mr_slymme (mr_slymme) wrote in hagridscock,

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It seems that everyone Hagrid knows and loves is dying. Looks like a sad night for our favorite half-giant. (Oh, and just as a warning, this does take place after The Half-Blood Prince.)
-Mr. Slymme

Hagrid: Thanks for the Mammeries

Hagrid sat in his enormous chair. His hand absently stroked his dog Fang’s head, which rested in his lap. Gloom filled the air. After all, he had attended Dumbledore’s funeral just that morning.

Hagrid stared at the wall, listening to a record Harry had given him long ago now. It was a muggle record, so it had taken him a while to find a way to play it. As the melancholy “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers wafted slowly across the room, Hagrid let a tear fall.

“Aye, Dumbledore was a good man, Fang. None better. I can’t believe ‘e’s gone. I mean it seems like jes’ yesterday we was at ‘is special ‘oliday party with some o’ the more open lasses.”

Hagrid stared into his cup of tea and watched the shimmering reflection of light. A shimmering that was not unlike the floating candles Dumbledore had lit for his holiday party. Ribbons and mistletoe had decorated the headmaster’s office. All the portraits of former headmasters and mistresses wore blindfolds. Hagrid stood in a corner with the Patel sisters on either arm. There was Dumbledore in his finest robes talking to Ginny Weasley. He opened his robes before her. Ginny was speechless.

“Yes, it is slightly shocking at first,” Dumbledore admitted as he handled his pierced and ornamented cock. “But then again, so is disco.”*

“Can I touch it?” she inquired.

“You can do more than that, if you like.”

Ginny dropped to her knees and sucked Dumbeldore’s cock into her mouth. It tasted slightly metallic, but pulsed with a definite power. Dumbledore stroked her hair and had a benevolent, contented smile on his face.

The memory faded as Hagrid thought about never seeing Dumbledore’s ornamented cock again.

“I’ve known ‘im since I first attended ‘Ogwarts, Fang. ‘E was always good ta me.”

Hagrid’s thoughts drifted back 50 years to a much more innocent time. He was a student at Hogwarts. Moaning Myrtle was still alive. Tom Riddle had yet to become Lord Voldemort. And Dumbledore was quite a bit younger, not the headmaster and only slightly pierced.

Hagrid had looked up to Dumbledore, who was always supportive and guiding. In fact, it was Dumbledore who took an interest in aiding Hagrid when he started to notice girls.

Hagrid was clumsy and oafish in his day. Girls either laughed at him or ran when he called on them. He had even tried the direct approach when he went up to a prefect he fancied, grabbed her tit and kissed her hard. Too hard. She was in the hospital wing for a week. Fortunately for Hagrid, she did not remember what had happened.

Dumbledore showed Hagrid how to be more refined and courteous. How to bring flowers or presents. How to recite poetry. And how to fuck their brains out so they’d never look at another boy again and swear to be your love slave forever. And of course, having an enormous cock like Hagrid’s came in handy.

Dumbledore would often have Hagrid hide in a classroom or office. Then, as the young giant watched, Dumbledore would bring in a student, chat with her, stroke her hair and seduce her. She would moan as he felt beneath her robes. She would beg for him to slide his cock into her. She would scream as he pounded her with a frightening fury. And he would whisper love sonnets in her ear as she came.

“’E was fuckin’ great when it came to…well, fuckin’, Fang. ‘Course he slowed down a bit as ‘e aged, but ‘e always liked ta watch.”

Hagrid thought back to times when it was Dumbledore who hid behind drapes as Hagrid seduced his fellow students and even a few professors. Dumbledore would sometimes send whispers to Hagrid across the room, to tell him what to do or say if a girl was a bit frigid.

“Never did double team anyone with ‘im though. ‘E thought sex was best if done alone…’course ‘aving an audience just added to the thrill, but you ‘never share the stage,’ ’e always said. ‘E even showed me ‘ow to use a pensieve to share me shags. Now Tom Riddle, ‘e liked to double team. ‘Course I ‘ad no way ta know ‘e’d betray me and one day become…You-Know-Who, s’right?”

“‘E ‘ad a funny way about ‘im. Too touchy, if yer know what I mean. Now, I understand that when two blokes are doing a bird, there’s bound to be a slap ‘ere or a grab there. No ‘arm innit. Just natural, I guess. But Tom, ‘e seemed more interested in slapping me arse or grabbing me cock, then getting a ‘andful ‘o tit. Cor, I remember one night when we both waz fucking Myrtle. Oh, she was a ‘ot one. Even with those glasses. And that schoolgirl voice, oh when she screamed, it took all I could to keep from cumming.”

“Well, Tom and I were both fuckin’ ‘er…or, I should say, I was fuckin’ ‘er. Tom was moving around, but ignoring Myrtle. He’d come behind me, slap me arse and say, ‘That’s the way, Rubeus.’ Then ‘e’d get in front ta watch. Funny thing was that anytime Myrtle tried ta take ‘is prick in ‘er mouth, ‘e’d pull away and look disgusted. Then, when I came, I pulled out and showered Myrtle. Well, Tom seemed to choose that moment to suck on ‘er tits and so he got a faceful of spunk. I apologized, and ‘e said to think nothin’ of it. Too strange fer me. I showed the memory to Dumbledore and ‘e said we should keep a close eye on Riddle. I started avoidin’ ‘im and Tom didn’t like that…not one bit. I think ‘e became jealous. It weren’t long before ‘e got me expelled by openin’ the Chamber of Secrets, murdering Myrtle and blaming ‘er death on me and Aragog. Poor Aragog. I’ve lost ‘im too.”

Hagrid hugged Fang closer.

“Aragog was a good friend, but not the type you show to a lass before you slam it in ‘er. No. Now Sirius...‘e was the type of bloke to bring when ya wanted a good shag with a friend next ta ya.”

Hagrid smiled as her remembered Sirius and him on one of their many conquests. It was both of them and Mrs. Weasley over at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She was on all fours on Sirius’s bed, with Hagrid’s enormous cock shagging away as she blew Sirius. Both would call encouragement to each other as Mrs. Weasley moaned in pleasure. Then he thought about Sirius being gone too and another tear welled up in his eye. Hagrid sat there and wept for his friends. He felt very alone. Then the record came to its end and Hagrid heard the faint scratching of the needle on the vinyl.

“Bloody ‘ell Fang. Crying like a baby won’t do any good. I’ve got to honor ‘em in a way that’s fittin’…and fer the likes of Dumbledore and Sirius…and even Aragog…there’s only one way ta do it.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Hagrid dried off his face, made his way across the room and opened it. There, in the moonlight was Fleur Delacour. She seemed distraught…most likely over the attack on her fiancé, Bill Weasley, that has left him scarred for life.

“I ‘ope I am not disturbing ‘ou. Madame Maxine said I should zee ‘ou ef I am ever troubled. Es not too late, no?”

“No, luv, in fact, I’d say you ‘ad perfect timing.”

Hagrid invited in Fleur and softly patted her bum as he closed the door.

“This one’s fer you, mates,” Hagrid whispered as he winked towards the ceiling.

*From the hp_hardcore valentine’s
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