Okay, it took a while because stuff was happening and life got in the way. Quidditch game next! I don't get super messy very often, but the fans of violence and gore should definitely keep an eye out for that one ;)

I hope you enjoy!


Ravenclaw Tower


It was another beautiful day at Hogwarts. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Ravenclaw House was getting ready for war.


Okay, not war, they were getting ready for a Quidditch game. But their preparations were just as brutal, and war would actually have a lower fatality rate. This match was against Gryffindor this week, Ravenclaw knew that they were the underdogs, so they were going all out. There were puffs of smoke and loud bangs, and so many other noises. The entire Ravenclaw Tower looked like some unholy cross between a laboratory, a factory, and a brutal crime scene.


There were Ravenclaws all over, wearing lab coats if they bothered with clothes (skimpy Halloween type ones, with significant skin showing), goggles and gloves, playing with test tubes and lasers, and modifying broomsticks to give them an edge. Some had guns packed into the front, nets, even explosives for kamikaze runs, as well as a few more exotic toys.


One little Ravenclaw messing with different chemicals was engulfed in a blue cloud of smoke and started to scream as it ate through her surface, dissolving clothes and outer layers of skin, blinding her, and when she fell to her knees shrieking, she inhaled it and died in silent agony as it ate her lungs. A tall girl in a special suit, holding a vacuum walked over and sucked up the remaining gas. The other two girls who had been working on it looked at each other and grinned “Well THAT will do the trick!” one exclaimed. They made more of the mixture and carefully cooled and stored it in liquid form to drop on the other team. Gryffindor would fly in with swords and spears, Ravenclaw athletes were not as fast or brawny, they had to fight smart.


Maureen was sitting over in the corner with her girlfriend in her lap. The captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Maureen was just beautiful. She was athletic, but not on the level of some of the other Quidditch players, even in her own house. She was tall, fit, but slender, with modest breasts and the clearest green eyes. What people noticed most was her smile, warm and welcoming, and she acted as a counselor for a lot of the girls who hadn’t been quite ready to come on a big adventure like this school, or had nightmares, or had just lost a girlfriend, or anything else. She just had that was presence that people trusted. She was not the captain because she was the best player, she was the captain because she understood what her players needed, and they would follow her into Hell.


Maureen was in her 7th year, which was virtually unheard of. Girls technically COULD graduate from Hogwarts, but the school had been open for 40 years and had two graduates. She had been team captain for 3 years, and rumor had it that the Gryffindor team was gunning for her. She had caused the death of their captain in the final game of the previous season, and they wanted revenge. Maureen didn’t mind, she had been like most girls to come here, she was excited, she loved the quirky classes and the sense of family with her House, but the idea of survival had never been one she took seriously. She had been surprised to live this long, then had just started to think she might live to graduation. Then the rumor floated around, and Maureen was back to being pretty sure that this was her last game. Truth be told, she liked it better this way. Graduation and a life ahead of her were ideas that brought too many possibilities, too many choices. Maureen didn’t especially WANT to be an adult, that seemed more daunting than death. To that end, she had decided to take out another captain and requested an exploding broom for the game. No matter what Gryffindor did, it would be her last.


When she had announced this decision, it had been greeted with much sadness. Maureen was technically as disposable as any of them, but she would actually be missed by more than her closest friends. When she had brought it up, her girlfriend, a 15 year old Hufflepuff named Helga had been inconsolable. Helga was not really a loli anymore, but her heart was very young. She was adorable, blonde with big blue eyes and pigtails. She was chubby and even though she had the face and spirit of a child and most people just wanted to hug her, she had some of the best tits and ass in the school. She wore sweatpants and hoodies whenever possible, because like all Hufflepuffs, she prioritized comfort over showing off. That did NOT make her a prude, some of these towers were just a little chilly after the warm, cookie-sented Hufflepuff Tower. She was on a couch with Maureen, the two of them making out, with Maureen’s hand up Helga’s hoodie, squeezing her large breast.


Helga had been so sad when Maureen decided not to survive the game. She cried and tried to talk Maureen out of it, and wondered what her own future would be like. Their relationship was very open, and Helga couldn’t stand the idea of another student taking her as a pet, especially one of those awful Gryffindors, looking to have her as a prize! Helga thought just for a moment that she would rather die than be paraded back to Gryffindor Tower as the spoils of war, the lover of a vanquished opponent.


Once she had that thought, Helga had pondered it for another minute and it all fell into place. If Maureen was not going to survive past this game, neither would Helga, problem solved! She went over to the group of Ravenclaws who were always creating new culinary toys, she said she wanted to volunteer to be the feast the night before the game and asked if they had anything they had been wanting to try out? Maureen had objected at first, to the death of her girlfriend and to her being the test subject for something that might really hurt, but Helga had talked to her. The way Helga saw it, Hufflepuff wasn’t really a house, just a collection of pets and playthings and living pillows. They had a long tradition of being unwitting test subjects of devices whipped out by other Houses during class, her volunteering was just the Hufflepuff thing to do. She told Maureen about her fears of being taken by Gryffindor and said that it was this or Helga would jump from the top of the tower.


Maureen had obviously relented, she couldn’t say no to that face, and Helga’s concerns were very valid. Maureen remembered the day after the Slytherin head of House had been killed in a ‘wizards duel’, basically two girls with vaguely magical looking staffs using them as quarterstaffs. No sooner had the Gryffindor fighter shoved their stave so far up the ass of the Slytherin champion that it came out her mouth than the Hufflepuff the loser had been fond of had been grabbed and dragged to Gryffindor Tower, her screams had been heard for a full day, and when they had disposed of her remains, it looked like they had carved off slices of meat from the living girl. Nope, Helga was NOT going to outlive her lover and guardian.


And so it went that Helga had made her offer three days prior, and the culinary nerds had been DELIGHTED! They hadn’t told her what all they wanted to use, but there was one thing in particular that they and the chemists had worked together on and wanted to try, They had given Helga a pill and she had taken it without question. Because really, she was going to be dead in a couple days, what was the WORST thing that could happen? They had been giggling as she took it, but helga was happy to play their game. Within an hour, her boobs had started to feel very sensitive, then right at the cusp of being actively sore an hour after that. She had found a mirror to check, and her areolas, which had previously almost blended with the pale globes on her chest and definitely been ‘ghosts’ were now much darker. Helga couldn’t be sure at first, she had always been generously endowed, but they seemed larger. Three hours after the pill, they were definitely bigger, and then Helga started lactating, milk droplets forming almost constantly on her nipples and staining her hoodie, much to her confusion and then amusement.


The little Ravenclaw chefs didn’t actually know if the effects of the pill would wear off or were permanent, they had been looking for a test subject who knew the day of their death in advance so they would have time to observe, but not so long that it would bother them. So Helga had been leaking for three days and thinking it was pretty funny the entire time. Her tits were sore, and they bruised VERY easily, but everybody wanted to suck on them, get a taste of her sweet, creamy milk, and that was nice. Soon enough, every girl in Ravenclaw found herself with bigger tits, actively lactating. They all laughed it off for now, but the culinary nerds were told on no uncertain terms that if it didn’t stop in a week, they would be punished, it would ruin their shirts if they kept leaking like this! Helga thought it was all hilarious, and the wannabe mad scientists assured her that the milk cooking into her would make her meat the sweetest any girl had ever produced. She didn’t care if it lasted forever, that was like two days.


Another side effect (as the pill and now the milk Helga produced seemed to have strong hormonal components) was that Ravenclaw, once the least sex obsessed House (meaning most of them only got laid 4-5 times a week) devolved into basically just a running orgy. They sucked and fucked and the whole House was a pile of happy flesh for two solid days. There were a few fatalities, a few mid-orgasm mishaps with gas and lasers and such, but it was so much fun! But a few of them kept their wits about them enough to remember that it couldn’t last forever.


At the end of the second day, the culinary nerds knew they needed to move on. It took a lot of prompting to get everyone back on track, everyone was pleasantly exhausted, one younger girl did curl up for a nap in the corner and not wake because her heart gave out. But the rest helped usher a flushed and sweating and HAPPY Helga into the kitchen. There were lots of hugs and kisses, and milk from quite a few leaking teats clung to her skin. Helga felt so incredibly loved which was all the sweetheart Hufflepuff could ever really remember wanting.


They started off pretty traditional, laying her out in a large baking pan designed specifically to hold a girl, and they trussed her like a turkey, her arms pressed in to enhance her already phenomenal breasts, and all holes exposed. Nothing too Ravenclaw about it yet, this was just the poster for every lighthearted family holiday movie, including the Potter Christmas special, in which Luna had lost her job and her friends had been kind enough to roast her. They were such good friends to help her figure out her next (and last) move like that, Helga adored that movie.. Then the nerds rolled in some large machines and they got more on theme.


The first machine extended robotic arms and took a knife, slicing vegetables and letting them rain down on the girl as they rolled up what looked like a vacuum cleaner. Helga cried out in shock as the end was shoved into her pussy. She and it were both well lubricated, hut it was still fast and sudden and hurt like a witch! And that was nothing compared to when it started pumping stuffing in her. Helga was not a masochist, she was a teddy bear, and she started to cry as her body was pumped full of stuffing and her belly expanded painfully. The nerds seemed to realize that they and their machines had been too rough and moved on to a butter rub, which helped Helga stop crying and enjoy the intimacy. One girl squeezed Helga’s aching boobs and they all laughed as they squirted milk in the air.


One nerd got an odd device with large suction cups and tubes, placing them over Helga’s nipples. They started pumping and Helga watched with wide eyes as the comical amounts of milk flowed through the tubes and pooled around her body for her to cook in. Then came a liberal sprinkling of spices, which made her sneeze, and the prep was basically done. One of the nerds pushed a button which made the pan vibrate pleasantly, and after a juicy apple was placed in her mouth, four girls helped get Helga into the oven.


Helga shivered as the door closed. Not in cold, the oven was already warmer than the room outside, but out of a fear she hadn’t expected to feel. This was really it. Helga hadn’t changed her mind, she didn’t want to back out, but it was all feeling more real. She had gotten her last hug, her last kiss, her last human contact in this lifetime. She wasn’t afraid to die, but she was a Hufflepuff, her entire life had been spent being super affection, and receiving affection in turn. To be suddenly cut off from that, with no hand to hold, it was intimidating. But the oven was heating up now, Helga could feel her heart beating more slowly, she struggled to breathe, and her thoughts slowed to a crawl. She didn’t have the last thought she had expected, hoping that they would enjoy her meat. She thought of Maureen, of the wonderful nights with her lover. She hoped that the Ravenclaw girl would die painlessly, and she hoped to wait for her on the other side. Helga closed her eyes, drifting away dreaming of a hug.


Hours later, Helga was pulled out of the oven and served. Her meat was obscenely sweet and juicy. The nerds had documented every step, their methods were going to be the talk of the school. They were congratulated on their success as Helga’s bones were picked clean, each bite sweeter and more tender than the last. There were some final warnings about how they would be flayed with lasers if the lactation didn’t stop in a few days, but they also had their pick of bedmates for that last night before the game. Maureen took one for the last night of her life, and as she gently snuggled the biologically 13 year old, Maureen fell asleep and dreamt of Helga.