mirrors, that is.

Albus' lips traced lightly along her jaw while his fingers touched her chin, turning her head lightly so their mouths could meet. Spinning herself to face him, Hope wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her tongue tangle with his under the fall of water.

Hope lightly bit down on his lower lip as her fingers traced the contours of his body. He continued down his stomach before gliding across his hip bones, stroking through the dark hair that curled there. A deep ache within her began to grow, and the moan on his tongue sent a flush of heat through her body.

"I need you…" Hope whispered against his shoulder.

No further words needed to be said as Albus gently guided her backward, letting her rest against the narrow ledge on the side of the shower. Hope had just enough room to sit on, so she did. Albus leaned forward, pressing a hand against the side of her head while the other cupped her sex.

Hope's eyes rolled back just as his middle finger glided through her soaked folds.

"Do you want me to make you come, Hope?" His voice compared to smoked bourbon, it made her insides warm.

Biting her lip, she nodded as his finger roamed, massaging everywhere but the little bud of nerves that begged for attention.

"Yes, sir…" she breathed, looking up at him, highly aware that Newt had inched a bit closer to the door to watch just as his finger circled her entrance and pushed into his second knuckle.

"I'm going to make you come," he murmured, adding a second finger- his ring finger, and began pumping in and out of her, making her eyes go crossed, "and you're going to take everything I give you. Even when you cry. Even when you think you can't take it anymore. Isn't that right, darling?"

Hope nodded with a soft whimper, cheeks flushed with heat as he continued fingering her. Her ass clung to the edge of the ledge, knees spread wide for him.

"I'm going to make sure you're clean." Albus then picked up a sponge and wet it under the water. He then used it to gently clean between her thighs and along her inner labia. Hope bit her lip hard as she watched him rub gentle circles against her clit. Her toes curled, and her hips squirmed a little, as the texture of the sponge sent sparks through her veins. He didn't stop his assault on her g-spot, combining the two points for an excruciating build-up.

Leaning her head back, she tried to focus on anything but the growing pleasure threatening to overflow her.

When Hope was confident she was about to burst, Albus lifted her legs and took hold of her ankles. He pinned them against the shower wall on either side of her head, exposing her completely. 

He guided the tip of his hardened cock to her entrance, feeding it to her inch by glorious inch. Hope gasped, letting her head fall against the wall, stretching to fit him deeply. She adjusted to him, feeling wonderfully full before he began thrusting his hips.

"Fuck…" Hope gasped, looking up at him and finding he was gazing down at her with the most attractive, possessive gaze she'd ever seen him hold.

"You like it?" He asked with a half-smirk. "Dirty little Tribrid…"

Hope whined, her bottom lip trembling as he continued his slow thrusts. They were absolutely tortuous, like someone scratching your back but missing the spot that actually itched. It felt amazing, but it wouldn't give her immediate satisfaction. He was going to make her wait.

Albus used one hand to hold her ankles against the wall. At the same time, the other lightly glided along her body before settling against her cheek. His pointer finger stroked along her bottom lip lightly.

"Open." He ordered a flash of something in his eyes.

Hope obeyed instantly.

Using his middle and ring finger, he pushed into her mouth and down her throat. Hope moaned, watching him through slitted eyes as she leaned her head back a little, letting him finger-fuck her throat.

"Good girl," he glanced at their connected bodies, "touch yourself, Hope. Now."

Hope moaned around his fingers again but did as she was told. Reaching between her thighs, she used three fingers to begin stroking circles against her clit. Her brows furrowed, the need to come growing into desperation. Albus seemed to pace his thrusts based on how fast she moved her fingers, taking his own out of her mouth, likely so she didn't bite them off.

"Oh…fuck. OH FUCK!" 

Her toes curled instinctively, knowing what was about to be unleashed.

Hope whined once more before the rubberband of pressure snapped, and she came hard around his cock. She cried out, eyes shutting tight as wave after crashing wave took her under.

Even as she was coming, Albus continued to thrust, now harshly. Chasing his own climax. Her body was now his to use, and she loved it. When he came only a few moments later, their combined cum splashed out and dripped down her ass cheeks.

It took a moment for them to catch their breath, but when they had, Albus lowered her legs and kneeled down. Kissing her from her toes to her pelvis.

Before she knew it, she was being dried, dressed, and put to bed. Newt lay next to her as Albus got himself ready for bed, too.

Newt's fingers lightly traced up and down her back. "How do you feel?"

"Hm, good," she smiled, looking at him as a slow smile graced her lips, "it was a good show, I take it?" She giggled lightly.

Newt's ears reddened. "Wh-what…"

Hope smiled and pressed a kiss to his ear. "You want him to fuck your brains out too. I can smell it on you."

Newt sniffed his shirt, which only made Hope grin, and Albus chuckled from across the room. Newt glanced up as Albus leaned across the bed and pressed a kiss against his lips. 

"That can be arranged." He murmured darkly.

Newt visibly shuddered, and to Hope's delight, she watched Albus snatch him from behind the knees and pull him so that he was on his back underneath him. Newt's little laugh was undeniably the cutest thing Hope had ever heard; she smiled, curling up under the blankets as she watched her men love each other.

Albus grinned and leaned down, pressing kisses up and down his throat, his hands busily unfastening his pants to bring them down. It was a shame to have to hide this kind of love.

Soon, Newt's clothing had been shed, and they were tangled in each other's presence. Hope watched, the tips of her breasts aching again as Albus turned Newt over onto his stomach to get a deeper angle. His hands pressed down against Newt's wrists as he thrust into him over and over. His lips caressed the back of his neck as they moaned in synchronous time.

Watching them fuck each other was easily one of the best highlights of the relationship.

Newt's jaw dropped as he came with a whiney groan, making a mess of the bed, but Albus made a mess of Newt. He came all over his back, painting his skin with thick ribbons. 

He didn't stop there. Rolling Newt over, their lips met, and they spent the next few minutes lost in sloppy kisses and soft moans. Hope was vaguely aware her eyes had closed when she heard the shower turn on a few minutes later. 

Likely, Newt was washing up. 

Hope didn't remember them climbing into bed as she fell under another black sheet of sleep.

This time, it wasn't devoid of nightmares.