Professor Potter

by CambrianBeckett

Summary:

Summary: In which Harry Potter is recruited to take over the DADA Professorship instead of returning to Hogwarts to finish his Seventh Year with the rest of his peers. As the one destined to defeat Voldemort, it only makes sense.

One of my current ongoing stories and caught up to where it's at over on all of my other websites such as QuestionableQuesting, Hentai-Foundry, Fanfiction, and Webnovel. This story will update twice a month, usually.

Links to my profiles on other websites can be found in the Notes at the end of the chapters.

Chapter 1: Prologue

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, Lord Potter.”
 
Harry startles, and then lets out a little laugh.
 
“Oh c’mon. You of all people don’t have to call me that, Andromeda. Besides, I really don’t feel like I’ve earned it yet. Let’s save the Lord stuff for when I’m older and have actually done anything worthy of being called a Lord.”
 
He knows immediately what she’s going to say in response the moment the words unthinkingly leave his mouth, but it’s too late to take them back. Giving him a small, knowing smirk, Andromeda Tonks simply shakes her head at that.
 
“When you’ve done something worthy, Harry? Perhaps something like defeating the same Dark Lord twice, hm?”
 
Flushing a little under his collar, the young Lord Potter shifts in his seat. He doesn’t quite squirm, but his discomfort is noticeable all the same. Honestly, even after outright beating Voldemort in that duel, he wasn’t used to the praise. They’d won, they’d defeated the bastard who’d killed his parents and his followers too, but it was still hard for Harry to accept praise.
 
After a brief pause, Andromeda lets out a low sigh, turning more serious.
 
“And besides, it seems fitting to address you properly, given I’m coming to you today as the newly minted Hogwarts Headmistress, not as family.”
 
Harry’s eyes widen at that, and for a moment he’s floored.
 
“Wait… seriously? When did this happen?”
 
Not that he expected to be told everything, but it’s still an unpleasant surprise to get caught so flat-footed. Still, even if he is the Savior of the Wizarding World, he’s also just a seventeen year old wizard who never even finished his final year of schooling OR his NEWTS. It shouldn’t be THAT surprising that he’s not kept in all the loops all the time.
 
“Just yesterday, as a matter of fact. You’re one of the first outside of the Board to know, actually.”
 
… Or maybe he was being kept in the loop. Blinking owlishly, Harry says the first thing that comes to mind.
 
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re fit for the role, Andy… I just guess I always thought McGonagall would be taking up the position, being Dumbledore’s protégé and all.”
 
Giving Harry an appreciative nod to make it clear she’s not insulted; Andromeda nevertheless adopts a thin smile in reference to the other witch.
 
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? But ultimately, it was decided by both the Board and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall that she wasn’t the best fit for the position. Namely because of those connections to Dumbledore, in fact.”
 
At that, Harry furrows his brow, honestly confused. Before he can ask for an explanation, Andromeda gives him one, albeit hesitantly.
 
“I think… no one can deny that Albus Dumbledore was an amazing man, Harry. He was one of the greats, a name that will be talked about for generations. But he was not infallible. He made mistakes, and in the wake of his death, even Minerva was shocked to find out how deep those mistakes ran. She knew about some things, such as his frequent missteps with you, but it goes… deeper than that. All the way back to Voldemort’s time at Hogwarts as Tom Riddle, in fact.”
 
Harry can’t help but lean forward, a little engrossed at this point. He could name a few missteps Dumbledore had made concerning him over the years. He could acknowledge that the aged wizard hadn’t been perfect by any means. But still… what was Andy talking about? For a moment, she pauses, as if thinking better of something. Finally though, she speaks, her voice strong and concise.
 
“Upon having his application for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship rejected not once, but twice, Tom Marvolo Riddle put a curse on the position.”
 
He thought he remembered Dumbledore saying something about that. Maybe? It’d been a hectic time, to be sure.
 
“As a result, no one lasted more than a year in the position in the last several decades. Obviously, Albus quickly discovered what was going on, and even wrote down in his notes that he believed the nascent Dark Lord to be behind it. He called in a few Curse Breakers, and they all worked together to try to discern what was happening, but in the end, the Headmaster did the unforgivable. He gave up.”
 
Harry winces at that. Because… yeah, in hindsight, it was pretty fucked, wasn’t it? If Dumbledore knew the entire time, if he understood that the DADA Position was cursed, then why didn’t he see that it was dealt with permanently? Though it did leave Harry wondering just what sort of magic Tom had found to make such a curse a reality. After all, before he came along, Albus Dumbledore was the wizard Voldemort feared the most. So how had he managed to set a curse that stumped even Albus, before even properly becoming the Dark Lord?
 
“Now, when this was uncovered in the wake of Voldemort’s demise, we had other Curse Breakers brought in. There wasn’t much hope of managing to unravel something that even the great Dumbledore himself couldn’t, but it couldn’t be said that we’d done nothing, now could it? All in all, though, Harry… there’s really only one option left, it seems.”
 
Blinking, Harry cocks his head to the side. In response, Andromeda smiles an apologetic smile.
 
“Why exactly do you think I’m meeting with you here, Harry?”
 
He’d thought he knew already. But now he’s not so certain. Still…
 
“Well, after you told me about your new position, I thought you wanted to make sure I was attending Hogwarts this year.”
 
 It’d been decided that given the fact that Hogwarts had been overrun by Death Eaters the year previously, the entire thing would be considered a wash. Everyone was effectively redoing the last year of Hogwarts. The First Year Class would be double the size as a result but given the losses the Wizarding World had accrued during the War; Hogwarts would still have less students in it than usual.
 
Regardless, his Year would be repeating Seventh Year… something that Harry knew Hermione was very relieved about, all things considered. His bookish friend really was such an academic sometimes, but Harry didn’t consider that a bad thing. Not at all.
 
When Andromeda doesn’t immediately answer him, he quirks an eyebrow.
 
“Did you… were you planning on offering me the Head Boy position, perhaps? I don’t know what to say, if that’s the case…”
 
“No, Harry. That is not what I’m here to offer you. And in fact, it would be more accurate to say I’m here to ask something of you. To beg something of you, even.”
 
Harry rears back at that, still confused. Luckily for his utterly befuddled state, the grandmother to his godson and the cousin of his dearly departed godfather doesn’t beat around the bush for any longer.
 
“It’s like this, Harry. Dumbledore left behind quite a lot of writings about all sorts of things. Including the curse that a young Dark Lord put on the DADA position. Within his more recent musings, as in the last ten years, your name consistently came up. It was his belief that, because you were the subject of a prophecy, because you were the one destined to defeat Voldemort… that you specifically were the only one who could break the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship.”
 
Harry… gapes at that. It takes a moment to process, and he hates how much the idea makes sense on first pass. But then he thinks about it more, and there are just so many problems with the whole concept.
 
“I can’t… I can’t teach Defense!”
 
That seems like the most obvious problem, so that’s what Harry starts with. Andromeda though, just raises an unimpressed eyebrow in his direction.
 
“Whyever not? Did you not do exactly that in your Fifth Year? I’ve spoken to several of your classmates, you know. Many of the people in your Year don’t believe they would have gotten half the grade they got on their OWLS without your help.”
 
Harry sputters at that, feeling distinctly hot in the cheeks as he tries to come up with a counterpoint.
 
“I-I’m too young! I never even finished my Seventh Year of Hogwarts! I haven’t even sat my NEWTS! Surely I need to be at least somewhat qualified for the position, right?”
 
Smiling a sad little smile, Andromeda shakes her head.
 
“I think we both know that’s not been the case, these last few decades. Even in your time at Hogwarts, just how many of your DADA Professors would you say were qualified? Admittedly, you would be the first person in modern history to become a Hogwarts Professor without having sat your NEWTS, but the Board has agreed with me that our need is great, and morally, we can’t justify waiting any longer.”
 
“M-Morally?”
 
Letting out a sigh, Andromeda looks off to the side.
 
“Harry… not all of the people who take up the position have survived. In fact, some have died incredibly gruesome deaths. Others have been reduced to fates worse than death. Some make it out, but is it right to risk it?”
 
Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, the gorgeous older witch looks Harry in the eye.
 
“That’s why, as Headmistress of Hogwarts and with the full approval of the Board of Governors, I am offering you both the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship, as well as an apprenticeship with me. While teaching DADA, you would also be learning from me, effectively taking your Seventh Year at the exact same time. By the end of it, you would be ready to sit your NEWTS with the rest of your classmates, I assure you.”
 
Harry’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish for a few moments as he stares at her, wide-eyed. Finally, he lowers his head and just thinks for a moment. He’s never felt less like a ‘Lord Potter’ in that moment. But at the same time… there’s a slowly growing certainty that she’s right. And sure, one might be able to chalk it up to his ‘Saving People’ thing as Hermione liked to call it, but the fact of the matter was, Andromeda had a point.
 
If he said no and they found some other poor fool to take up the Professorship, even with full knowledge of what could happen to them, it would still be Harry’s fault if the curse did decide to make them suffer for their presumption. And technically… technically, he was the only person who had managed to teach Defense and then come back to Hogwarts the next year. So, didn’t that sort of prove them right?
 
… Ah heck, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to say yes. Harry opens his mouth to do exactly that and lifts his head back up at the same time, only for the words to die in his throat.
 
“Of course… I am more than willing to offer incentives, Lord Potter.”
 
Having stood up while he was deep in thought, the new Headmistress of Hogwarts is suddenly, inexplicably naked. And honestly? For a grandmother, Andromeda Tonks looks incredibly fine. Her body has help up exceptionally well, and there’s not a wrinkle in sight, despite her being the eldest of the Black Sisters. Having met both Bellatrix and Narcissa, Harry can say without a doubt that Andromeda has the best body of all three. Though in all fairness, Bellatrix had spent over a decade in Azkaban, and when Harry had finally met Narcissa Malfoy, the woman had been in quite the state of worry over her son.
 
Even still, he’s suddenly got an absolutely gorgeous, utterly naked witch standing in front of him. Smirking a little at his silence, Andromeda saunters around the coffee table between them, and promptly proceeds to sit down in his lap, kneeling on either side of him as she plants her hands on the back of his couch.
 
“Like what you see, Lord Potter? You could have this and more, at Hogwarts. As both a Professor and my apprentice, you would have… unfettered access to me. I would always make time for the young wizard who’s doing so much for our school, after all.”
 
Oh fuck… this was… Harry’s hands are twitching, ready to reach up and grab onto Andromeda’s hips. He’s well aware that Andromeda is a widow. Much like her daughter now, unfortunately. Both Ted Tonks and Remus Lupin had died far too soon. But at the same time, he wouldn’t be insulting Ted’s memory by… by doing anything with Andy, right?
 
Oh, but what would Tonks say, if she ever found out he banged her mother? Maybe… she wouldn’t ever find out? Licking his lips, swallowing nervously, Harry finds himself rather mesmerized by the pair of gorgeous tits dangling right in front of his face. They were practically perfect, with just the tiniest bit of sag to them, but otherwise perky as can be.
 
… He was going to take the job for sure. That was already decided. And that would also make him Andromeda’s apprentice too. But should he go any further than that? Should he let THIS go any further? Did he fuck the new Hogwarts Headmistress right here and now in the sitting room of his own freshly inherited manor, or did he reject her in the moment?
 
Fuck, give him a hundred Dark Lords and a thousand screaming horcruxes any day. This was so much harder.

Chapter 2: Andromeda Tonks Pt. 2

It was all happening so fast. As Andromeda Tonks nee Black straddles his lap, completely in the nude, Harry’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly for a few long moments before he finally chokes out his answer.
 
“O-Okay…”
 
The new Hogwarts Headmistress’ response is a beaming smile as she leans in to give him a quick peck on the lips, before climbing back off of him. For a moment, Harry feels almost robbed, only to immediately feel guilty about that. Still, it does seem like she’s hoodwinked him… until she drops to her knees a moment later, spreading his legs apart and reaching for his crotch.
 
Sitting there on the couch, Harry can only watch as his godson’s grandmother deftly opens up his belt and then his pants, reaching in and pulling out his cock in short order.
 
“Oh my. This is a very fine specimen, Lord Potter. Or perhaps I should say Professor Potter now that we’ll be working together in a professional capacity.”
 
Her words are clearly just meaningless muttering as she doesn’t even look up at him while she’s talking, her eyes remaining affixed on his cock, which she now has in both hands. Harry can’t help but blush a little bit. He had something of a growth spurt in the last few years. Not overall, but… well, d-down there. He’d always been small in body. But then, when you’re starved and kept in a cupboard for over ten years, that will happen.
 
Apparently, his height would always be somewhat stunted, though all that really meant was he’d never be as tall as Ron or Neville. He was still of an average enough height and stood at eye level with most of the witches in his life. But where Harry had had his growth spurt was down below, betwixt his legs. It had happened after what he could only assume was years of good food at Hogwarts, and maybe some sort of reaction to the numerous potions he’d been plied with during his frequent stays in the Medical Wing.
 
Had Madam Pomfrey had something to do with his abnormally large member? Harry didn’t know for sure… though now that he was heading back to Hogwarts, and as a Professor no less, perhaps he would get the chance to ask her…
 
Regardless, Andromeda’s hands feel amazing on his cock, and she certainly seems to know it too, her lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as her eyes twinkle with avarice and arousal.
 
“That’s it. Let me see you in all of your fullness, all of your glory. I want it all, Professor Potter.”
 
“Headmistress…”
 
Harry trails off with a groan as Andromeda takes that moment to lean forward and swallow the head of his cock in between expert lips. It’s… much easier to coach this all in terms of a professional setting, despite how unprofessional his new boss is being. It’s much easier if he just thinks of her as Headmistress and himself as Professor while she gives him head… because the alternative is more than a little hinky.
 
What would Tonks say, if she caught wind of him and her mother together? Her son’s godfather and grandmother, getting it on in the sitting room of the Potter Manor. Yeah, it was a lot easier to just set aside THAT particular issue and focus on the pleasure at hand and the reason it was happening. Headmistress Tonks was desperate for his help, desperate for him to come and join the faculty at Hogwarts. And she would do ANYTHING to make that happen.
 
His cock jumps in her suckling mouth and Harry reaches down and places a hand atop the gorgeous older woman’s head. The eldest of the three Black sisters looks up at him with such perfectly stormy eyes inquisitively, her gaze questioning as he leans forward, taking a bit more of a proactive role in what’s happening.
 
“You want me at Hogwarts this badly, huh Headmistress? You want me so bad you’re willing to debase yourself like this? You slut.”
 
Andromeda’s eyes widen for a second, before she hums around his cock. It takes Harry a moment to realize she’s moaning, the reverberations from which go up his length as he tosses his head back and groans in response.
 
“Fuuuuck… yeah, just like that…”
 
Gripping tightly at her raven-black curls, Harry begins to thrust forward into the GILF’s mouth, deeper by the second until he hits the back of her throat. To Andromeda’s credit, she takes his cock with great aplomb, at least at first, seemingly having prepared for his size. Having taken it into account, she represses her gag reflex by swallowing continuously, her throat convulsing pleasurable around his cock, even as her neck bulges obscenely.
 
It’s a testament to what sort of experience a mature woman like Andromeda can bring to the table… but it also rapidly becomes clear that she’s not used to handling something of QUITE his size, because the more the young Lord gets into it, the less Andromeda is able to keep her composure. It starts small at first, with little hiccups in her gag reflex repression here and there. But then, as Harry pushes further and further down the back of her throat, ever pursuing that need for his cock to be completely encapsulated in between her lips… she rapidly loses control.
 
“Glughk… Glughk… Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
Her hands on his knees turn into fists that beat against his legs as involuntary tears stream down her cheeks. Realizing he’s gone too far, and that he’s holding Andromeda by the hair so she can’t come up for air, Harry releases her with a wide-eyed look, a little shocked and ashamed of his own… well, sexual aggression. Andromeda comes off of his cock with a gasp, the new Hogwarts Headmistress looking more than a little disheveled as she pants for air for a few moments, tear tracks going down her cheeks, just starting to ruin her eyeshadow.
 
“A-Andy, I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”
 
Letting out a raspy chuckle, Andromeda shakes her head.
 
“No need to apologize, Harry. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. I enjoy experiencing the exuberance of youth. It’s been… a long time since my husband passed.”
 
Harry grimaces at the reminder. At the same time, his cock is still twitching and throbbing and pulsating right there in front of Andromeda. Seeing this, she licks her lips and gives him a coy, teasing look.
 
“Think you can control yourself long enough for me to finish you off, Professor?”
 
Blushing, Harry swallows and nods his head vigorously. His hands don’t go anywhere near her hair as she goes back to bobbing up and down on his cock. She never goes further then halfway, but in the end, that’s more than enough to send him right over the edge. With a loud groan, Harry calls out a warning, but it’s immediately obvious Andromeda didn’t need it.
 
“I’m cumming!”
 
She’s already swallowing his seed by the time he speaks, her throat convulsing again as she drinks down his cum with all the experience that her years on this Earth provide. Thanks to her magical genetics, she might only look like she’s in her thirties at best, but the truth is, she’s a grandmother, a grandmother to Harry’s godson in fact, and that… well, magic sure is neat, is all Harry can really think about that as he leans back, his erection abating.
 
Standing up, wiping the last bit of cum from the corner of her mouth and sucking it in, Andromeda Tonks smirks.
 
“I’m pleased to hear that you’ll be joining us at Hogwarts this year, Professor Potter. I look forward to working with you more closely. VERY closely.”
 
Picking her wand up off of the table, she flicks it and is dressed again in a moment. As she heads for her floo, she looks back over her shoulder at him and seems to read something in the look he’s giving her, because her coy smile and teasing wink say it all.
 
“I do hope you didn’t expect me to put it on the first date, Harry.”
 
And like that she’s gone, a pinch of floo powder sending her back to Hogwarts as she shouts out the name of the school and disappears into green flames. Harry flushes at her parting remarks, a little embarrassed that he HAD thought they were going to have sex right then and there. To be fair, it wasn’t like she’d needed to be naked to choke on his dick, now had she?
 
… She’d been planning on toying with his expectations from the very beginning, hadn’t she? Letting out a huff of amused exasperation, Harry just shakes his head and tucks his cock back into his trousers, fixing them up before standing and staring down at the spot on the floor where Andy had been knelt mere minutes before.
 
… Maybe this whole thing at Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad after all, if he got to have fun on that sort of level with the new Headmistress.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Seated at the faculty table with his fellow staff members, Harry very deliberately does not look in a certain someone’s direction as he looks back at his thoughts from weeks ago and disagrees with them most vehemently. This WAS a bad idea… such a bad idea.
 
Needless to say, because he was a Professor, he didn’t have to ride on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the student population. He’d come in via floo, and even attended his first staff meeting already. Harry was a little surprised to find that almost every position at Hogwarts was occupied by a gorgeous witch, either from his days, or a replacement in the time since Voldemort’s second defeat.
 
But that wasn’t important, certainly not. Headmistress Tonks had just put bad thoughts in his head regarding work place environments. He needed to remember that what he and Andromeda were doing was both unique and technically very naughty. It wasn’t like he was going to go around looking for sexual relationships with all of his fellow Professors or something. That would be ridiculous!
 
“Settle down, everyone! Settle down!”
 
As the new Headmistress stands up, the students all stop talking and look towards the head table. Though, just because Andromeda is doing the talking, doesn’t mean that a vast swathe of eyes aren’t currently on Harry. In fact, there’s a lot of people currently looking at him. Some of whom have been doing so since they entered the room and haven’t stopped.
 
“As you all can see, there have been numerous faculty changes in the wake of the Dark Lord’s defeat. Many of the so-called instructors hired by Headmaster Severus Snape have either died or been sent to Azkaban. The scant few that don’t fall into one of those two categories have been let go. Likewise, a few others have decided to retire entirely, and have been replaced. I will introduce the new Professors now.”
 
As Andromeda begins to do so, Harry has to confess, he’s not really listening. He’s too busy trying to avoid making eye contact with one Hermione Granger. Out of all of the people at the tables below who are currently staring at him, hers are the eyes he can feel the most. She’s mad at him, presumably… and rightfully so, to be quite honest.
 
He… may not have told her about his new position. Though to be fair, there was a good reason for that. Even now, sat beside her, Ron Weasley is also looking up at him, and from the quick glance in their direction he gave them earlier, Harry saw the other boy’s grinning face. Ron was the first person that Harry had contacted about Andromeda’s offer and his acceptance of the position. The boy was Harry’s best friend, of course he was going to talk to him about it!
 
Ron’s reaction however, had left a sour taste in Harry’s mouth. The red head hadn’t let his jealousy get the better of him again, thankfully, but his reaction had gone too far in the extreme of the other direction, in Harry’s opinion. Ron’s initial assumption was that, because they were best friends and Harry was the DADA Professor, that suddenly Ron wouldn’t have to do any homework, and could expect a passing grade in the class simply by virtue of said friendship.
 
… Harry hadn’t known how to respond to that in all honesty, and the whole conversation had made him think twice about telling Hermione. He could just imagine his other best friend’s reaction. She wouldn’t expect freebies or handouts to be fair… but she would decide that Harry wasn’t prepared, and the last few weeks would have been hell on Earth as the brunette bookworm of a witch tried to cram every single thing she could into Harry’s head to try to prepare him for the teaching position.
 
Maybe it would have been helpful, but Harry just didn’t want to even let things go there to be perfectly honest. Was that wrong of him? Perhaps. And now… now it was coming back to bite him in the ass quite severely.
 
“And last but not least, as I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for… Hogwarts new DADA Professor, Harry Potter! Please, Professor Potter, stand and say a few words for us.”
 
Jolted from his introspection, Harry blinks and stands up, staring out at the expectant audience before him. The Great Hall is so quiet you could hear a pin drop as he opens his mouth, not entirely sure what to even say. What sort of speech should he give? Should he present himself as their Professor first and their friend second, make it clear he wasn’t going to go easy on them? Should he instead let it leak through that he was in over his head and was willing to just be the friendly instructor they’d all had in the DA? Should he give a speech at all?
 
Fuck, he was doomed, wasn’t he?

Chapter 3: A Defining Speech

In the end, Harry just doesn’t have it in him to be some sort of hardliner. He wasn’t going to act like Severus Snape (sans the greasy hair) or the sickeningly sweet Umbridge. At the same time, a speech of some sort was necessary… so, friendly it was.
 
“Uh, hey everyone. You all know me, of course. So I’ll be as straight with you as possible.”
 
He’s half-expecting hecklers, especially from the Slytherin Table. But not even Draco Malfoy has something to say at the moment. In fact, the boy is sitting there in his seat, his back ramrod straight, and his eyes wide with shock. The platinum-blond wizard has always been a bit pale, but it almost looks like the color has drained from his face upon finding out the authority Harry will have over him this year.
 
Does he think Harry would seek revenge for years upon years of bullying and schoolyard brawls? Well, when Harry put it that way… but no, in the end, Draco and his mother had picked the right side, even if his father had not. Lucius Malfoy was finally locked away in Azkaban Prison where he belonged, while Draco would be the Head of House Malfoy when he came of age. Until then, his mother was in charge.
 
Regardless, in spite of anticipating hecklers, Harry finds himself with a Great Hall full of wizards and witches who are staring at him raptly, giving him their full attention. Apparently, saving the Wizarding World gave him SOME credit, it would seem. Smiling weakly, Harry brings his hands together in front of him.
 
“I’ll just give it to you all straight, because maybe if the faculty during my time at Hogwarts had been a little straighter, things wouldn’t have been quite so crazy. It’s been discovered that the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts Position was more than likely placed there by Voldemort himself.”
 
There’s a wince that travels across the Great Hall as Harry says the Dark Lord’s name, but now that he’s gathering steam, Harry doesn’t hesitate for more than a second before continuing on.
 
“Apparently, back when he was still Tom Riddle, he applied to the DADA Position, many moons ago. Headmaster Dumbledore rejected him at the time, and in retaliation, Tom cursed the position. Well, as you all know, no one has managed to maintain their seat as DADA Professor for more than a single year since. Whether it’s scandal or death, each and every one has had to move on.”
 
Glancing to his left and right, Harry tries to gauge the reactions of the other staff at the head table, to see how they’re reacting to him just… spilling the beans. He had, after all, started out by insulting the previous faculty. But the key word there is ‘previous’. The vast majority of the positions at Hogwarts, at least the ones with the power to make decisions, have been vacated by their previous holders and replaced with new blood.
 
Some of the old guard are still around, like Professors Septima Vector and Aurora Sinistra. But they never had much authority anyways, and if they’re insulted by his words, they don’t show it. Maybe most importantly of all, Andromeda seems perfectly fine with Harry’s decision to explain things outright, a smile on her lips as she nods encouragingly at him to continue.
 
“The hope in having me take up the position is simple. Because of my destiny, it is suspected that I am uniquely suited for disabling or defeating any magic cast by Voldemort, even back when he was still Tom Riddle. Basically, I’m here to break the curse. As far as my qualifications go… well, hopefully those of you who were in the DA under me in Fifth Year remember some productive lessons. For all the rest, I simply ask that you give me a chance to prove myself.”
 
Smiling as broadly as he can, Harry nods his head to the Great Hall, and then sits back down in his chair. In response, Headmistress Tonks stands back up.
 
“Thank you, Professor Potter. Perhaps a bit too humble, but nevertheless a good introduction. As the Professor said, it is hoped that he will be able to finally break the curse on the DADA position. Of course, his own education will NOT be set to the wayside. As such, I have offered Harry James Potter an apprenticeship under me. He has been gracious enough to accept.”
 
THAT gets quite the reaction from the students at the tables in the Great Hall, and Harry leans back a bit, somewhat surprised as they all begin muttering and whispering to each other. Was the apprenticeship really that big of a deal? Given the way Hermione’s death glare had abruptly turned from accusatory to jealous, Harry imagined it just might be.
 
“I believe that’s all for this year’s Opening Announcements! You may all return to your meals. Dig in and enjoy!”
 
As Harry begins to do just that, piling up food on his plate and not just so he could continue ignoring the stares of those seated at the tables down below, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the stares of those around him. Harry is pretty sure that the Hogwarts Staff Table has never been more female-dominated in all honesty.
 
But one of those staring him down isn’t actually a witch at all. It’s the Hogwarts Caretaker, Argus Filch, and Harry can practically feel the slimy squib’s glare from where he’s sat. But… he doesn’t have to take that from the man, does he? He’s a Professor now! Fuck Filch!
 
Looking up from his plate, Harry makes eye contact with the glaring Hogwarts Caretaker and stares him down, not hesitating to do so. However, out of all the possible reactions from Filch that he’s expecting, what he gets… is most certainly not it. For a long moment, the squib continues to mad dog him… and then, against all odds, his face twists into a completely out of character smile, and a feminine voice emits from his lips.
 
“Wotcher, Harry.”
 
Harry very nearly jumps out of his seat at that, as Nymphadora Tonks, mother to his godson and fully-trained Auror, lets out a boisterous laugh while still wearing Filch’s face. Thankfully, a moment later, she transforms back into herself, albeit still alternating between snickering and giggling at his expense. The others at the Staff Table all look amused but unsurprised, and Harry feels the back of his ears begin heating up when Tonks points at him and gives him a wink.
 
“Knew I could getcha, because I saw you weren’t paying attention during my introduction! Very rude of you, Mr. Potter~”
 
The teasing metamorphmagus has the right of it. He’d been so distracted that he’d completely zoned out and not even noticed her presence at the table before now. That was on him, but he was still undeniably curious as to why she was here.
 
“Sorry Tonks, I guess I got lost in my own head. What uh… what ARE you doing here, though?”
 
Smirking easily, Tonks leans back in her chair.
 
“Well, Filch retired, of course. He was pretty damn brave during the Battle of Hogwarts. Earned himself an Order of Merlin, Second Class, for helping evacuate the students while all that fighting was going on. In the aftermath, he used the gold from that to go ahead and skedaddle, not that anyone would blame him.”
 
Harry nods along at that. It makes sense. For all that Filch was a menace, the man wasn’t truly evil. He was just… bitter and a fair bit spiteful. But that didn’t mean he was a Death Eater or anything like that. Now that he thought about it, Harry believed he remembered hearing about Filch’s Order of Merlin award. There was just so much else going on for Harry personally that it was hard to focus.
 
“… Right… and how does that translate to you being here?”
 
Here, Tonks winces a little.
 
“It was decided… mostly by my mother and Director Bones, that I would do better recovering here at Hogwarts then at a desk in the Auror Department. Plus, given all the shenanigans that you and yours got up to these past seven years, it was also decided that having a fully-trained Auror in the position of Hogwarts Caretaker might help keep things a bit quieter. Hopefully.”
 
That… made a lot of sense. Honestly, Tonks was lucky she’d even survived, and in as good of shape as she did. Remus hadn’t, but Harry wasn’t about to bring up the werewolf’s death. His father’s best friend, Nymphadora’s husband, and the father of Harry’s godson. They were all one in the same, and no matter how you cut it, he was gone and not coming back.
 
All they could really do was hope to move on and find happiness with those that remained. It sounded like Andromeda may have used her new position as Headmistress to get Tonks here… but also, it was likely that the Director of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, had seen fit to put Tonks in a safer position as well, a place where she would have her family with her. Harry was glad that Madam Bones had survived the war. She was a strict but fair woman by all counts.
 
“And Teddy?”
 
Tonks smiles fondly at the mention of her son, Harry’s godson.
 
“He’s with his grandfather at the moment. He’ll probably be around Hogwarts fairly often though, visiting either me or mother, or perhaps even you if you have the time for it.”
 
“Always!”
 
Harry tries not to sound too affronted, but judging by Tonks’ laugh, he fails. She giggles at him, her eyes dancing merrily, and then she glances out at the Great Hall and then back in his direction.
 
“I wouldn’t be so sure… I count several young women who seem singularly invested in your new position, Professor Potter~”
 
Harry blushes at that, glancing out as well. Hermione is no longer death-glaring at him thankfully, seeming to have recognized by now that he was pointedly avoiding making eye contact with her. But she’s still glancing over in his direction constantly, barely contributing to some great debate that Ron and Ginny seem to be having over something.
 
But she’s not the only one, Harry now notices once Tonks has pointed it out. There are multiple witches at practically every table who are sneaking glances his way. Harry can’t help but… well, he can’t help but let his mind wander back to what he and Andy had done back at the manor just a few weeks before. He had no idea what direction his and Andromeda’s relationship would progress, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t the only one he should be looking out for this year.
 
Realizing that he’s let the silence drag a little, Harry coughs into his fist and looks over at Tonks, who is grinning knowingly at him.
 
“That would be… inappropriate, right? The power dynamic…”
 
Tonks scoffs at that, and Harry, not for the first time, wishes she would keep it down.
 
“You of all people shouldn’t bother worrying about the power dynamic, Harry. You’re the Savior of the Wizarding World. You’re the biggest celebrity of our age. And you’re hot, young, and incredibly single. Any relationship you have is going to be skewed in your favor, so I say just enjoy whatever comes your way. So long as you don’t lead anyone on, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
 
Was it really that simple? The way Tonks was speaking… could Harry really just ‘enjoy whatever came his way’. She was right, in a way. The power dynamic WOULD be skewed in his favor. Except with Andy. As the Headmistress of Hogwarts, she was pretty high up there. And yet… and yet, even with her, didn’t he have too much leverage for their relationship to be equitable? He would never use it, but she was relying on him far too much for her to be in control.
 
They talk about other things after that, him and Tonks. The two have a good conversation for the rest of the Welcoming Feast, and then at the end of it, Harry retreats to his new quarters, more than a little drained by the day’s festivities. He was finally here, it seemed. Back at Hogwarts for what should have been his Seventh Year of Education but was instead his First Year of Educating.
 
To say that Harry really wasn’t sure how things would go, was the understatement of the century. But… at the end of the day, all he could do was put his best foot forward and see where the road took him, right?
 
With that in mind, Harry proceeds to get ready for bed, intending to turn in nice and early and get a good night’s sleep before his classes in the morning. Tomorrow was the real start of his Professorship after all, and he wanted to make a good first impression in the classroom.
 
However, before he can fully climb into bed, there’s a knock at his door, to his surprise. He doesn’t really know who it could be, he’s not sure who would even know where his quarters are by this point? Andromeda, perhaps?
 
Shrugging, Harry wanders over and unlocks and opens the door to see who’s waiting on the other side.

Chapter 4: A Late-Night Guest

“Wotcher, Harry.”
 
Harry blinks as Tonks give him a knowing little smile. Standing there on the other side of the door, the older witch looks slightly flushed. Is she a little tipsy?
 
“Tonks, hey… uh, come in I guess?”
 
Stepping aside, he immediately wonders if he should have invited her in so fast. Wasn’t he supposed to be getting a good night’s sleep? Wasn’t he supposed to be putting his best foot forward tomorrow? Wincing slightly as Tonks strides past him, Harry wonders if it’s not too late to rescind his invitation and ask her if she can leave. But no, that would be disrespectful. He’s sure that the mother of his godson has a perfectly valid reason for being here.
 
“What can I do for you, Tonks?”
 
Not answering right away, Nymphadora hums as she looks around his quarters appraisingly, nodding her head up and down slowly.
 
“Nice digs, Harry. Mom really went all out for you.”
 
The mention of her mother, Andromeda Tonks, brings to mind all the things that the older witch had done in her pursuit of him. She really HAD gone all out to get him here this year in this capacity, as DADA Professor. But Harry wasn’t about to tell Tonks the specifics of that. Instead, he lets out a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and shrugs.
 
“Yeah, the quarters aren’t bad…”

Tossing a look at him from over her shoulder, Tonks giggles a little.
 
“I suppose it’s nothing compared to the Potter Manor, now is it? Still, I’ve been exploring the Castle more than ever before thanks to my new position. I can honestly say your new digs are second only to my mother’s quarters, at least as far as Hogwarts is concerned.”
 
Tonks really was acting quite… strangely. Not necessarily out of character, not enough to make him worry that it wasn’t really her. More like… she was flirting with him. She’d never done that before. Their relationship had always been very close, very familial, but now it was like she was putting distance between them just so that she could act all giggly and girlish and… seductive?
 
Blinking owlishly at that realization, Harry frowns and finds that he’s repeating himself.
 
“Tonks… I do have classes tomorrow. What, uh… what did you need from me? Was there something Hogwarts-related that you needed to talk about.”
 
Now stood in the center of the room, Tonks twirls back around to face him properly. Then, a slow wicked smile spreads across her face.
 
“Sure, it’s Hogwarts-related. C’mon now Harry… you didn’t think dear ole mum would stop throwing incentives at you just because you said yes, did you? She’s relying on you. Which means even I’m fair game.”
 
And then, with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as she pulls open her robes, Tonks shucks off the outer garment to reveal that she’s wearing some incredibly sexy, lacy and racy lingerie underneath. The black outfit crisscrosses over her body in all the right places, cupping her full breasts and sitting high on her wide hips. Her pale flesh is accentuated by the lingerie perfectly, and as she disrobes, her multi-color hair turns the same black as her outfit, even as she gives him a carefree smile.
 
“Like what you see?”
 
Harry is, needless to say, speechless. Had Andromeda really sent Tonks to… incentivize him? He actually HAD thought that she was done throwing incentives at him once she got him here. What was Harry going to do now… quit? Not after that speech he gave in the Great Hall he wasn’t. No sir, Harry was in this for the long haul. He’d never been the sort to run away from his problems.
 
So what if he was worried about his first class. Yes, his nerves were on absolute fire over it. He was already pretty sure he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep anyways. Perhaps that was partially why he’d been so quick to invite Tonks in. But he was still going to see it through. He wasn’t going to back out without even trying.
 
It seemed that the Headmistress was worried he might though, and she’d sent her only daughter to try and make sure he… what, didn’t run off in the middle of the night? It was a little insulting, but honestly, it was difficult being angry when a very beautiful, nearly naked Tonks was standing right in front of him, showing off her lingerie-clad body and giving him a wide grin.
 
“Tonks… I mean… a-are you sure about this?”
 
Tossing her head back, the currently benched Auror lets out a laugh before stalking forward. She prowls up to him, invades his personal space, and reaches down to grab the front of his pants, to grab his crotch right then and there and give it a good squeeze. Harry lets out a light groan, his half-chub giving her quite a lot to work with. Cooing over that, Tonks bats her eyelashes and gives him an undeniably sultry look.
 
“I’m VERY sure, Harry.”
 
Then she takes a step back, releasing her hold on his groin in order to run her hands up and down her body. As she does so, as she speaks, her body begins to change in some considerably noticeable ways.
 
“You don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me back then, Harry. Obviously, with Remus still in the picture, you were never anything but the perfect gentleman. But you were also a growing teenage boy… still are in some ways.”
 
Her eyes dart down to his crotch and her smile grows even as her breasts slowly do the same, filling out the bust of her black lingerie quite nicely.
 
“In other ways, you’re all man. Just like I was all woman shortly after Teddy’s birth. My tits were as full as they’ve ever been, my hips were nice and wide, and my waist… my waist went back to being tiny as my pregnant belly disappeared. Those first couple of months after Teddy’s birth, my body was MADE to be fucked again. Unfortunately, then wasn’t a good time. But fortunately…”

And here, Tonks pauses for a moment, finishing up her work and flaunting her body as she strikes a pose, showing off her perfect post-pregnancy figure remade in now-tight black lingerie for Harry’s viewing pleasure.
 
“Fortunately, my unique set of skills allows me to recreate that figure in every possible way. Down to the last… painstaking… detail.”
 
It’s then that Harry sees the cups of her already black bra growing darker as her nipples begin lactating. Staring at her tits, somewhat fixated at this point, Harry… isn’t sure what to say. He’s speechless, in all honestly.
 
Giggling at his reaction, Tonks steps forward again, moving into his personal space once more and dropping down into a crouch. The gorgeous, buxom MILF of a metamorphmagus pops a squat and splays her knees as she reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock, now fully erect and straining against it’s confines. Cooing over his sizable, throbbing member, the beautiful witch wastes no time at all in shoving his dick down the top of her cleavage, rubbing her tits all over his cock and shaking them around as she slides them up and down his length.
 
Moaning, her lips unbelievably pillowy and pouty at the moment, Tonks looks up at Harry and bats her eyelashes suggestively.
 
“We can stop any time, Harry… but I think if you let me, I can help you relax for tomorrow.”
 
Is it really even a choice? His breathing erratic, Harry slowly nods.
 
“Y-Yeah… I guess I’d like that.”
 
While it did hurt a little that Andromeda thought he might do a runner and had sent her only daughter to effectively whore herself out to him, there was no denying how eager Tonks was for all of this. A small part of Harry worried that he was doing Remus’ memory a disservice here by getting involved with his wife so soon after his death… but no, Harry knew better than that.

Remus would never blame him or Tonks for seeking comfort in one another’s arms. More than that, the older man would have wanted them both to be as happy as possible. Harry… Harry was going to be there for Teddy as his godfather no matter what. But it seemed this might be the only way he could be there for Teddy’s mother as well.
 
In a way, it was so, so wrong… but on the other hand, there was something undeniably erotic and exotic about tasting of a forbidden fruit.
 
“I knew you would~”
 
Leaning forward, Tonks licks at the base of his dick for a moment as it bends into her cleavage, his cock feeling absolutely amazing encapsulated in between her tits. But at the same time, it’s not the most comfortable position and Tonks seems to sense that, eventually pulling back so his member pops back out from between her breasts, very nearly striking her in the chin.
 
Grabbing her bra, she yanks it down off of her fuller, lactating tits and offers up her breasts to him properly, leaning in to wrap her tits around his cock the other way this time around, with the bulbous head of his sizable, pulsating member pushing out from betwixt her massive mammaries now. As she rubs herself up and down his length, Tonks leans forward and takes the head of his shaft in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his crown.
 
Harry groans in response, one of his hands coming down atop her head, sliding through her currently black hair. The mother of his godson is currently giving him a titjob with her lactating breasts, the milk leaking from her nipples dripping down the length of her body and onto the floor beneath them. Harry would be more bothered by that, but he can always just vanish it away with some cleaning charms so there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing to do, really, but relax and enjoy the moment.
 
And there’s certainly a lot about the moment to enjoy. Tonks’ eyes twinkle as she looks up at him while sucking his cockhead and rubbing her tits up and down his length. The tight feel of her fat milkers squishing down on his shaft brings no end of pleasure. The tongue swirling around his bell end is even better. Harry isn’t sure how much longer he can last if he’s being honest. But then, it’s only right to warn Tonks of that, isn’t it?
 
“Tonks… fuck, I think I’m getting close.”

Rather than take that as the warning it’s meant to be, Nymphadora seems to take it as a challenge and a promise at the same time. Her eyes flash and her lips suction down on his cock in a way that feels both distinctly unnatural and insanely pleasurable. She’s almost certainly using her metamorphmagus powers to get that level of suction, leaving Harry’s eyes rolling back in his head as he lets out a hoarse shout and finally begins to cum.
 
Not missing a bit, Tonks swallows down every last drop. She doesn’t even struggle doing it. Her throat convulses and she gulps and gulps and gulps some more, every single ounce of his white hot cum disappearing into her belly just like that. By the time she’s done, it feels like she’s honestly drained something from him. But at the same time… he’s never been more turned on.
 
The foreplay over and done with, Tonks pulls back from his cock and gives both it and him a smile when she sees that he’s still rock hard. Standing, she backs up a step and disappears her lingerie from her body, exposing her naked, womanly form to him in its entirety.
 
What do you think, Harry? Do you like me better like this… or like this?”
 
In the span of moments, she switches between her usual form and her post-pregnancy form. The change is subtle but still quite noticeable, with her bust growing and shrinking between the two, and her hips and ass doing the same. That isn’t to say her normal body isn’t quite the gorgeous figure, however. It’s just a bit slimmer and a bit sleeker then what she’s working with otherwise.
 
Harry swallows dryly as he stares at her shifting figure, trying to decide how he wants her. Does he want Tonks as she normally is… or does he want Mama Tonks, as she was shortly after Teddy’s birth? Fuck but she’s right, he HAD stared at her more than once during that time period. He’d also felt guilty over it, after all she was Remus’ wife. He’d done his level best to limit his looking, but now he was getting a good, long look at her.
 
It’s clear that she expects an answer from him. Regular Tonks, or MILFY post-pregnancy Tonks? There was no way he was getting to sleep without fucking her now, so it was going to be one or the other for sure… right?

Chapter 5: A Surprise Interrupt

As Tonks falls silent, awaiting his response, Harry falls silent too, not really sure which option he likes best. The entire room falls into silence… except it doesn’t. There’s noises coming from Harry’s wardrobe, and though they go quiet a few seconds after Tonks stops talking, it doesn’t keep her and Harry from hearing them. The noises of fingers moving in and out of a slick cunt are unmistakable.

Exchanging a look, he and Tonks both slowly turn to stare at the now-quiet wardrobe, neither of them willing to pretend like they didn’t hear anything. Which is why neither of them are all that surprised when the wardrobe bursts open a second later. Though, Harry at least is VERY surprised by who it is that’s on the other side.

“Nymphadora Tonks! What did I tell you? I told you that I would take care of Harry’s needs here at Hogwarts!”

It’s Andromeda Tonks, Headmistress of Hogwarts, that comes striding out of Harry’s wardrobe hurriedly trying to fix up her robes, hiding how disheveled she looks and covering up the fact that she’d almost definitely been touching herself to him and her daughter mere moments before. Where… where had she even come from? Harry was pretty sure he’d left her behind in the Great Hall, so how the hell had she gotten to his quarters ahead of him?

Had she been hiding in his wardrobe this entire time? Or was there something more to it? Scowling mightily, Tonks clenches her hands into fists, glaring her mother down.

“Clearly you haven’t been doing a very good job, mother! Harry was more than ready to leap right into my open arms, so you must not have been handling his needs very well!”

Harry finally twigs on to something as mother and daughter have their argument. Furrowing his brow, he turns from the Headmistress to Tonks and shakes his head.

“Wait, Tonks… you said that your mother sent you here to incentivize me. You said she was throwing you at me.”

Flushing at being caught out in her little fib, the metamorphmagus squirms as Harry frowns at her, offering him a weak smile in response.

“Well, I might have… misspoken a little bit. But c’mon, Harry. Don’t you-!”

“Silencio! Incarcerous! I think that’s more than enough out of you, Nymphadora. We’ll discuss your actions later.”

In the span of a moment, Andromeda has truck. Silencio puts Tonks on mute, the spell leaving her mouth opening and closing but no further words coming out. Before she can even begin to react to the loss of speech however, the Headmistress’ second spell hits and the conjured rope flows over Tonks’ body, wrapping her up and binding her tightly, sending her straight to her knees as her arms are drawn behind her back and bound to her ankles.

By the time the Incarcerous spell is done enacting Andromeda’s will on her wayward daughter, Tonks is bound quite nicely… and in a way that leaves Harry’s already throbbing cock all the harder. Really, did Tonks’ mother HAVE to present her daughter in such a way that Tonks’ tits were jutting out even as the rope encircled them both at the base in complex rope bondage?

“My incorrigible daughter’s brash actions aside, it would seem I have been remiss in not providing you with further care, Professor Potter.”

Strutting up to him, Andromeda cuts off his view of Tonks and puts herself between the two of them. Then, planting her hand on his chest with her fingers splayed out, she begins walking him back towards the bed. The young wizard can’t possibly resist, or rather he could… but he’s not going to. He spares one last glance towards Tonks, apologizing with a look, before he topples over onto his back and Andromeda climbs aboard.

The Hogwarts Headmistress wastes no time in vanishing her own robes as she takes hold of his cock and licks her lips, rubbing her slit against the base of his member.

“Is this what you want, Professor? Does the Headmistress need to give herself over to slake your insatiable lusts? Well, if she must~”

Alright, Andromeda talking about herself in the third person while calling him Professor was perhaps a little weird… but also incredibly hot, in it’s own way. Of course, just having the gorgeous older witch atop him, resting her cunt against his cock and preparing to impale herself on his member was plenty hot in and of itself.

With a wanton groan, Andromeda drops down onto his shaft, piercing herself through with his spear of meat and filling her quim with his throbbing length. Harry groans as well, and for a moment loses himself in her tightness. He has to admit, part of him HAD been disappointed that she’d left it at just a blowjob when she’d come to make him this offer in the first place.

Now though, it seems he’s getting the full package, with Andromeda’s cunt clenching around his cock as the Hogwarts Headmistress begins to ride him up and down. The gorgeous MILF reaches down and grabs his wrists, directing his hands to her chest as she bounces, and Harry feels over Andromeda’s tits. They’re amazing if he’s being honest, especially given her age. But then, witches were just built different then muggle women, weren’t they?

Andromeda was older than his Aunt Petunia, and yet, one of them was a gorgeous black-haired bombshell and the other was an unrepentant shrew who was already beginning to develop wrinkles. Three guesses on which was which and the first two don’t count. Andromeda Tonks really has no right being as fine a woman as she is for her age… but that’s certainly not stopping her.

He rolls her nipples in between his fingers, groping and caressing her breasts with both hands. Meanwhile, she rides him to kingdom cum, bouncing up and down on his cock hard and fast, groaning and moaning all the while. Harry honestly can’t get enough of it… and no, not because it’s just his first time. That… that has nothing to do with it, even if it’s the truth. He’s just lost his virginity as it so happens, and frankly, he doesn’t mind one bit. Not like he was saving it for anything else.

Andromeda moans and tosses her head back in ecstasy as he tugs on her nipples. Her cunt clenches around him, and Harry is fairly certain she’s just orgasmed on his cock. When she falls forward a moment later, bracing herself on his chest and giving him a lustful smile, the Headmistress confirms it.

“Your big fat cock just made me cum, Harry. Is my tight cunt going to do the same for you?”

In the end, that’s all it takes. Well, that and the fact that said tight cunt is currently wrapped around his dick and massaging up and down his member rhythmically. Her words combined with her insides drive him over the edge and Harry groans as he spills his seed inside of Andromeda, inside of the grandmother of his godson.

She really has no business being as sexy as she is… but he has to admit, she’s fucking gorgeous as she takes his load, groaning and moaning all the while. Then, just like that, it’s over. Andromeda pulls off of him and moves her mouth down to his cock, taking him past her lips for a brief moment to clean him off, but then she finishes up and pulls away, crawling off of the bed and standing there with her hands on her hips as she smirks down at him.

“Get some rest, Professor Potter. Your first class is tomorrow, after all.”

Then, completely naked and not showing a single care in the world about it, Andromeda flicks her wand at Tonks, levitating her bound, silenced daughter up into the air. When she catches Harry staring, she lets out a laugh.

“I hope you didn’t think I’d leave her behind. She’d keep you up all night long if I let her. No, my daughter and I are going to go have a long, in-depth chat about her inappropriate behavior. Sleep well, Professor.”

And then the Headmistress of Hogwarts disappears back into his wardrobe with her daughter floating behind her. Harry waits about five minutes before going over and checking the wardrobe. It doesn’t take him long to figure out the trick… there’s a secret passageway built into the back of the piece of furniture, one that Harry would bet good money leads right to the Headmistress’ quarters.

Rolling his eyes at having the answer to his query, Harry considers briefly going after the two Tonks women. His spent cock even twitches at the thought of chasing them down and having a threesome. But no, in the end common sense wins out. If he did go after them, there was the chance Andromeda would let something like that happen… but then Harry would be utterly exhausted the very next day for his first ever Defense Class.

He was still being in the process of being felt out and judged by the students. He knew that to be a fact. So, in the interest of putting his best put forward, Harry goes to bed… and honestly, in the wake up his first time having sex, it’s the best sleep he’s gotten in ages.

-x-X-x-

“Settle down, everyone. Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

The next day, thanks to Andromeda making sure that her daughter didn’t keep him up all night, Harry is actually feeling absolutely astounding. In fact, he’s actually a little grateful to the Headmistress, even if Nymphadora looks a whole lot like a pouty, irritated cat at breakfast, denied her treat and still upset about it.

Regardless, Harry’s first classes of the day go absolutely swimmingly. Which is to be expected, given his first classes are with First Years, then Second Years, and then Third Years. It’s only by the end of the day that he’s starting to get up to the higher years, until finally for his final class of the day, he finds himself face to face with his peers mixed in with the students that were one year below them back when Harry attended Hogwarts just two years before.

Gryffindor and Slytherin, of course, and Malfoy in particular looked somewhat mulish about seeing Harry upfront behind the Professor’s Desk. Sure, he wasn’t outright sneering, but then Harry had saved his and his mother’s ass leading up to the final confrontation with Voldemort, and their turncoat status and Harry vouching for them was the only reason they’d even escaped a sentence in Azkaban. Somehow, Harry didn’t think he’d have any issues with Draco this year.

And as it so happens, the one who speaks up from Slytherin is someone else entirely.

“Why should we settle down, exactly? Frankly, why should we even call you Professor? After all, some of us actually did this year of schooling already. In fact, I’d go so far as to say some of us sat in this very class know more than you, Potter.”

Daphne Greengrass’ voice quiets the class even more effectively then Harry’s own, and as she speaks the place becomes silent as a grave, everyone looking between her and him as Harry blinks, processing the Slytherin witch’s words and considering how to respond to them. He and Daphne hadn’t had very many interactions during their years at Hogwarts.

Matter of fact, he couldn’t remember even talking to the blonde witch. She was known as ‘the Ice Queen of Slytherin’ from what little rumor he remembered, but Draco and the Slytherin Quidditch Team had always been Harry’s major points of contact with the Hogwarts House. Not counting his run-ins with Snape, of course.

Before Harry can formulate a response, another voice speaks up, as Hermione Granger stands from her chair, snapping at Daphne.

“Don’t be ridiculous! If anyone is qualified to lead this class, it’s Harry! He led every single member of the DA to passing our OWLs in his Fifth Year! And while you lot were learning from Death Eaters last year; Harry was getting real world experience! He was getting hands-on experience that you’ll never hope to be able to match!”

Far from being cowed, Daphne just turns her sharp, icy smile onto Hermione next, slowly rising from her own seat as she turns to face the muggleborn.

“Oh? And I suppose you would know all about that, Granger, considering you were conspicuously absent last year as well. Just what sort of ‘hands-on’ experience was Harry getting? Was it hands-on experience with the Dark Arts… or with you?”

Raking her eyes up and down Hermione’s body to make her intentions obvious, Daphne smirks, clearly believing herself to have scored a point. Based on the low level ‘oooh’ that the rest of the room let out, she had. Hermione bristles and begins to puff up like a particularly angry cat as she opens her mouth to respond, only for Harry to cut in with a single, silken word.

“Enough.”

He surprises even himself with his tone. Honestly, for just a moment he thinks he’s hearing Voldemort speak, that’s what the voice sounds like for the half a second it takes Harry to realize it’s actually his own, and to remember that Voldemort is dead and gone. Still, the tone has the intended effect, causing both Hermione and Daphne to sit down in their chairs and then look surprised that they’d done so, freezing in place along with the rest of the class when Harry sweeps his gaze across them all.

Honestly, he’s not entirely sure where this is coming from, but all of the sudden it’s just so very easy to look at them all as the students they are. Unfortunately, he has to make a decision now on how to proceed. The easiest would be to punish Daphne and Hermione for the disruption and then move on with the lesson. But that would leave Daphne’s words about his capabilities hanging in the air. He wouldn’t have answered her challenge properly.

There was another option he could take. Whether it was a good idea or not, Harry couldn’t say. But perhaps, unlike the other classes, this mixture of Seventh and quasi-‘Eighth’ year students would benefit from a… practical demonstration of sorts. A duel, perhaps, might just be in order. Except, it wouldn’t do for him to duel just Daphne. Maybe… yes, Harry could see it. A lesson in teamwork all in one, as he pitted Daphne and Hermione against him to try and make something more positive of their incredibly negative relationship.

It would be a risk, of course. If he lost… well, Harry just wouldn’t lose. Or he could give them both detention and pass up the opportunity for a practical lesson, instead focusing on what he’d already come up with.

He should have known this final class of the day was going to be the most complicated…

Chapter 6: An Enlightening Duel

Summary:

Messed up and posted this chapter yesterday instead of the proper Chapter 5. If you read this yesterday before I fixed that, go back and read the actual Chapter 5 today.

After a moment, he comes to a decision.
 
“It would seem to me that the issue of my qualifications must be put to rest.”
 
Lifting his wand, Harry flicks it this way and that, silently casting magic that causes the entire class to tense up and reach for their own wands in response. Of course, if they’d really wanted to stop him, they should have reacted much faster than that. At the end of the day, Harry might be casting in their general direction, but he’s not casting anything harmful at THEM.
 
The middle of the room suddenly opens up as all of the desks are pushed to either side, along with his students in their chairs. A crowded lecture hall becomes a little more crowded, but there’s no way for them to put their desks and chairs back where they were, not with the dueling platform that’s rising up in the open space between them.
 
In mere moments it’s ready, and Harry steps up onto the platform at his end. The class looks rather surprised, and there’s quite a lot of interest. In a few faces, he even reads excitement. Some of them are hoping he’ll leave an open challenge for them. But no, not right now. He’s already made up his mind.
 
“Ms. Greengrass. Ms. Granger. Please step up onto the dueling platform.”
 
Both witches jolt at that, neither of them looking entirely interested in dueling. However, when they hear the other’s name and exchange glances, smug smirks spread across both of their faces. They think they’re dueling each other, and while Daphne’s smirk is more wicked than Hermione’s, there’s no doubt that his brunette friend is also excited at the idea of potentially putting the Slytherin witch in her place.
 
As the two climb up onto the platform, Hermione even gives Harry a look and a nod as if she understands what she wants from him.
 
“Don’t worry Harry, I’ll show her what someone who’s learned from you can really do.”
 
Daphne lets out a bark of laughter at that, even as she twirls her wand between her fingers.
 
“You sure you want her as your Champion, Potter?”
 
“No.”
 
Once again, his tone takes them both out at the knees, though they don’t have seats to drop into now and instead can only stand ramrod straight as they and the rest of the class stare at him in befuddled confusion. For his part, Harry stands at one end of the long dueling platform and turns his body as he raises his wand, showing off a perfect dueler’s stance and offering a smaller profile that will allow less in the way of magic to hit him.
 
“This lesson will be one of inter-house cooperation. Put bluntly, it’ll be the two of you against me. Take up your positions and get ready.”

The interest in the classroom rackets up another notch at that, while both Hermione and Daphne look absolutely flummoxed at the idea. When Hermione opens her mouth to object or complain, Harry just lifts one eyebrow… and silences his brunette best friend. Flushing in embarrassment at the realization that she’s arguing with an authority figure, even if that authority figure is him, she reluctantly makes her way to Daphne’s side, seeming much more uncertain now that she’s working with her nemesis rather than against her.
 
Daphne, on the other hand, recovers in about the same amount of time, but without needing to move from where she’s already stood at one end of the platform. Her wand is thus out by the time Hermione reaches her and pointed in his direction. She’s no longer smirking or smiling, but instead frowning, eyes narrowed as she glares daggers down the platform’s length at him.
 
Taking in a deep breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the classroom on him, Harry is reminded of his Second Year. He has no intention of emulating either Lockhart OR Snape, however. Offering the two witches a smile, Harry begins to speak.
 
“Now then, to-!”
 
“Incarcerous!”
 
Mid-word, Daphne jumps the gun. A coil of magical rope flies out of her wand and leaps through the air towards Harry, clearly intending to tie him up. Acting purely on instinct, Harry flicks his own wand right back… and the rope shivers as it comes to a stop in midair. Daphne’s eyes widen as Harry’s eyes narrow, and a moment later the rope is turned back upon her.
 
Little known fact among wizarding kind, but one did not need to always shield against magic. If you knew what you were doing and the spell being used against you, then it was just as good to try and usurp the magic for yourself. Of course, then it became a contest of wills and magical power. Depending on how strong a witch or wizard you were, an opponent may or may not be able to turn your magic back against you.
 
… Harry had always been very powerful when it came to magic. In the wake of Voldemort’s final defeat… well, not to toot his own horn, but he’d started getting even stronger. And that was without getting into the journals and grimoires he’d found waiting for him in Potter Manor. His knowledge of magic had actually grown quite extensively in the last few months, even if he didn’t feel nearly prepared for this position all the same.
 
But even if he wasn’t feeling prepared for teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, that didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared for a magical duel. Even two on one.
 
Seeing the magical rope flying towards them both, Hermione reacts before Daphne can, the muggleborn’s own magical wand coming up as she cries out.
 
“Protego!”
 
A faint, shimmering protection charm comes into being in front of them, causing the magical rope to bounce off. Harry allows it to do so, and watches both witches as the defunct Incarcerous spell unravels into nothingness on the ground at their feet. For a moment afterwards, a tense silence falls over the room as the three duelists stare one another down. Harry smiles.
 
“Begin.”
 
To their credit, both Hermione and Daphne immediately go on the attack.
 
“Stupefy!”
 
“Stupefy!”
 
Except, as the two red stunning spells fly through the air towards them, Harry can’t help but think that’s what they shouldn’t have done. Rather than deflect or protect against the two spells, he ducks under them and then comes up again in one smooth motion, his wand pointed not at the two witches at the other end of the dueling platform, but at their feet.
 
A moment later and the whole of that part of the platform is iced over, turning glassy as it becomes undesirably slippery, like the surface of an ice rink. At the sight of him jabbing his wand towards them, both witches instinctively try and take a step back, even as they attempt to defend against his magic.
 
“Prot-oof!”
 
“Pr-eep!”
 
Like that, fly up in the air ass over end rather comically, flopping down HARD on their backs as Harry flicks and swishes his wand twice more. The silent Expelliarmus followed by an equally silent Accio results in both of their wands ending up in his empty hand, slapping into his palm at the same time as he closes his fingers over them.
 
As Hermione and Daphne groan on their backs on the rapidly melting ice, Harry turns and looks to the rest of the class.
 
“Can anyone tell me what Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass did wrong?”
 
Hands shoot up, and after a moment Harry points at one Draco Malfoy. He wouldn’t have normally, but there’s a healthy respect and fear in Draco’s eyes that makes it clear Harry won’t have to deal with any backtalk from the blond, at least not today. Whether or not Draco will turn out to still be a ponce under his current attitude in the future is still up in the air, but for now anyways…
 
“They didn’t work together. If they had, only one of them would have attacked, while the other defended.”
 
Giving his former school bully an approving nod and boy did that feel weird, Harry smiles simply.
 
“That’s exactly right.”
 
“But you also cast silent magic! That’s incredibly advanced stuff, isn’t it?!”
 
Lavender Brown’s voice from the crowd doesn’t come accompanied by a hand raise, but Harry decides to let it slide. He doesn’t want to say that the blonde has always been a little slow… but, well… no, she’s smart enough. Just in things she actually cares about, which hasn’t always involved schooling.
 
Harry inclines his head towards Lavender as well.
 
“Indeed it is. So advanced in fact, that it hasn’t been part of Hogwarts curriculum for some time now. Needless to say, that will be changing. While not all of you may have the aptitude for silent casting, those of you that do will be ferreted out and provided with advanced lessons if you desire them. It will be a lot of extra work, but if you’re willing to put in the time and effort, so am I.”
 
And with that, he swishes his wand, and the dueling platform disappears back into the floor, the classroom returning back to the way it was before. Daphne and Hermione are left in the middle aisle, still recovering as Harry returns to the front of the class. However, Daphne is quick to get to her feet once there’s no longer any ice under her, and she most definitely notices the absence of her wand from her hand.
 
“You still have our wands… Professor Potter.”
 
It’s a start, but Harry just smiles as he nods his head in acknowledgement of her words.
 
“Indeed I do. Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Granger… see me after dinner tonight for detention. You’ll earn your wands back there.”
 
Both Daphne and Hermione jolt at that, though Hermione looks decidedly more betrayed than Daphne. If anything, Harry would say that Daphne looks… calculating for all of a moment, before she’s hiding it behind a blank face and simply giving him a nod to show she’s heard. Hermione, meanwhile, looks embarrassed as all hell as she sits back down in her chair and keeps her eyes averted to the desk for the rest of the class.
 
It’s not like Harry wanted to give her detention… but she needed to understand that he was the Professor first now, and her friend second. He hoped she could forgive him…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Hours later, after dinner, both Daphne and Hermione show up at his door. Harry lets them into the classroom in silence, admittedly still thinking about their punishment and how they would be spending this detention. If he couldn’t come up with something soon, he’d probably just have them both work on homework or something in silence until he’d decided enough time had passed and he could give them back their wands.
 
Except, Daphne derails any plans he might have had from moment one when she saunters up to him and adopts the most lustful leer that Harry has ever seen, giving him a wicked grin as she leans forward to show off her cleavage.
 
“So then, Professor. What are you going to have us doing for tonight’s detention, hm? Will we be polishing any wands, perhaps?”
 
As Harry blinks owlishly at the sudden personality switch from the mulish girl who’d disrupted his class earlier, Hermione gasps, clearly taking offense to Daphne’s insinuation… and very much understanding what Daphne was getting at.
 
“W-What the fuck, Greengrass?! Don’t be ridiculous, Harry isn’t LIKE that!”
 
Turning her gaze to Hermione, Daphne lets out a laugh.
 
“Professor Potter is a growing young man our age, Granger. He and every other boy of that age are EXACTLY like that, don’t be ridiculous. And besides, you picked up what I was putting down quite fast… perhaps because you’re used to thinking of your precious ‘Harry’ in that sort of light?”
 
Daphne’s teasing voice leaves Hermione red-faced and sputtering. Meanwhile, Harry is forced to admit that both of them are right. Hermione was right in that Harry definitely wasn’t like that, and he had had no intentions of demanding sexual favors from either Daphne or Hermione for tonight’s detention. That was… really disgusting, at first glance.
 
But also, Daphne was right in that he was a ‘growing young man’, and as Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks had proven, he was very much susceptible to beautiful witches’ womanly wiles. While it would definitely be gross for Harry to demand sexual favors from his students for their detention activities… it was a whole other thing entirely for Daphne to be propositioning him like this. If she wanted it then…
 
Except no, he couldn’t do it, right? Not just because it was morally wrong, which it was. But because something was off about all of this. Daphne… Daphne was acting way too brazen here. Turning away from Hermione, having clearly won that verbal joust, Daphne gives him another lecherous grin and tugs a little bit at her top, showing off more of her pale skin and nearly popping out one of her breasts then and there thanks to how lowcut the top she’d changed into was.
 
“What do you say, Professor? A quick suck, a quick fuck, and you make my detention go away?”
 
It was tempting in the extreme. DAPHNE was tempting in the extreme. Meanwhile, Hermione was cutely flustered in the extreme as well, and seemed to be unable to speak up against it again, as she fidgets and squirms and averts her gaze whenever he tries to meet her eyes.
 
He couldn’t possibly go along with this, could he? Something was undeniably fishy about this. What were Daphne’s true motivations for coming on this strongly after her earlier disrespect in class?
 
Most importantly of all… did he care?

Chapter 7: A Decision Made

“No.”
 
His succinct response causes both Daphne and Hermione to start. It’s clearly not what either of them was expecting, and for a moment Harry feels a pang of annoyance at the fact that Hermione had thought so low of him. Still, after a beat of being surprised, his long-time brunette friend gains a look of satisfied vindication across her face. Daphne’s response is a lot more negative, with the Slytherin Ice Queen narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her bust as she pouts and glares in equal measure.
 
“No? What do you mean ‘no’, Potter?”
 
Staring right back at her, his emerald eyes flashing, Harry doesn’t take that lying down.
 
“It’s Professor Potter to you, Ms. Greengrass.”
 
Daphne flushes and averts her gaze. Shaking his head, Harry lets out a sigh.
 
“You must think I’m an idiot. Which, all things considered, I’m not surprised you got that impression. I did not always make the most… thought-out decisions during our years at Hogwarts. In fact, from afar, some of my best decisions must have looked utterly insane from your distant perspective.”
 
Daphne frowns at that, and so does Hermione. His friend even looks a little outraged on his behalf, and perhaps irritated with both him and Daphne for thinking so little of him. But Harry wasn’t incapable of self-reflection, and not all of his decisions had been the best ones. Hindsight, as they said, was usually twenty-twenty. There were things that, if he could go back and redo them, Harry would happily do so in a heartbeat.
 
“Perhaps you thought that because I’m a man, you would have an easier time getting into my pants. If this is a gender thing, I don’t blame you. I’ve certainly noticed how my peers drool all over our female counterparts, and you get more than your fair share of admirers.”
 
Daphne smirks a little at that, even tossing her hair back over her shoulder in acknowledgment of the compliment. Hermione scowls and crosses her arms over her chest now in a huff. Perhaps she thought he should be complimenting her as well at the same time? Or maybe she just didn’t want to see him complimenting Daphne whatsoever.
 
Harry wasn’t blind to the Slytherin witch’s good looks, however. He was denying her in spite of her gorgeousness, not because she was ugly.
 
“Unfortunately for you, Ms. Greengrass, I am not an idiot led so easily by my dick. I’m not so foolish as to fail to notice the one-eighty you’ve gone through since class earlier today. You’ve done a one-eighty, to borrow a muggle phrase. Do you have a good reason for going from condescending and haughty to an eager slut ready to jump my bones at the earliest convenience?”
 
Both Daphne and Hermione blush at that. With her arms still crossed over her chest, Daphne sniffs indelicately. Then, she leans forward and her whole expression turns lecherous as she gives Harry a view down her top, her crossed arms now slipping UNDER her bust in order to push it up further and give her even more cleavage than she already has.
 
“Perhaps the duel changed my view of you, Professor Potter. After all, you handed Granger and I our asses most firmly. Mayhap my maiden heart has swooned because you have shown yourself to be a valiant manly man in battle. Perhaps I wish to only submit to a wizard who proves himself my better, and all of these years at Hogwarts I have never encountered such a man until now.”
 
As she speaks, her tone is husky and beside her Hermione looks downright mortified and somewhat scandalized as well. The brunette bookworm is blushing like crazy by the time Daphne is finished, and if Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say that Hermione was taken in by Daphne’s explanation. Possibly because it fit with her, or something like that? But no, that was ridiculous.
 
As for Harry himself… he looks Daphne right in the eye and lets out a particularly derisive snort.
 
“Horse shit.”
 
Hermione gasps at that, but far from looking angrier or more put-out, Daphne just snorts right back, seemingly amused as she sits back in her chair again, going from a sexy goddess eager to put out back to a disobedient young witch, bored with being here.
 
“The real reason if you please, Ms. Greengrass.”
 
For a long moment, Harry expects her to clam up and refuse to answer. He wouldn’t be all that surprised, and frankly, he wouldn’t be all that upset either. If she didn’t want to tell him the real reason, let her keep her secrets. He’d let the detention continue as it was meant to and leave it to rest. But Harry couldn’t deny that he was a bit curious. What would cause a girl like Daphne Greengrass to all but throw herself at him? The Ice Queen of Slytherin, suddenly pretending to have thawed to try and get him to fuck her?
 
It seemed unlikely that she was hoping to get him fired by alleging that he’d forced himself on her or anything like that. Harry couldn’t imagine why Daphne would have it out for him THAT much. Unless the duel earlier had the exact opposite result of what she’d already insinuated, and she now did hate him so much she wanted to hurt him in that way.
 
The problem with that was, Hermione was here to act as witness, and there were all sorts of ways of discerning the truth through magic. The least of which would be putting memories of the encounter into a pensieve to show that Daphne was the one who propositioned him in the first place. Of course, pensieve memories COULD be faked, Harry had personal experience with that, but there was also truth serum and a dozen other ways of finding out if someone was lying or not.
 
At the end of the day, just why was Daphne Greengrass suddenly so eager to get into his pants? As silence drags on, Harry sighs and opens his mouth to speak, consciously setting the matter aside as he prepares to tell the two witches what they’ll be doing for detention. However, before he can do so, Daphne finally pipes up.
 
“It’s my father.”
 
Furrowing his brow, Harry cocks his head to the side at her. Next to Daphne, Hermione does the same, blinking owlishly.
 
“Your father?”
 
Looking a bit more vulnerable, but also like she wants to appear as anything but (which in turn helps to sell that this is all more real than her previous acts for Harry) Daphne swallows and turns her head away.
 
“House Greengrass has never had a Lady Greengrass that actually stood at the head of the family. It’s always been a Lord Greengrass. My father has decided he’s not about to let that change. Over the summer, he informed me that I will not be inheriting his position at any point in my life.”
 
Hermione gasps, covering her open mouth with one hand as she stares at Daphne, appalled.
 
“B-But… that’s so sexist!”
 
Snorting derisively, the blonde witch gives her brunette counterpart an unimpressed look.
 
“There’s a reason that it’s called the ‘Wizarding World’, Granger. It’s run by wizards. Oh sure, there have been female Ministers, female Headmasters, and even female Wizengamot members, but the vast majority of all of those positions have always, and likely will always be held by men. Did you think just because I was a Pureblood, that I didn’t face discrimination in other ways? Did you think just because there was so much focus on blood purity, that there wasn’t also plenty of misogyny to go along with it?”
 
Hermione looks taken aback, and ultimately abashed. Daphne has very clearly taken her to task, though Harry doesn’t really think that the Pureblood witch has the right to do so. It’s not like she wasn’t still a spoiled brat. Regardless, he stays quiet, not wanting Daphne to shut down now that she’s finally willing to actually talk about these things. This ultimately pays off as she turns back to regard him coolly.
 
“My father has decided that he’s young enough to wait for a grandson born of me or my sister. He has intentions of selling me off to some rich cousin on the mainland. Once we’re married, I will be pumped full of fertility potions and he’ll take some virility potions, and then we’ll get to work fucking until I pop out an heir for him. The second son I give birth to will be my father’s heir, the next Lord Greengrass.”
 
She sounds enraged by her own words; her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. To be fair, Harry likes to think he’d be pretty pissed off if he was in her shoes. He’s not of course and can’t truly empathize… but he can certainly sympathize.
 
“Of course, if I am in any way soiled before then, it will be much, much more difficult for my father to sell me off. If I were to be defiled… say by my Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, then it would certainly throw a wrench in my father’s plans. No one wants used goods, after all. I may not be my father’s heir, but at least I will be free.”
 
By the time she’s done speaking, there’s a certain savage glee in Daphne’s voice that can’t be denied. She seems utterly pleased with herself and what she came up with. Hermione, meanwhile, looks troubled, almost like she wants to say something, but also clearly still mulling over the dressing down Daphne gave her previously. However, it seems the Pureblood witch isn’t entirely done.
 
“I worked all my life to try and prove worthy of him despite my gender. I’ve embraced the role of Slytherin’s Ice Queen and foregone any true friendships in favor of working on bettering myself. Only Granger here has come even close to my efforts. I’ve beaten out the entirety of our year of Ravenclaws, year after year, term after term. I’ve showed nothing but results. And yet, he doesn’t care. He’ll never care. I understand that now. I understand that I will never be good enough for that bastard. So now, I’m going to be bad.”
 
Daphne’s grin is conniving and her eyes flash as she says that last bit. Honestly, it’s pretty fucking hot. It’s also a lot more truthful than everything before now. This is the real Daphne Greengrass, laid bare for all to see. Desperate and eager to… not please, or whatever.
 
Harry sits back in his chair and contemplates the Pureblood witch sat across from him. At least now he has all the facts, or so it would appear. Daphne Greengrass was trapped between a rock and a hard place. She was hoping he’d think with his dick and ruin her so that her daddy couldn’t sell her to some wizard twice or thrice her age across the sea.
 
He wasn’t sure how well that would have worked. To be fair, he was still incredibly new to Pureblood politics. He was technically Lord Potter and Lord Black, but Harry had barely been able to dip his toes into what that really meant for him so far. Did people like Daphne’s father and the wizards he was trying to sell her to really care that much about her coming to them as a virgin? Would one quick fuck really save Daphne from such a life?
 
Because yes, Harry was already thinking about helping her. Or rather ‘helping’ her. Inwardly, he chuckles to himself. Daphne Greengrass was a beautiful witch. Now that he knew WHY she wanted to jump his bones (and he was fairly certain that she was telling the truth this time, his bullshit-o-meter wasn’t going off so strongly anymore) he could admit that he wouldn’t mind fucking her.
 
But at the same time, did he really want to involve himself in House Greengrass’ bullshit? He was here at Hogwarts to be the DADA Professor. He was NOT here to fuck and deflower young witches, even if two women in particular had already made their interest known. Andromeda Tonks… was probably more than enough for him, right? Even if Nymphadora also wanted a taste of him, the Hogwarts Headmistress had all but staked her claim.
 
Harry glances around, half-expecting Andromeda to come leaping out of a broom closet or something now to keep Daphne and him from fucking. But no, the Headmistress is nowhere to be seen. In the end, it’s just him, Daphne… and Hermione.
 
A glance at the brunette shows that she’s currently incredibly conflicted and showing every bit of that all over her face. She’s flushed red, and her eyes are darting back and forth between him and Daphne, as if she’s waiting for him, the authority figure in this situation, to make a decision.
 
Daphne has also fallen silent, and the faint bit of hope in her eyes makes it clear that she realizes he’s actually considering her predicament. Harry can make or break her in this moment, and they both know that.
 
So… the only question left is… what is he going to do? Is he going to take Daphne up on her offer and get stuck with the Greengrass family drama? And what about Hermione? Invite her to join them? Tell her to leave them so it’s just him and Daphne?
 
Nothing had really changed, except for Harry’s knowledge. He now knew a lot more about Daphne’s reasonings, and instead of being the patsy, he would be in on sticking it to her father. So… was he going to get involved here, or not?

Chapter 8: Daphne Greengrass

“So what do you say Professor? Care to join me on the wild side?”
 
Staring at Daphne Greengrass as she gives him a sultry, seductive grin, Harry really doesn’t have to think about it much longer. In the end, he answers her grin with a light smirk and inclines his head as he gives his response.
 
“Sure. Why not?”
 
“Eep!”
 
The sudden exclamation from Hermione’s corner, while not unexpected, still gets both him and Daphne to look over at her. Harry’s childhood friend is blushing up a storm right now, and she fidgets in her chair under their attention, now that they’ve agreed to… well, an intimate course of action. Harry has to admit, he’s always admired Hermione. The muggleborn witch is a go-getter and always has been. While she’d started out as a bit of an overbearing know-it-all in their First Year, she’d eventually grown as a person… and as a woman too.
 
Hermione wasn’t just cute; she was drop dead gorgeous these days. That was something Harry had first begin to notice when he’d seen her at the Yule Ball back during their Fourth Year. It had only been because of how important taking down Voldemort was that he hadn’t tried to make a move back when Ron had stormed off and left them all alone out in the wilderness for some time.
 
Offering his childhood friend a smile as well, Harry lifts an eyebrow.
 
“You’re welcome to join us, Mione.”
 
Her blush intensifies, whether because of the invitation or because of his shortening of her name. Either way, Harry is convinced he has her right where he wants her… which is why he’s no small amount of surprised when Hermione suddenly jerks back, jolting out of her chair and shaking her head.
 
“N-No! I m-mean… I’m g-good! I just… um, I s-should probably be going…”
 
She fidgets, and Harry belatedly realizes that as much as she might want to leave, she can’t go without his permission… after all, she and Daphne are still here for detention, and he even still has both of their wands held hostage to ensure their compliance. Merlin, he felt a bit like a heel in the moment, like he was lording his power over Hermione to extort sexual favors from her.
 
But he would never do that, and obviously Hermione didn’t believe he would do it either. While Daphne watches on like a hawk, Harry produces Hermione’s wand from his robes and gives his friend a simple nod as he holds it out to her.
 
“Very well, Ms. Granger. Please, take your leave.”
 
He tries not to come across as cross or cold, attempting to inject as much warmth into his words as possible. Judging by the tentative, hesitant smile Hermione gives him, it works at least a little. Regardless, she takes her wand back and scurries out of the classroom, leaving Harry hating to see her leave… but truth be told, loving watching her go. She really does have a cute ass these days.
 
Still, he’s a little bit surprised. He wasn’t… he wasn’t expecting her to say no, he realizes. It hadn’t crossed his mind that she would. But it made sense, in a way. He’d been asking a lot of her, hadn’t he? Asking her to engage in a threesome at the drop of the hat, after not even telling her he was going to be DADA Professor, and on top of that giving her and Daphne a joint detention.
 
“Don’t mind her.”
 
Before Harry can spend too much more time beating himself up over his handling of Hermione, Daphne Greengrass more than takes his mind off of such things by happily dropping into his lap. With a sudden lapful of gorgeous witch, Harry finds his hands immediately going to her hips, even as Slytherin’s Ice Queen grinds herself into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck.
 
“After all, I’m more than woman enough for you, Professor. And perhaps, if this works out well enough for us, we can make it a regular thing~”
 
Daphne is all sex right now, seductive and sultry and a dozen other sexy S-words. And yet, as Harry looks at her… well, maybe it’s all thanks to Andromeda. Maybe if it wasn’t for the Headmistress taking him under her wing, Harry would be ill-prepared for this and would be putty in Daphne Greengrass’ hands. The thing is… he knows too much now. Not only has he been with an older, more experienced witch… he knows Daphne is a virgin. No matter how sexy or sultry she acts, he knows the truth…that it is all just an act, and that in reality, she’s putting on a front in order to get what she wants.
 
Even after their heart to heart, Daphne is trying to take the lead, trying to top him in some effort to have control over this situation… and frankly, Harry isn’t willing to give it to her. After all, he’s the one who’s sticking his neck out for the Greengrass witch. He’s the one taking on all the risk FOR her. With a low growl, Harry reaches up and fists his hand through Daphne’s hair, grabbing hold of her head by her locks and yanking it back hard enough to draw a hiss from her lips as he looks her in the eye.
 
“Perhaps if you impress me enough, it will be a regular thing Ms. Greengrass. I must admit though… you’re off to a pitiful start. Off my lap and on your knees, now.”
 
His forceful words have an effect on Daphne, even as she tries to hide it. Pushing her off of him, he watches as she stares at him for a moment before slowly sinking down to her knees.
 
“Of course, Professor… mm, have I been naughty? Do you need to punish me, sir?”
 
She reaches for his robes without prompting, but Harry doesn’t stop her. He just continues to stare down at her imperiously, taking some pleasure in how she falters for half a second before redoubling her efforts to be the sexy, seductive minx. Her hands slip into his robes, unbutton and unzip his trousers, and pull out his cock in a few moments. As she extricates his half-hard prick from its confines, she licks her lips and looks between it and him, attempting a coy smile.
 
“Do you want me to put it in my mouth, Professor? Want me to shut myself up on your cock?”
 
“Yes.”
 
His succinct and simple answer almost causes Daphne to scowl for a moment, before she recovers. Smiling once more, the Ice Queen leans forward and takes him in her mouth. She’s bad at it, Harry notes almost immediately, and with a hiss, he tightens his grip on her hair and forces her to focus on his face again.
 
“No teeth, brat.”
 
Something stormy appears in her gaze, but she nods ever so slightly and goes back to sucking his cock, this time avoiding her teeth grazing his sensitive member. She tries to be slow and sensual about it, tries to handle him like she’s in charge, but Harry isn’t having it. Frankly, she’s not GOOD enough at fellatio to manage to suck him off on her own.
 
“Faster.”
 
He helps her with that, his grip on her hair allowing him to drive her further down his shaft. He’s gratified to hear her choke on his dick, to be honest. He might feel sorry for Daphne and her circumstances, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still annoyed with her, both for her disruption of his class earlier that day, and for trying to turn him into her patsy.
 
“Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”
 
He doesn’t spend too long fucking her face on his cock, however. He’s not a sadist, and even Daphne Greengrass’ eyes watering as her slobber and saliva begin to coat her chin is enough to tug at his heart strings. Relaxing his grip on her hair, he lets the Slytherin witch pull back, watching with blank eyes as she coughs and hacks for a moment before glaring at him.
 
“You’re a brute, Professor. I m-must confess, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
 
“Stand up and lean over the desk, Ms. Greengrass.”
 
His response clearly annoys her, but nevertheless, Daphne rises to her feet, turns around, and bends over his desk for him. Her own ass is pretty close in quality to Hermione, though admittedly Harry doesn’t have all that much experience. He’d have to have them both next to each other and naked to make a proper… comparison.
 
As it is, the young Hogwarts Professor rises from his chair then, moving into position behind Daphne. One hand goes to the nape of her neck and she stiffens as he grabs her there, pushing her forward further. His other hand reaches down and hikes up her robes until they’re gathered around her hips and revealing a delectable bubble butt covered only by her jeans.
 
Seeing no belt, Harry doesn’t bother reaching around to the front to try and deal with the button and zipper. He just grabs the back of her jeans, hooking his fingers into the waistband, and pulls hard, eliciting a gasp from Daphne as the button pops off and her jeans come down to her knees. She’s quivering now, trembling even, something Harry can only see because he can now see expanses of her pale flesh, her thighs jiggling ever so slightly with her shivering.
 
He wastes no time in yanking down her panties next, though he also doesn’t fail to notice the way the crotch of her underwear sticks to her cunt. Lifting an eyebrow, Harry places his hand against Daphne’s pussy lips and palms her mound.
 
“You’re wet.”
 
“S-Shut up Potter…”
 
Harry chuckles at that… and then pulls back his hand and brings it back down, spanking Daphne right on the pussy. The wet, squelching along with the clap noise are both drowned out by Daphne’s girlie squeal, the Ice Queen melted without Harry even realizing it.
 
“That’s Professor Potter to you, Ms. Greengrass. Apologize. Bad girls don’t get my dick… only good girls do…”
 
And they both know how bad Daphne wants his dick. But now Harry begins to suspect it’s not only because she wants him to deflower and defile her, sullying her for her would be ancient foreign suitors… but because she’s horny and wants him to fuck her. She wants him to use her.
 
“… S-Sorry, Professor. P-Please forgive me… I’m a good girl. I want to be a g-good girl.”
 
Her teeth are clenched, making it appear as if she doesn’t want to be doing this or saying these things, but Harry detects a note of yearning in her tone all the same. It’s the same yearning he heard in Nymphadora’s eyes, before her mother interrupted them…
 
Deciding that was good enough, mostly because he’s rock hard and wants to have a fucking go, Harry grabs Daphne by the hips, lines up his cock with her virgin quim… and thrusts forward. She’s more than wet enough for him, though he definitely feels it as he tears through her hymen on his first pass. Daphne feels it too, judging by the sharp cry that leaves the beautiful witch’s lips, her head hanging down for a moment.
 
But Harry still isn’t done punishing her. He doesn’t feel like letting her rest and recover. Instead, he begins to fuck her right there atop his desk, pounding into Daphne as she bends over his desk and takes her punishment like the good little harlot she is. Cock throbbing and pulsating inside of her, Harry goes for broke, plowing away like there’s no tomorrow.
 
As he’d begun suspect, Slytherin’s prim and proper Ice Queen likes it rough. She’s enjoying this, enjoying HIM, and as he fucks her from behind, Daphne simply can’t contain her voice. She cums for him far faster than Harry would have thought possible, her cries like a trill in his ears as she shivers and shakes beneath him.
 
Harry keeps going, of course, the act of pistoning in and out of the witch enjoyable both for the sensation, but also for how it seems to drive her utterly mad. She’s going wild for his cock, and Harry is getting a massive ego boost from it, loving how she tightens up around his thrusting shaft again and again as he rams her against the sturdy desk.
 
Of course, eventually he can’t hold back any longer… he’s going to cum… but not inside Daphne. As much as the idea of knocking up the haughty, snooty Pureblood witch might first appeal to him, Harry still has some level of self control and breeding one of his students barely a week into his tenure at Hogwarts sounds like a mistake. Not to mention, he’s causing enough trouble with House Greengrass as it is.
 
So instead of risking all of that, Harry settles for grabbing Daphne by the hair one last time, yanking her head back even as he pulls out of her at the last second. Dragging her away from his desk, spinning her around and forcing her to her knees, Harry doesn’t give Daphne much time to properly assess what’s happening. One hand in her hair, the other stroking his throbbing, pulsating cock, Harry smiles, seeing the light of understanding entering the Pureblood Witch’s eyes half a moment before he begins to cum.
 
She flinches back as he covers her face in his seed, but with his grip on her hair, Daphne isn’t going anywhere. He cums all over her face and even all over her still-hidden tits. Part of Harry regrets not taking an opportunity to look at them, but he’d certainly enjoyed her pale white ass well enough… and it’s fun, ruining her robes as he covers her top half with his cum.
 
Eventually though, he’s finished and as he lets go of Daphne’s hair, she rocks back, cum-covered face scrunched up in some indecipherable emotion. Slowly, she brings herself back under control… and in spite of being covered in his jizz, she slowly stands up, almost looking like she’s holding her head high.
 
“W-Will that be all, P-Professor?”
 
She holds out her hand expectantly, clearly looking to be given her wand so she can leave. Harry hesitates for a moment, considering whether he wants it to truly ‘be all’ or not. He could… give Daphne a standing weekly detention. Might look suspicious to the rest of the school though, if he did that. He could also just let her go as she is now and leave it at this.
 
Daphne had gotten what she wanted… and so had he.

Chapter 9: Interlude

Harry considers things for a moment, before shaking his head.
 
“No, I don’t think so.”
 
Daphne’s eyes widen at that, before narrowing in irritation and outrage. He softens those emotions by producing her wand a moment later and slapping it into her palm, but that just leaves the Greengrass witch more confused than anything. Smirking slightly, Harry cocks his head to the side.
 
“I would say… you haven’t learned your lesson, Ms. Greengrass. Consider yourself under a standing detention with me. Every week, you will come here for a… lesson. We’ll revisit this at the end of the semester and see exactly how much you’ve ‘learned’. Am I understood?”
 
Part of him feels guilty for using and abusing his position of authority in such a way. It’s probably morally and ethically wrong for him to be using his professional position of power over Daphne to force this. But then, the girl had admitted that she was planning on using him right back. She’d gotten what she wanted out of him without much fight on his end. Now it was Harry’s turn to get what he wanted from her.
 
After hearing him out, Daphne’s face shifts from confusion to annoyance, to a blank expression as she considers his words. Finally, the gorgeous Slytherin Ice Princess lets out a haughty huff.
 
“Very well. It’s not like I have much choice, is it?”
 
Harry cocks an eyebrow at that, shrugging his shoulders.
 
“You always have a choice, Daphne. If you want to take this to the Headmistress, we could.”
 
He wasn’t sure how Andromeda would react if they did that. He wasn’t sure why he was even suggesting it. Perhaps because he was already feeling some small amount of guilt over his decision. Either way, Daphne, while taken aback by the idea at first, snorts derisively after giving it a moment of thought.
 
“Nah, I’m good. See you next week, Professor.”
 
Harry hums and inclines his head as she turns on her heel and walks out of the room. He almost calls out to her given her current… state, but in the end, just as she’s getting close to the doorway, she flicks her wand back at herself and clearly casts some sort of cleaning spell, removing the mess he’d made of her face and robes when he’d cum.
 
A brash and icy girl, to say the least… but she’d been fun if nothing else. Letting out a low sigh, Harry turns his gaze towards the future. The year had barely started, after all. He still had a long way to go.
 
-x-X-x-
 
By the time she gets back to her rooms, she’s already regretting her decision. No, that’s not quite right. From the moment she stepped out of the classroom and realized she’d left Harry behind in that… in that BITCH’s clutches, she’d regretted it. It was just… it wasn’t fair! Everything had happened way too fast for Hermione. She wasn’t prepared, she wasn’t READY.
 
For a witch who had, above all else, always prided herself on her preparedness when it came to certain situations, she had understandably balked at Harry’s offer. Not because it wasn’t what she wanted… far from it. No, she’d balked because Greengrass was there! It still hurt a little, that he would even consider taking Daphne up on her offer, let alone inviting Hermione to join the two of them, like his and her first time together didn’t mean anything, like it could be trivialized like that.
 
Harry had… he’d changed, since Voldemort’s defeat. Hermione could recognize that, had recognized that even straight after the battle that had seen the Dark Lord put in the dirt for the second time. But all the same, she hadn’t realized how much he’d changed. And yet… it also didn’t really matter to her at all. He was still her Harry. He was still the boy… no, he was still the MAN she loved.
 
Luckily, she was Head Girl this year. Private quarters, all to herself. It allows Hermione to throw herself onto her bed in her private bedroom and scream into the pillow without having to worry about pulling curtains around her or casting noise-cancelling spells first. And scream she does, in anger and frustration and bewilderment at her current circumstances.
 
Hermione Granger wanted Harry Potter. For anyone who had ever really known her, that shouldn’t have been that hard to believe. He’d saved her life all the way back when they were eleven! He’d done it again when they were twelve, or at least after a fashion! They’d ridden on a gryphon together in their Third Year to save his godfather! She’d been the only one to stay at his side when everyone else thought him a liar and a cheat in his Fourth Year! And so on and so forth.
 
Year after year, Hermione had been there for Harry and Harry had been there for Hermione. Oh, what she wouldn’t have given to be able to go to the Yule Ball with Harry back during their Fourth Year. But, knowing even then what sort of a jealous git Ron Weasley could be, Hermione had jumped at the offer from Viktor Krum instead… even if it’d ended up causing just as much strife and drama between them.
 
… In fact, out of everyone in her life, Hermione was pretty sure that the only two people who didn’t know how deep her feelings for Harry ran were the ones who were supposed to be her two closest friends. Ron had never seemed to understand that Hermione liked Harry… and perhaps that was because Harry hadn’t seemed to get it either.
 
The two boys had always danced around the subject, with Ron nosing more and more around Hermione like he had a chance of ever being more than friends with her, and Harry backing off further and further like he didn’t want anything more from her than her friendship.
 
Except, that wasn’t exactly true, now was it? Tonight proved that Harry WAS interested in her. Even if he hadn’t deigned to tell her about his hiring as the DADA Professor, even if they hadn’t gotten a chance to seriously talk since that particular revelation, he’d still… he’d still been interested in her enough to offer to let her join while he… while he fornicated with Daphne Greengrass.
 
Moaning forlornly, Hermione flips over onto her back and lets her hands wander as she starts to imagine it. She should have been there; she should have stayed. But she likes to imagine without her presence, this new No-Nonsense Harry doesn’t take any of Daphne’s bullshit. She likes to imagine he bends her over his desk and just fucks her, straight up.
 
Or rather… Hermione likes to imagine herself in Daphne’s place, being treated like the teacher’s pet she’s always been by her handsome, sexy DADA Professor. A low moan leaves the brunette bookworm’s lips as her fingers find her erogenous zones. One hand to her breasts, the other to her slit. She begins to finger herself, even as Harry’s name leaves her lips, even as she softly cries out to him, for him.
 
He never comes of course. She’d passed up on the opportunity to have him tonight. But… but Hermione wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. She had plans to make, ideas to formulate, goals to achieve. She wasn’t going to let tonight be anything more than the temporary setback that it was, no sir. Moaning, Hermione fingerfucks herself to completion while calling Harry’s name, her eyes squeezed shut and her back arching as her body lifts off the bed.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Nymphadora Tonks was… irritated. Gritting her teeth, the metamorphmagus stomps through the Hogwarts dungeons, almost daring one of those little shits from Slytherin to be out past curfew or sneaking back to their dorm so she can really put the hurt on them. Alas, so far, she’s not encountered a single one.
 
It was undeniably frustrating, having one’s mother as one’s boss. Tonks hadn’t been entirely sure what her plans were when she came to Hogwarts this year. It had… seemed like a good idea at the time, pushed upon her by the combined efforts of both Andromeda and Amelia Bones. Tonks didn’t dislike the Director of the DMLE by any means. Madam Bones had actually been something of an idol for Tonks, especially back when she was just an Auror Trainee. If a witch like her could rise so high, then Tonks wanted to aspire to be just as great, one day.
 
Unfortunately, in the aftermath of the war, her dear mother had gotten her hands on the position of Hogwarts Headmaster, which came with just as much influence and power as Dumbledore had always made it seem like it had. Or at least, it came with enough influence and power for Andromeda to get her daughter right where she wanted her, here at Hogwarts, ostensibly in a safe environment.
 
Tonks… hadn’t minded that she was being mother hen’d so much, initially. Remus’ loss had been a lot, and it had reminded Tonks of her own mortality, of what was most important. That being Teddy. Teddy was the light of her life, her reason for existing, and Tonks would do anything necessary to keep him safe.
 
But he was also too young to be at Hogwarts full time, and so Tonks could only really see him on the weekends when she could go visit him, or on the rare occasions when her father would bring him to Hogwarts for a short visit. That left the Auror with a lot of free time on her hands, really. Patrolling Hogwarts wasn’t that tough of a job, after all, not with the war over and Harry Potter himself taking up residence in the castle once more.
 
But then, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Her mother wanted her safe… but also seemed intent on cockblocking her! Tonks had been so sure that she had an amazing plan, after realizing just what Andromeda had done to get Harry onboard, so to speak. But then, right when she’d been on the cusp of getting Harry into bed, her mother had quite literally shown up via secret passage to foil her plans!
 
Tonks would always love Remus… but she’d had a bit of a thing for Harry for a while now. And perhaps that was wrong, given the age difference… but despite her motherhood, Tonks wasn’t THAT old yet. And besides, they were both Hogwarts faculty now! The age difference between them certainly wasn’t as great as say, the age difference between Harry and her mum!
 
Tonks refused to be stymied so easily. She wasn’t going to let Andromeda keep her from what she wanted, not anymore. She’d come to this school to be ‘safe’, just like her mother and the Director wanted, to make them both happy. Well now, Tonks was going to focus on making herself happy as well.
 
-x-X-x-
 
She should have known Potter would reach for more than he was entitled to. With a scowl etched on her face, Daphne puts up a hand, stopping Tracy dead in her tracks as she sweeps into their shared dorm room. The half-blood witch and her best friend’s mouth clicks shut as she pales at seeing Daphne’s current mood. As well she should, Daphne is pissed.
 
Potter might have helped her a bit by relieving her of that pesky virginity of hers, but now he was taking liberties by demanding she attend to him weekly for the rest of the semester. That just wasn’t on, and Daphne… Daphne wasn’t having it.
 
Not that she had minded their time together. In fact, much to her embarrassment and chagrin, Harry had made her feel better than anything ever before, even her own hands… even Tracy’s tongue. Speaking of which, Daphne wastes no time in stripping out of her robes, magically cleaned of the cum that had soaked through them a little earlier.
 
Getting into bed, she snaps her fingers and points to her cunt without a word… and Tracy, dependable, reliable Tracy Davis, slides into place betwixt her legs without a second of hesitation. The submissive witch’s tongue is soon dancing across Daphne’s folds, leaving the Pureblood Princess’ breath to hitch as she lays her head back, staring at the ceiling.
 
Even now, she can’t get that cock of his out of her head. Even now, Tracy’s tongue feels like a pale substitute in spite of the half-blood witch working in her fingers and paying special attention to Daphne’s clit, just like she likes. It’s not good enough, but Daphne doesn’t let on, she doesn’t push Tracy away. She lets the other woman work her over, even as she ponders her next move.
 
Obviously, she can’t let Potter get away with this. He thinks he’s in control. He thinks he has all the power. Even his suggestion that they take it up with the Headmistress was a carefully calculated power play, that Daphne is sure of. Why else would Harry Potter be the DADA Professor this year? Either Headmistress Tonks was so desperate that she’d offered him anything if he accepted… or he’d thrown around his not-insignificant celebrity status to get the position. Whichever option it was, they meant the same thing. The new Headmistress was powerless to stop Potter from going mad with his power. She was his stooge, more likely than not.
 
Which meant Daphne had to find another way to rebalance the scales, so to speak. She needed to find another way to get Potter under HER control, rather than the other way around. She refused to be made a fool of, refused to be turned into some… sex toy, regardless of how good his cock was.
 
No matter what, Daphne refused to spend one second longer than necessary under her DADA Professor’s thumb. She just needed to figure out what she was going to do about it… and fast.
 
A low moan leaves Daphne’s lips, and her hand comes down atop Tracy’s head as the half-blood, perhaps sensing her distraction and discontent, redoubles her efforts to get her mistress off. Curling her legs around Tracy, lacing her fingers through the brunette’s locks, she gasps in abject pleasure.
 
… Potter could wait, at least for the night…

Chapter 10: Hermione Granger Pt. 1

Time stretches every onward from that fateful day where Hermione missed her chance. Her and Harry have never felt further apart, and it hurts more than she cares to admit. But it’s just as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Harry doesn’t treat her colder or anything like that. He treats her as a teacher should teach one of their best students.
 
It’s almost like their Fifth Year, with the DA, all over again. Back then, Harry had ended up in charge of training ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ when Hermione had pushed him to do so. Merlin, that had been such a stupid name, and one that had caused so much more trouble than it was worth. Frankly, Hermione wished she’d been a little wiser back then, but even if it’d only been a few years ago, the young witch liked to think she’d done a lot of growing up since.
 
Fuck though, she was so hot for teacher. She just… she didn’t know how to show it, just like she hadn’t known how to show it back then. Honestly, she thought Harry might have gotten a clue when she literally browbeat him into teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts back in their Fifth Year. After all, as smart and capable as he was, as much as his training in the Triwizard Tournament had put him a little above the rest of them, the fact of the manner was, at the time Harry hadn’t been that much more knowledgeable in magic then any of his classmates.
 
Hermione could have taught the lot of them just as well as Harry, or so she liked to think. She could have trained them up, showed them plenty of spells, and worked them through the things they would need to be able to sit and pass their DADA OWL later that year. However, what she couldn’t do was lead them. She wasn’t a leader; she never had been.
 
Harry, on the other hand, had always had the leadership quality that Hermione was lacking. It was part of what had drawn the brunette bookworm to him so early on. From the troll attack in their First Year on, Hermione had seen what sort of leader Harry was and she’d… she’d longed for it. Longed for him.
 
Now, he wasn’t just the leader that Hermione had always known he was, he was a Hogwarts Professor. And put simply, Hermione Granger was VERY hot for teacher. That didn’t mean she was going to go off half-cocked, however. Harry might have accepted Daphne’s proposal, and he might have invited Hermione along to join the fun that night, but no subsequent invitations had manifested themselves.
 
More than that, in her heart of hearts Hermione HAD to believe that there was nothing more than a meaningless fling going on between Harry and Daphne Greengrass. He was her Professor, and she was the unruly student who had been conspiring to use him. Obviously, any sex that the two of them had would be just that, sex.
 
Equally obviously, Hermione wanted more than just sex. She wanted more from Harry then just physical intimacy, even if she had very carefully saved her virginity, her first time, for the young man who was now her DADA Professor. Hermione wanted a relationship with Harry, one that finally allowed her to express all of her pent-up feelings towards the wizard after all these years.
 
Luckily, there was one silver lining to her regretful rejection that night. Namely, Hermione found herself with all the time in the world to plan and prepare for things to be… just perfect. She wasn’t going to mess this up, not a second time, and so she wanted to make sure that she treads carefully, that everything was done right this go around.
 
It took weeks, months even, but that was okay, because Hermione had targeted a very specific day for the moment when she would strike. October Thirty-First. Halloween Night. It was a… weighted night in many ways for both of them. For Harry, it was the night his parents were killed by Lord Voldemort, and the night that the Dark Lord tried to kill him as well and failed utterly, his Killing Curse backfiring on him and giving them over a decade of peace.
 
For Hermione, it was the night she very nearly died as well, her first Halloween at Hogwarts resulting in a troll attack that had almost cost her life. It would have too, if not for Harry and Ron. In their later Hogwarts Years, Halloween would also be the night on which such events of Nearly Headless Nick’s Five Hundredth Death Day Party took place, as well as the night that Sirius Black tried to gain access to Gryffindor Tower to, as they eventually found out, kill Peter Pettigrew. Finally, it was the night in their Fourth Year when the Goblet of Fire spat out the names of the Triwizard Champions… including Harry’s as well.
 
All in all, Halloween Night was more bad than good for the two of them. Which was precisely why Hermione thought it to be the perfect night to… try and turn things around, so to speak. Certainly, she anticipated that it was a night Harry would rather not spend in the Great Hall, feasting with the rest of Hogwarts Castle. And if he wasn’t going to be at the Halloween Feast, then Hermione didn’t want to be either.
 
Instead, butterflies in her stomach, the young witch nervously but determinedly sends out a letter to Harry a week before, cordially inviting him to come and dine with her in her private quarters the night of Halloween. And, to her distinct pleasure, Harry had replied with acceptance, leaving her to plan out the perfect meal… and what would come after. It had to all be perfect. It had to be amazing. Hermione couldn’t abide by failure, not now…
 
She was going to knock Harry’s socks off. And then hopefully, he’d do the same to her.
 
-x-X-x-
 
After their initial detention and Hermione’s departure, he honestly hadn’t been sure what to do about his friend. Hermione wasn’t… distant or cold to him per say, but it had definitely felt like there was a gulf between them that hadn’t been there before.
 
Of course, Harry was well aware that that was entirely his own fault as well. He was the one who hadn’t contacted Hermione to let her know about his position as DADA Professor before term started. He was also the one who had gone on to proposition her for a threesome with Daphne Greengrass of all people. Frankly, if she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, he would have understood.
 
Instead, Hermione had seemed patently uncertain, but more determined than ever to be close to him. To be fair, she was one of his best students, as he’d known she would be. It gave Harry plenty of excuses to spend one on one time with her in class, going over what she’d achieved ahead of everyone else and giving her some extra credit work to keep her busy.
 
Harry had decided that, given a lot of the Seventh Years were actually Eighth Years this go around, retaking their Seventh Year at the behest of the Ministry, that he would go ahead and try to train them all in silent casting. And once they were passable at that, he intended to move on to wandless magic.
 
Now, wandless magic wasn’t easy. Harry himself was only really passable at it, and as he’d decided on his lesson plan, he’d also scheduled more training for himself so that by the time his students moved on from silent casting to wandless casting, he would be an expert at the latter and more than capable of teaching them all.
 
Of course, Hermione was the first to pick up silent casting, being the genius she was. They weren’t lying when they called her the smartest witch of their generation, and Harry couldn’t help but be impressed and amazed by her progress. He just had to figure out what to do with her, because while the rest of the class was coming along at the pace he’d expected and planned for, Hermione was beginning to push to the point where he might not have anything to teach her. Harry didn’t like that, as much as it left him feeling a little proud.
 
Regardless, all of this was to say, when Hermione had sent him an invitation a week before Halloween to dine with her for the evening instead of in the Great Hall, Harry had gratefully accepted. Halloween was not his favorite night of the year by a long shot, both because it was the night his parents died, and because he felt like he’d barely been able to go a year or two without something shitty happening to him at Halloween time during his years at Hogwarts.
 
He had already convinced the Headmistress to let him beg off from the feast, and with great understanding, Andromeda had told him he didn’t have to show up, not even for a moment. He’d thanked her… and then received the letter from Hermione and happily RSVP’D.
 
Now here he was, knocking on the door to the Head Girl’s rooms. He was honestly feeling a little nervous, but at the same time, happy to try and mend bridges, just a little. He didn’t want the gulf between him and Hermione to exist forever. If possible, he wanted them to be able to go back to being friends again…
 
The door opens, and Hermione stands on the other side in a cute robe. With her hair up in a ponytail, she graces him with a smile and steps aside.
 
“Come on in, Professor!”
 
As he walks in, Harry can’t help but blink at Hermione’s quarters. They’re all done up in a celebration theme of sorts. The only thing missing is a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner, somewhere. When he gives her a look, the brunette blushes a little.
 
“I thought, since we didn’t get to celebrate your birthday this summer together… we’d do it now. I-If that’s not too presumptuous.”
 
Chuckling, Harry shakes his head.
 
“No, Hermione. It’s perfect.”
 
Beaming, his best friend leads him further in. Soon enough, they’re eating dinner and while things start out a little wooden and tense between them, soon enough they’re both relaxing into their old dynamic. Of course, Hermione continues to insist on calling Harry ‘Professor’, and he’s honestly not willing to call her out on it. If it works for her, who is he to judge? And besides, having his bookworm best friend calling him Professor… it kind of does something for him, oddly enough?
 
Maybe it does something for her as well. Or maybe Harry should stop thinking about this in terms of sex. It’s all thanks to the way his life has turned on its head, more than anything. First Andromeda had convinced him to take the post at Hogwarts via sexual favors, then Tonks had tried to seduce him only to get replaced by her mother. And then Daphne and all of that, with him fucking the Greengrass witch on the weekly ever since that first detention.
 
He had sex on the mind, there was no denying it. And perhaps that was to be expected, given he was a growing young man with a healthy libido, but he was also supposed to be a person of authority now, he was supposed to be a Hogwarts Professor with all the expectations of decorum and propriety that came with. Maybe if the new Hogwarts Headmistress acted with a bit more decorum and propriety herself, Harry wouldn’t have fallen into the deep end so quickly.
 
Still, as the meal comes to a close, Harry gives Hermione a broad smile.
 
“Thank you, Hermione. This was a great idea all around. Turning the night into one of celebration instead of sorrow… I really appreciate this.”
 
Hermione lights up, beaming for a moment before she gets a somewhat furtive look in her eye. Suddenly, she’s taking him by the hand and pulling him out of his seat.
 
“We’re not done quite yet, Professor. I still have your birthday present to give you.”
 
Harry is a little embarrassed that his gaze instantly goes to Hermione’s ass, and that his first instinct is that she might be insinuating sex. Really, he needs to get his mind out of the gutter already! And yet… Hermione leads him into her bedroom, and he doesn’t see any gift wrapping or obvious presents n sight. Tugging him along, she stops in the middle of the room and turns to face him, biting her lower lip and blushing profusely.
 
And then, as if she needs to go through with it now or she never will, Hermione takes her wand and taps her robes. Harry watches as they unravel right before his eyes, vanishing in moments. So too does the tie in her hair vanish, her ponytail falling apart as her gorgeous chest-length hair cascades over her now-bared shoulders.
 
By the time the magic has run its course, Hermione is standing before him in a certain… state. Her robes are gone, and all that the young woman is wearing is thigh-high stockings in Gryffindor colors… and a bright red comically large ribbon. The ribbon wraps around her in two ways, wrapping around her chest… and wrapping downwards, sliding up between her legs.
 
The bow of the ribbon is in the middle of the chest, looking so very tantalizing in Harry’s humble opinion as she stands there in front of him, a look of desire and lust on her face, her free hand coming up to play with her hair as if she doesn’t know what to do with it, while her other hand loosely holds her wand, the implement that she’d used to expose herself to him in the first place.
 
“W-Well, Professor? What… w-what do you think?”
 
She sounds nervous, but also hopelessly turned on. Harry can’t begrudge her either of those feelings, he’s experiencing much the same thing. Hermione looks imminently fuckable as she is now, and given she’s offering herself up to him as a birthday present, the whole situation is insanely, indescribably hot. So, Harry answers truthfully.
 
“I think… I think you look beautiful, Hermione. Absolutely perfect.”
 
She beams again at that, but this time her beaming smile takes on a certain extra quality to it, given her state of undress. Harry’s cock twitches in his pants, and he licks his lips as he considers her for a moment.
 
“You can unwrap your present at any time, Professor~”
 
Oh, he was definitely going to do that. He just… he needed to decide how he was going to approach this. He had options, after all. Hermione’s insistence on calling him by his job title instead of by name might have been an indication that she wanted to engage in teacher-student play. But did he want to do that? Or did he want this to just be the two of them, two best friends expanding their relationship beyond what he’d ever thought could happen? Or, even, did he want to treat her as he had Daphne, dominating her and further exploring his new controlling tendencies?
 
Mouth dry, eyes slipping up and down Hermione’s body, Harry considers just what he’s going to do… and then steps forward, making his move.

Chapter 11: Hermione Granger Pt. 2

In the end, as he steps forward, the choice is actually very simple. He does what it’s clear Hermione wants him to do. Neither gentle nor rough, he’s instead firm with her as he reaches up a hand to caress one of her bow-wrapped tits, before giving it a solid squeeze. Hermione’s lips part and she gasps as he gives her a knowing grin.
 
“Well, well Ms. Granger. That’s quite the… offer.”
 
The use of formality rather than her first name brings color to Hermione’s cheeks as her breath hitches, and Harry can tell immediately that he made the right call. A bit of teacher-student play is exactly what the mediwitch ordered, exactly what one Hermione Granger wants to happen. And sure, it’s supposed to be his birthday celebration… but Harry can be magnanimous, especially where one of his best friends is concerned.
 
Continuing to casually but firmly grope her chest, Harry quirks an eyebrow even as he also quirks up the corner of his mouth, getting a little more into character.
 
“I do hope you’re not expecting special treatment in class from any of this, Ms. Granger.”
 
Hermione’s eyes widen briefly, but she understands well enough that he’s teasing her. Still, she squirms a little in his grasp, pouting mightily as she shakes her head in denial.
 
“O-Of course not, Professor! I would n-never dream of it!”
 
Humming, Harry nods his head in agreement.
 
“No, you’re right. You’re a good student, Ms. Granger. You don’t need special treatment to excel. You’re a very good girl.”
 
A soft little moan leaves Hermione’s mouth at that, and Harry’s smile becomes a full blown grin. Oh yeah, he’s hitting all of her buttons right now. Still, he pulls his hand back after a moment without having unwrapped his present, leaving Hermione to furrow her brow in confusion.
 
“I find myself not quite ready yet to unwrap my present, Ms. Granger. Why don’t you conjure yourself a cushion and get down on your knees.”

As her eyes brighten with understanding, she hurries to obey, her wand flashing down at the space between them to create a cushion, which she then kneels on primly, hands atop her legs as she looks up at him. Harry steps forward, so that his crotch is mere inches from her face, and gives her a wide smile that Hermione correctly interprets.
 
Blushing profusely at this point, the beautiful brunette bookworm nevertheless reaches up and unbuttons and unzips his trousers, pulling them down, and then pulling his boxers down a moment later. Harry’s breath hitches as Hermione releases his cock from its confines, his member already rock hard from the birthday surprise that was the gorgeous witch all tied up in a big red bow.
 
As such, his member springs out of his boxers and nearly smacks Hermione in the face, causing her to jolt backwards to avoid getting hit. But just as fast as she moves back, she’s moving in again, her hands hesitant but nevertheless determined as they take ahold of his cock and she stares at it, panting softly.
 
“You’re… y-you’re very big, Professor.”
 
Harry grins and cocks an eyebrow up at that.
 
“Are you worried you won’t be able to handle it, Ms. Granger? It’s perfectly fine if you can’t… it’s important for us to recognize our limitations.”
 
He knows exactly what he’s doing, mentioning limitations to the smartest witch of his generation. Hermione Granger, the girl who got permission to use fucking TIME TRAVEL in their third year so she could take more classes, wasn’t someone who would be willing to live by a word like ‘limitations’. As such, Harry isn’t remotely surprised when her resolve firms up and she grips a little harder at his cock with her smooth, creamy palms.
 
“N-No! I can handle it, P-Professor. If that bitch Greengrass c-can do it, so can I…”
 
“Hm, that’s the spirit Ms. Granger. Though admittedly, Ms. Greengrass had it in her mouth by this point…”
 
Look, Harry is still a young man with an incredibly healthy libido. As hot as Hermione looks right now, he’s still a guy, and a guy with needs at that. Hermione has left him in some kind of way with this surprise, and he’s ready for more action then a little bit of handjob play. So yeah, since she brought her up first, he uses Daphne as a bit of a weapon, blunt force though it might be… and it works.
 
At the thought of her rival doing better than her, Hermione quickly dives down his cock. The gorgeous brunette witch opens her mouth as wide as she can and guides his impressively large schlong right past her lips. Harry is expecting an inexperienced blowjob, but to his mild surprise… Hermione is very good. There’s something a little mechanical to her oral skills, but she’s very good at keeping her teeth away, and the entire experience is incredibly pleasure. There’s none of the first time jitters he’s expecting, and Harry comments before he can stop himself.
 
“Fuck, that’s good…”
 
Hermione’s eyes flicker up to meet his at the note of disbelief in his voice and Harry furrows his brow down at her, trying not to break character, but also curious beyond belief. Blushing a bit brighter, Hermione pulls off of his cock with a pop and licks her lips nervously before answering the obvious question on his mind.
 
“I-I practiced a l-lot sir… for you…”
 
Blinking, Harry can’t help but repeat her own words back to her. Or rather, one of her words.
 
“Practiced?”
 
Hermione looks as red as a tomato by this point, and he’s sensing some serious embarrassment here. Finally, she ducks her head and explains.
 
“W-When we were on the run… you thought I didn’t notice, but I did. Um, whenever you had to… relieve your stress at night, I h-heard you. And… more than once, I might have snuck a peak while you were showering. SoImadeanexactmagicalreplicaofyourpenisfrommemoryandpracticedoralsexonit!”
 
Wait, run that by him again? Reaching out, Harry places a hand atop Hermione’s head, stopping her from diving back down his cock and escaping this conversation.
 
“Repeat that. Slower.”
 
Whimpering, Hermione glances between his dick and him for a moment, before her shoulders slump in defeat.
 
“… I made an exact magical replica of your penis from memory… and p-practiced oral sex on it, sir.”
 
Oh. That was what she meant by practiced. Harry is a bit dumbfounded, but as the seconds drag on, he realizes he’s not quite as surprised as he should be. That… it sounded exactly like something Hermione would do. Not only had he clearly not been as quiet and subtle as he’d thought back during their days on the run, Hermione had apparently been on the lookout for it… because his best friend clearly had a crush on him a mile long.
 
And of course, someone like Hermione Granger wouldn’t go into anything without proper preparation. So yeah, it made sense that she’d made some sort of magical dildo resembling what she’d seen of his dick and then… used it to plan out how she was going to knock his socks off with oral. Wow. That was…
 
“H-Harry?”
 
Blinking, Harry realizes Hermione is still kneeling in front of him as he got lost in his own little world for a moment. She looks distraught, almost on the verge of tears, and he realizes she’s waiting for his reaction and taking his silence and blank stare off into the distance as something more negative then it actually is.
 
With a grin, Harry gathers Hermione’s hair up into a makeshift ponytail and smiles down at her encouragingly.
 
“I don’t think I told you to stop, Ms. Granger. Put my dick back in your mouth… there’s a good girl.”
 
As Hermione attacks his cock with a voraciousness that somewhat takes him aback, Harry lets out a contented sigh, his grip on the makeshift ponytail not too tight and not too controlling. In the end, Hermione is her greatest taskmaster and always has been. In the wake of being forced to reveal such an embarrassing secret and finding out he wants to continue having sex with her anyways, she goes all out sucking his cock, even deep-throating it a little bit, though she pulls back as she gags and gurgles.
 
Obviously, deep-throating isn’t something that his brunette best friend has had much practice with. But that’s okay, in Harry’s estimation. She doesn’t need to be an expert at all things sex just yet. She’s already sexy as fuck as it is, in his humble opinion.
 
It’s not long before her mouth and hands on his cock have Harry nearing the edge. With a low groan, he throws his head back, barely remembering to stay ‘in character’ as he speaks.
 
“F-Fuck Ms. Granger… I’m getting close.”
 
Pulling off his cock with a pop for just a moment, Hermione makes a point of fluttering her lashes and smiling at him coyly.
 
“Please, Professor. Allow me to swallow your seed. It’s the least this naughty mouth of mine could do after I disrupted your class all those weeks ago.”
 
… That might just be the hottest thing Hermione has ever said to him. As she dives back down his cock, it’s not much longer before Harry tips over the edge and starts to cum. Hermione catches his seed in her mouth, and collects it there, her cheeks slowly ballooning out until eventually she’s forced to swallow down a gulp of it lest it explode out of the sides of her mouths.
 
She drinks down quite a bit of his jizz before he’s finally done, but eventually it’s over and Harry releases her hair as Hermione pulls back. Sitting back on her heels and placing her hands atop her legs once more, Hermione tilts her head back and opens her mouth, letting her cum-coated tongue loll out to show the last couple of spurts of his seed still in her mouth. Harry smiles his approval and gives a nod, which Hermione takes as permission to swallow.
 
Then, she thrusts her chest out, biting her lower lip and staring at him with what can only be described as bedroom eyes as she wiggles there on the cushion before him.
 
“Are you ready to unwrap your present now, Professor? Your present is more than ready herself~”
 
Chuckling, Harry nods and reaches down, fingering one end of the big red bow that she’s tied around herself. It feels quite good, to be… unwrapping her, so to speak. Perhaps that’s why he’s having a hard time actually doing it though. It feels like such a momentous occasion. He’s put off the actual unwrapping, because then it’s all very, very real. He’s actually going to have sex with his best friend, even if it’s under the guise of teacher-student play.
 
Letting out a shuddering breath, Harry finally bites the bullet and begins to tug on the bow’s end. Hermione’s breath hitches as the silken-like cloth of the big red wrapping bow slowly comes undone, the fabric pulling across her breasts and more importantly her nipples, which are absolutely rock hard when they’re finally unveiled to him.
 
He pulls until the bow comes completely away, exposing Hermione in all of her naked beauty, with the Gryffindor-themed stockings being the last thing that the brunette bookworm is wearing. Blushing as he steps back with the length of red silk in his hands, Hermione slowly rises to her feet, not covering herself up in the slightest, her hands resting at her sides as she lets Harry just… gaze upon her in awe and appreciation.
 
Of course, she doesn’t let him do so forever. After a bit of gawking, Hermione starts to squirm and eventually clears her throat.
 
“A-Ah… um… P-Professor? How… how do you want me?”
 
How does he want her? He wants her every possible way he can have her. He wants her on every surface in this room. He wants her in every position he can think of, and some that she might know but he doesn’t. Fuck, he just fucking wants her. And he gets her too. She’s offering herself to him freely.
 
It’s a heady thought… but before anything else, Harry knows what he wants most of all. Letting the ribbon drop to his feet, he surges forward and before Hermione knows it, grabs her and picks her up bodily in his arms, lifting her and walking her towards the wall. She squeals in surprise and then delight when he buries his face in her tits for a moment and just rubs back and forth.
 
Then, they reach the wall and Harry slides down to his knees while continuing to lift Hermione up. The end result is that her legs are draped over his shoulders and her back is against the wall as he kneels there, now the one with his face in front of HER crotch instead of the other way around. Hermione’s eyes go wide and her complexion goes bright crimson again when she realizes what he’s about to do, but she doesn’t try to protest or anything, so Harry just grins up at her… and then dives in.
 
A wanton moan subsequently fills the room as Harry sticks his tongue inside of his best friend and begins to eat her out. He’s not nearly as good at this as she was at oral… but he’s not above cheating. His tongue elongates a bit as he begins tracing the letters of the Alphabet, an old trick he’d heard once, though from where, he knew not.
 
Hermione’s gasps and moaning mewls increase in intensity as her hand comes down atop his head, gripping tightly at his messy black hair. Her other hand goes up on the wall behind her as she arches her back and squeals, shuddering in his grasp.
 
“P-Professor!!!”
 
Chuckling, Harry keeps on going, he keeps on working. His tongue… his tongue makes short work of ‘Ms. Granger’, that’s for sure. He drives her absolutely wild, and boy if that isn’t gratifying. In the end, Harry’s goal is to return the favor, to reciprocate for her impressive oral effort… and so he does, working his magically elongated tongue away at Hermione’s insides until she finally lets out a singularly impressive squeal and orgasms, her hips bucking and her pussy juices pooling into his mouth.
 
He holds her steady as she climaxes for him, and only as she’s coming down from that release does Harry extract his tongue from within her and pull away, slowly letting her down again, her legs wobbly as her feet struggle to find their footing and she has to lean back against the wall for support. Eyes twinkling as he stands up, Harry cocks his head to the side, liking how Hermione looks even more disheveled and freshly sexed then before now.
 
… He’s ready now, he decides. Ready to ‘have her’, as she’d previously put it. Of course, the question of HOW to fuck her was still in the air, wasn’t it? So many positions to choose from… how was he ever going to pick just one?

Chapter 12: Hermione Granger Pt. 3

On second thought, the question of how to go about fucking Hermione Jane Granger wasn’t a hard one to answer at all after a moment of consideration. Why should he limit himself to one position, after all? More succinctly put, the answer was clearly… as many as humanly possible!
 
Surging forward, Harry collides with Hermione’s quivering, shaking form, pushing her up against the wall as she’s still trying to recover from his exquisite bout of parseltonguing. Yelping, the brunette bookworm can only moan as Harry brings his mouth down upon one of her tits, while at the same time reaching down and hooking a hand up under one of her thighs.
 
Lifting a leg into the air, he angles his cock just right, and a moment later spears into Hermione from below, filling her pussy with his length and taking her virginity right then and there on the spot. Is he surprised that she still had an intact hymen? Not really, but either way her virginity just isn’t that important at this point. They both know what they want, and Harry in particular has decided he’s not going to hold back. Not for this… maybe not ever again.
 
“P-Professor!”
 
Hermione’s husky voice from before has become a squeaky tone as she grabs onto his shoulders for support, her one remaining foot on the ground all the way up on its tip toes now thanks to his intensity. As he takes her in a standing fuck, she squeals and moans in equal measure, her pussy walls clenching down hard around his cock, but neither managing to push him out or hold him in. He just keeps pounding her up against the wall.
 
“Y-You’re so r-rough, Professor!”
 
Finally disengaging from her tit, leaving behind red marks from where he’d nibbled at her breastflesh, Harry looks up into Hermione’s eyes and gives her a sardonic smile.
 
“I’m sorry Ms. Granger… but I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back from here on out.”
 
His blunt honesty causes Hermione’s eyes to widen… and her pussy walls to clench down even HARDER around his cock. It takes him a moment to realize the keening noise that emits from her barely parted plush lips and the way she’s spasming on his dick are indications that he just brought her to orgasm. Letting out a light bit of laughter, Harry just shakes his head and leans in again, this time capturing Hermione’s mouth with his own.

She quickly wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in and kissing him back as he takes her up against the wall hard and fast, pounding into her time and time again with a ferocity that couldn’t be matched, that couldn’t be withstood.
 
Luckily she has the wall to support her, but Harry… Harry is just getting started. In fact, he knows where he wants to take her next, he knows where they’re going. And so, after pounding into her clenching cunt for a good little while, he suddenly pulls away, letting out a lustful growl as he drags Hermione off the wall with him and over to the nearby table.
 
She yelps as he bends her over it without hesitation, treating her rather roughly and even giving her perfectly plump posterior a nice hard upwards swat in order to make her rise it sufficiently up into the air to meet his raging erection. As her back arches from her laying flat over the table and also going up onto her tip toes at the same time, Harry holds Hermione by the back of the neck in place with one hand while he takes his cock with the other and feeds it into her needy, horny pussy.
 
“Ohhhh Merlin~ Professor you’re so BIG!”
 
Grinning, Harry begins to plow Hermione in this new position, pounding into her from behind… more accurately, PLOWING into her from behind. As he rams forward and her gushing wet quim responds by getting slicker and slicker, Harry leans in, panting heavily as he responds directly into her ear.
 
“All the better to fuck you silly with, Ms. Granger. Tell me more about how much you love my cock.”
 
“It’s soooo good, Professor! I love being a teacher’s pet! I love being fucked silly bent over a table! Give it to me more! Give it to me HARDER!”
 
He’s already fucking her pretty hard, but Harry does his best to accommodate her desires all the same. The clap of his hips against her ass cheeks grows louder and louder as he slams home into her sopping pussy time and time again. His balls swing up and slap against her clit, driving Hermione to even higher heights of ecstasy and euphoric bliss. Her pussy grows tight and then relaxes, flexing as she orgasms for him multiple times over the course of the objectively explosive pounding.
 
Still, Harry wants more. He wants it all. And right now, he’s in complete control… which means of course that he’s going to GET it all. After pounding Hermione into the table hard enough to make it shake and rock for a several minutes, Harry reaches out and grabs hold of her brunette locks, yanking them back and forcing them into a makeshift ponytail that he wraps around his fist.
 
Then, pulling her off of the table, he sends them both to the floor. Hermione lets out a yelp yet again as she’s forced to her hands and knees, but this time his cock doesn’t leave her pussy, and the feel of her inner walls clenching down HARD around his member makes it clear she’s actually really enjoying the rough, forceful treatment. Curious, Harry cocks his head to the side as he begins to fuck her doggystyle, eyeing the back of his best friend’s head as her moans fill the room.
 
Reaching around her with his other hand, he grabs her by the neck gently but firmly, even as he leans in close.
 
“Tell me, Ms. Granger… what is it about my treatment of you that appeals to you so greatly? I can feel how sopping wet you are. I’ve been keeping track of just how many orgasms you’ve experienced around my cock. Are you just a masochistic slut? Or is there something more to it?”
 
Between yelps and moans, Hermione does her best to answer. Harry expected nothing left from the brunette bookworm and all around teacher’s pet. She can’t leave a question or query from a Professor unanswered for even a minute if it’s in her power to do so.
 
“I-I enjoy s-submission, Professor… it’s not p-pain I get off on, but the knowledge that I’m, oooh, being a g-good little girl for you, s-sir… I can be w-whatever you need me to be, Professor. You don’t, nngh, have to h-hold back on my account…”
 
Trust Hermione to know exactly what she’s about. It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it? More likely, Harry muses, she probably immediately began researching her own kinks and sexual fetishes in preparation for this moment all that time ago, when she’d fled from him and Daphne in his office. From that moment on, Hermione had been readying herself to be whatever she needed to be in order to catch his interest.
 
In the end though, she really just needed to be herself. While Harry was enjoying taking her to pound town, he wasn’t going to hurt her overly much if she didn’t enjoy being hurt. Indeed, if she’d answered yes to his question about being a masochist, he would have spanked her some more. As it is, Hermione hasn’t done anything to deserve such punishment if she’s not going to enjoy it.
 
Instead, Harry lets go of her hair and throat and settles his hands on her hips and ass, digging his fingers in and massaging her plump derriere as he leans back and fucks her all the harder. Letting her head drop low, Hermione moans and mewls and cries out as she gets pounded doggystyle, her toes curling in distinct pleasure and her pussy continuing to gush down the length of his cock at intermittent intervals as a result of his massive member plowing into her again and again.
 
She’s just so tight and so fucking wet. It’s impossible for Harry to hold back for any appreciable length of time, if he’s being honest. Hermione is imminently fuckable, her body MADE to be sexed up. It starts with him leaning forward to reach around her again, this time to grab her tits and begin groping and squeezing and kneading them to his heart’s content, enjoying the breathless moans that the action causes.
 
But as he mounts her fully, his body draped over hers, Harry’s powerful thrusts ultimately cause Hermione’s limbs to buckle. She goes down to her elbows after a little while, but even that’s not enough as he all but pounds her into the ground, until she falls from her hands and knees and ends up completely pressed against the floor.
 
A prone bone is okay too though, Harry can’t help but thinking. Hermione’s legs go straight and his cock now has to pass through her milky, creamy, soft thighs in order to plow into her pussy. He’s not penetrating as deeply as he was before, maybe, but depth isn’t everything. Hermione is still moaning up a storm, even as his hands go from her tits, which are now trapped under her body, to her shoulders.
 
Laid out over her, Harry rams into her from above, pressing her into the ground and slamming home into her quim time and time again. Her insides are beginning to properly give way, her pussy losing a bit of it’s tightness from the seemingly never-ending onslaught. Harry knows from his weekly experiences with Daphne that she’ll be quick to recover once he’s done, but he’s far from done at the moment.
 
Still, that’s not to say Hermione is becoming loose or anything like that. Rather, she’s fitting his cock perfectly at this point, turning into the perfect sheathe for his member as her plump, thicc thighs caress the base of his dick and his ball sack, acting as pillows for both. There are no words exchanged between the two of them during this time. Rather, it’s more accurate to say that they’ve gone fully primal, with Harry prone boning Hermione on the floor quite aggressively. No more Professor and Ms. Granger, just a man fucking a woman, plowing her silly and getting ready to seed her.
 
However, the thought of his encroaching orgasm makes Harry long for something more… intimate. Right now Hermione is just a fuck toy, pinned down and used for his pleasure, even as she experiences her own share of orgasmic ecstasy as well. Harry wants more than that… and so he pulls out of her one last time, knowing that the next time he plunges into her depths, he’ll soon cum.
 
Hermione doesn’t know his inner thoughts though and can only whine piteously at the sudden loss of the thick fat cock in her pussy. She mewls pathetically, like a kitten who’s lost her cream. But Harry isn’t slow in changing up their position one last time. Hermione is rolled over onto her back and his hands pull her legs up on either side of her into the air, even as he moves forward, his cock nestling between her pussy lips.
 
They stare at each other for a moment… and then Harry thrusts forward, getting to watch Hermione’s O-face as even that singular thrust is enough to make her cum on the spot. Her eyes then roll up in her head and her tongue remains lolling out of her mouth, even as Harry leans forward and begins to take Hermione in a mating press.
 
It just feels right. If he’s going to pump her fill of his seed, then he needs to be face to face. And so, as her legs are pushed back by his shoulders, Harry slides his hands down from them and over to Hermione’s hands. His fingers lace with her fingers as he pins her hands back on either side of her head. His cock is once again plunging into Hermione from above again and again, but this time they’re facing one another.
 
As their lips meet, Hermione kisses him back hungrily, still with that insensate expression on her face but clearly acting on instinct as their tongues duel with one another. Meanwhile, her legs, now freed of his grasp, end up coming down and wrapping around his waist as he takes her right then and there on the floor of the room while holding hands.

There’s nothing slow about his thrusts, they’re not in a dark bedroom under the covers… but then, that’s a level of lewdity that even Harry wouldn’t be caught engaging in. Still, there’s no denying that the final position that Harry pounds Hermione in is a consummate mating press, and when he finally cums inside of her a few moments later, she squeals into his mouth, her eyes rolling around in her skull and her pussy clenching down hard around his cock, milking it for every last drop of his seed.
 
He paints the insides of her womb white and the two of them just lay there for a moment, holding one another tightly, their fingers locked together and their bodies pressed against each other. But… it is the floor and that’s not the most comfortable place, especially for cuddles. Eventually they pull apart and Harry lifts Hermione up into a bridal carry, taking her to the nearby bedroom where they can actually relax and cuddle with one another.
 
As Hermione nuzzles up against him, curling into his side, Harry wraps an arm around her and smiles, perfectly content and seriously spent. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione lets out a breathless, happy little sigh.
 
“That was… amazing, Harry. Best first time ever.”
 
His smile transforms into a wide grin at that, and he looks down into Hermione’s eyes, able to see that she means it, wholly and utterly.
 
“I had a great time to, Hermione. Best birthday present ever as well.”
 
Blushing, the brunette bookworm ducks her head shyly, mumbling thanks for his praise. For a little while, they continue to cuddle with one another, before ultimately falling asleep in each other’s arms.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Meanwhile, the other two women that Harry has drawn into his orbit since the school year began have not been idle while Hermione was planning this birthday celebration. Daphne Greengrass and Nymphadora Tonks each have their own plans. Besides them, the rest of the school is beginning to grow a little restless as well, shall we say.
 
Neither Harry nor Hermione realize just how many witches at Hogwarts are only there for a chance at Harry James Potter. But the Man-Who-Won would learn soon enough.

Chapter 13: Nymphadora Tonks

Nymphadora Tonks was desperate. And desperate women took risks. What else was she supposed to do, when her own mother was seemingly so intent on cockblocking her at every turn?! She needed to find a way to get the Headmistress off her game. She needed to find a way to get Harry alone, so that she could have her own taste of the Man-Who-Won.
 
Was it so much to ask that she get to have some fun with Harry, while also rewarding him for his service to the Wizarding World? Was it truly so terrible for her to try and start a sexual relationship with the godfather of her son? Tonks didn’t think so, but obviously Andromeda did. And unless Tonks took drastic measures, she was never going to manage to get Harry into bed.
 
Luckily for her, she was not without options. This year, Hogwarts’ faculty had seen quite the shakeup. The entire school had been… jostled a bit, and a lot of the old timers who had been stuck in the stonework and seemingly impossible to get rid of both during Tonks’ time as a student as well as for decades before, had been shaken loose.
 
It wasn’t just people like Minerva McGonagall who had been forced into retirement, nor people like Harry Potter who had been brought in to try and break the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. No, while Tonks was well aware of Harry’s general oblivious to the nature of most of the strangers who now walked Hogwarts’ halls and taught its students, the fact was, many of them WEREN’T unaware of him.
 
In fact, if she didn’t know any better, Tonks would say most of them were here FOR Harry. Actually, in at least one case she was pretty sure she DID know better. The position of Potions Professor had been taken up by a witch that Tonks was actually VERY familiar with in fact. Potions Mistress Yennefer hailed from somewhere in Europe originally, and was a long-time acquaintance of her mother’s, from what Tonks knew.
 
Apparently, back when Andromeda had originally been kicked out of the Black Family, she’d been in dire need of support. Yennefer and her European Colleagues had provided that support, some sort of organization called the Lodge of Sorceresses from what Tonks recalled. Indeed, while Yennefer was the one that Tonks was most familiar with, she was pretty sure several other witches from the Lodge had taken up positions at Hogwarts this year as well.
 
If she stopped and thought about it for a moment… there was Triss Merigold, a feisty red head who had taken over Charms from Professor Flitwick. There was Philippa Eilhart, a no-nonsense Owl Animagus who had taken on the Transfiguration Professorship. There was Fringilla Vigo, the new Hogwarts Librarian. And Margarita Laux-Antille, the new History of Magic teacher.
 
Honestly, to find out that it had been as simple as exorcising Binns after all this time… Tonks had to wonder just when Dumbledore had turned senile, because the old man had damaged more than one generation of wizards and witches by letting Binns turn History of Magic into a never-ending droning lecture about the Goblin Rebellions and nothing fucking else.
 
Still, those were just the women that Tonks knew were from the Lodge of Sorceresses. There were also several women from overseas in the Americas who Tonks knew a LOT less about. Herbology had been taken over by a red-haired American Witch named Pamela Isley who not only had a green thumb, but an entirely pale green body. Her assistant, Harleen Quinzel, was a bit manic from what Tonks had heard.
 
Meanwhile, Astronomy was now overseen by a regal blonde name Emma Frost. She too had an assistant, a shy red head named Jean Grey. And rounding out the collection of American Immigrants was the new Arithmancy Professor Zatanna Zatara and her assistant, Raven Roth.
 
One might think they were suffering an invasion, but luckily it wasn’t all Europeans and Americans taking over good, solid Professorships at Britain’s Premiere Wizarding School. Of course, Nymphadora wasn’t entirely sure it was a good thing that Narcissa Malfoy was now the Professor for Ancient Runes. There were a lot of leftover bad feelings between her and her aunt. Andromeda and Narcissa might have made up in the wake of the war, but Tonks just wasn’t sure she could feel the same… possibly ever.
 
Still, Penelope Clearwater had been a good choice for Muggle Studies, and Tonks knew precisely how capable Angelina Johnson was at flying, so she’d probably make a good new Flying Instructor. Especially with Alicia and Katie supporting her.
 
The last two replacements, a mediwitch named Shani taking over Madam Pomfrey’s old job, and another witch named Keira Metz taking on the Divination Professorship, Tonks knew even less about. What they wanted, who they had ties to, and what their goals were… she had no idea, one way or the other.
 
But facts were what they were. Hogwarts was filled to the brim with foreign witches and witches who, deep down inside, Tonks was quite sure all wanted a piece of Harry Potter. He wasn’t just the most eligible bachelor on the faculty staff after all, he was also the Man-Who-Won. He was the Vanquisher of Voldemort not once, not twice, but several times over if one counted every encounter they had where Harry came out the victor, as well as every horcrux he’d had to destroy in his quest to end the Dark Lord once and for all.
 
Tonks couldn’t protect Harry if she didn’t have access to him. And her mother seemed obsessed about blocking Tonks from getting to the young man. Which meant it was time to bring out the big guns… it was time to make a deal with the devil.
 
“Auntie Yen~”
 
Calling out in a sing-song voice, Tonks walks into the Potions Classroom with a smile on her face. The day is long over and it’s just Yennefer behind her desk, looking up with those beautiful lilac eyes of hers as she raises a perfectly sculpted brow in response to Tonks’ words.
 
As always is the case when she finds herself in the absolutely stunning witch’s presence, Tonks finds herself subconsciously shifting her form until she’s as beautiful as she can possibly manage. Truth be told, when Tonks was younger, Yennefer was part of the template she’d used for her favored form. As a metamorphmagus, she had a somewhat disconnected view of her physical body. There was no ‘base’ or ‘standard’ form for one such as her, merely a favored form that she was constantly changing, adapting, updating, and altering to make as spectacular as it could be.
 
Yennefer was… Tonks was pretty sure the other witch wasn’t actually a metamorphmagus like she was. But if the Potions Mistress hadn’t used potions and rituals to sculpt and transform her body into the vision of perfection that sat before her now, Tonks would quite literally be willing to eat her own tongue. The purple-eyed, raven-haired woman was just too fucking perfectly proportioned to be natural.
 
“Oh? I’m your auntie now, am I? As I recall, you only ever called me that when you wanted something from me, Little Nym.”
 
Flushing a bit at the old pet name, Tonks squirms a bit in place. It was true that Yennefer wasn’t technically related to her or her mother by blood… at least as far as Tonks was aware. But Andromeda had leaned heavily on Yennefer and the Lodge of Sorceresses’ help back in the day, and so Tonks had grown up with Yen being around all the time. In what she would eventually come to realize was a rare display of affection, Yennefer had deigned to allow Tonks to call her Auntie Yen… and Tonks had turned around and really only done so when it benefited her most.
 
“O-Oh c’mon, you know that’s not true!”
 
Cheerfully lying through her teeth, Tonks skips forward until she comes to a stop in front of Yennefer’s desk. The Potions Mistress snorts derisively, managing to make even that action look sexy, even as she crosses her arms over her chest.
 
“What can I do for you, Caretaker Tonks?”
 
Tch, she was really going to act so cool and haughty, was she? Pouting mightily, Tonks plants her hands palm down on the desk in front of her, leaning forward and getting serious.
 
“I need your help Yen. It’s my mother.”
 
“Andromeda? What about her?”
 
Scowling, Tonks curls her hands into fists, though she thinks better of banging them on the desk in front of her like a petulant child.
 
“She’s being insufferable! I want her reined in… and I know that you can do it.”
 
Lifting both eyebrows at that, Yennefer lets out a light, tinkling bit of laughter, a melodic tone as she shakes her head.
 
“Whatever do you mean by that, Caretaker Tonks? I am but the Potions Professor here at Hogwarts. Your mother is the Headmistress and therefore my direct superior. If anyone is going to be reining anyone in, I would imagine it would be she reining in me, presumably.”
 
Even as she speaks, her violet eyes are twinkling with mischief. Tonks just puffs out her cheeks, narrowing her own eyes and growling.
 
“I’m not a child anymore, Yen. I know that my mother owes you. Maybe she owed you enough to get you this job, huh? Or maybe you guys did a little quid pro quo and your Lodge helped her get the position of Headmistress if she, in turn, made all of your dreams come true.”
 
The accusation does not fall on deaf ears, and Tonks feels like she’s finally getting somewhere, even as Yennefer’s eyes narrow in turn and a tendril of something odd makes its way down Tonks’ spine.
 
“Careful there, dear little Nym. What are you insinuating, exactly?”
 
“N-Nothing! Nothing more than this… the relationship between you and my mother isn’t quite so clear cut as you might make it appear. I think you can help me with her. I’m willing to make a deal.”
 
A moment later, the tense atmosphere disappears, and Yennefer is all smug little smiles and raised eyebrows again.
 
“Are you now? And what sort of deal are you looking for, darling? How exactly is your mother being… insufferable?”
 
Grimacing, Tonks can admit to herself how silly it feels now that she’s about to say it out loud. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?
 
“… I want some alone time with Harry Potter. The Headmistress has been stymying my efforts to do so at every turn.”
 
Something dark crosses over Yen’s face then and she bites back a bitter laugh, muttering something under her breath.
 
“… You and everyone else, my dear…”
 
Blinking, Tonks furrows her brow, wondering just what she heard.
 
“Sorry, what was that?”
 
But Yennefer just shakes her head and waves a hand airily.
 
“Your mother is indeed protective of the fine young gentleman who’s taken up the DADA Professorship. She’s told me that she wants to give him a chance to… acclimate to his new position before drowning him in too much interfaculty interaction. Perhaps you just need to be patient and wait for her to decide he’s ready for more?”
 
Could Yennefer be right? Tonks’ own observations had led her to believe that many of the women in the castle this year were here for one reason and one reason only… Harry James Potter. But almost none of them had made a move yet. Apparently, it wasn’t just Tonks that Andromeda was holding at bay, but everyone else as well.
 
On the one hand, Tonks could understand her mother’s reasoning if that WAS the case. On the other…
 
“Fuck that. She has no right to keep me away from him. Which is why I need your help, Yennefer!”
 
Seeing the Potions Mistress staring at her quietly, Tonks forges onwards, undeterred.
 
“I know that if we work together, we can stop my mom from interfering! Harry should have the right to make his own choices about who he interacts with, don’t you think?!”
 
“I agree.”
 
Yennefer’s sudden agreement makes Tonks blink, taking some of the wind out of her sails.
 
“Uh… y-you do?”
 
“Oh yes. I’ve been wanting to approach Mr. Potter for some time now and have only refrained because of your mother’s… edict. Admittedly, he has seemed oblivious to my presence and indeed all of the new faces in the castle. That said, I wasn’t going to wait much longer. Still, if you’re going to do this, you know you’re likely to make an enemy of your mother, don’t you? And at the same time… I don’t do anything for free.”
 
Yennefer’s words don’t exactly fill Tonks with confidence. Not for the first time, she finds herself once again second-guessing herself. Was it right, coming to Yennefer with this? Or should Tonks have considered another option? There were other choices, and the way Yen was staring at her so hungrily, those violet eyes practically glowing with purpose… Tonks wondered if maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here.
 
Or maybe she was just overthinking it and paranoid. Maybe she was just letting her preconceived notions about things get in the way. Yennefer had never done wrong by her! Really, there was no reason to doubt the Potions Mistress now!
 
“… What do you want, exactly?”
 
Humming, Yennefer glances at her nails for a moment, clearly feigning disinterest.
 
“If I’m going to help you distract your mother long enough for you to sink your claws into dear Mr. Potter, I’m going to want assurances. You’ll owe me one, Tonks… and I can assure you, I will likely collect before the year is out. On the other hand, you could go to one of my colleagues and strike a deal with them. Philippa, for instance, would be just as capable of helping you.”
 
Furrowing her brow, Tonks stares at Yennefer, unsure of why the Potions Professor would… suggest an alternative like that. She didn’t even KNOW Philippa Eilhart that well, other than the basics. But then, perhaps that was the point. Yennefer was contrasting herself with Philippa to show Tonks that she was the better choice. The Devil You Know, and all that rot.
 
But then… by that logic, the true devil would be Tonks’ own mother. That was the third option, wasn’t it? She could go directly to Andromeda and actually TALK to her, woman to woman, instead of this backroom dealing she was doing with Yen.
 
… She just really, REALLY didn’t want to. But she needed to make a choice. She needed to decide just how she was going to get to her goal. That being one Harry James Potter, buried inside of her.

Chapter 14: Nymphadora Tonks Pt. 2

Staring into Yennefer’s violet eyes, Nymphadora Tonks comes to a decision that she wasn’t expecting to come to. The Devil You Know…
 
Abruptly, Tonks steps back from Yennefer’s desk, causing the utterly gorgeous older witch to raise a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in question.
 
“You’re right. Why make an uninformed deal with you when I can play the field, yeah?”
 
Yennefer’s smile turns somewhat frigid, her lips thinning out ever so slightly as her eyes flash with an inch of threatening malice.
 
“Careful now, dear little Nym… I can assure you, I’m the kinder among those you could go to in this school.”
 
Smirking, feeling more and more confident about her decision by the second, Tonks juts out her chin, crossing her arms over her chest.
 
“Oh, I’m not going to go to any of them… why should I, when I can go straight to the source? I think it’s time my mother and I finally had an overdue heart-to-heart.”
 
This time, Yennefer’s face doesn’t so much as twitch or change. If she has any reaction to Tonks so deftly sidestepping the problem she was facing, she doesn’t show it. However, that in and of itself might be a tell, Tonks can’t help but figure. After a moment’s pause, Yennefer flares her nostrils, letting out an exhale as she leans back in her chair while tapping a finger on her desk.
 
“Very well, love. If you think that will work out for you, go ahead. I will be waiting, when you fail to get what you want.”
 
Yennefer’s confidence is a little unnerving. Just why was she so convinced that Tonks and her mother wouldn’t be able to talk this out like two regular adults? Furrowing her brow, throwing Yen one last uncertain look, Tonks retreats from the Potion Mistress’ office, making her way back up through the castle.
 
Refusing to put this off for a moment longer, the Hogwarts Caretaker makes her way directly to the Headmistress’ Quarters. NOT her office. As tempting as that might be, Tonks wants to diffuse some of the power and authority her mother has, as well as avoid all of the prying eyes and ears of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses whose paintings hang on the walls overlooking her.
 
Instead, Tonks arrives outside of her mother’s quarters and knocks. When that doesn’t get an answer, she sends out a patronus missive to Andromeda, a message that simply says ‘I’m waiting to speak outside of your chambers’. When the patronus runs off rather than entering the room, Tonks knows she’s… early by a little bit.
 
Still, nothing for it, is there? She stands and waits, leaning against the cobblestone wall with her arms crossed over her chest, until her mother finally arrives. It’s telling that Andromeda didn’t send back another patronus in response, though Tonks doesn’t know how to read into it exactly. Her mother looks… ever so slightly harried, as she approaches her door, her eyes flicking over Tonks before she ultimately lets out a resigned sigh.
 
“… Very well. Come, join me inside.”
 
Nodding, Tonks watches as Andromeda uses her wand to unravel the magical lock on the door to her quarters. While passwords might be the norm in some parts of the castle, other areas were considered much too important to trust to such a basic form of security. Andromeda’s chambers, for instance, were guarded by her magical signature, not something that could be spoofed very easily, especially not without her knowledge.
 
The door opens and Andromeda steps inside. Tonks follows her mother in, feeling almost like a young teenager again, rather than an adult witch with a child of her own. But then, if anyone could make you feel like a little kid, it would be your parents. As the door closes and locks behind her, Tonks mulls over just how she’s going to start this conversation.
 
“I presume this is about Harry?”
 
Well, that works. If her mother wants to get things going…
 
“Yes, it is. I think I deserve answers, mother. This is… honestly, it’s ridiculous that you even showed up in Harry’s quarters to stop me in the first place! And via a secret passage of all things!”
 
Rather than respond to Tonks’ berating, Andromeda walks over to a cabinet and pulls out two glasses and a bottle of firewhisky. Tonks’ eyebrows raise at that, more than a little surprised. Funnily enough… she’s never drank with her mother before. This is a little different, to be sure, and she finds herself walking forward a bit more slowly as Andromeda pours them both a couple of fingers of the magical liquor before handing one of the glasses to her daughter.
 
“I’d do it again too, I’m afraid. I know you might not understand this, Tonks… but it’s for your own good that you don’t get too close to Harry. It’s for both of your own goods, in fact.”
 
Knocking back her own glass of firewhisky, the Hogwarts Headmistress coughs a bit before sighing. Tonks takes a sip from her glass, managing to contain her reaction as it burns all the way through her. While she’s busy formulating a response, her mother is busy pouring herself another glass.
 
“I suppose that has something to do with Yennefer and the Lodge of Sorceresses, doesn’t it? Them and whatever their purpose for being at Hogwarts is this year.”
 
Tonks catches her mother in the midst of tipping her glass back for another drink, only for Andromeda to sputter and have to lower the glass, her head whipping around to stare at her daughter, wide-eyed. Tonks just raises an eyebrow in response, watching as Andromeda’s shoulders ultimately slump and she places a hand upon her forehead, letting out a put upon sigh.
 
As her mother collects her thoughts, Tonks gives her the chance to response, sipping more of the firewhisky down and enjoying the burn for what it is. Sure, she hadn’t come here planning on getting drunk, but… well, it felt like this might be a conversation for it.
 
“I won’t bother asking how you came to that conclusion… no, it would be rather obvious at this point, wouldn’t it? Tch, I exposed you to far too much of that stuff in your youth. Though I wonder, why do you mention Yennefer in particular?”
 
Shrugging, Tonks tips back her glass and swallows the rest of the firewhisky in it. Not enough to make her cough and hack, but certainly enough to burn even harder as she puts the glass down, noting how her mother immediately refills it for her.
 
“Because… I went to speak with our venerable Potions Mistress today. About you… and how to get around you to get to Harry.”
 
Andromeda goes absolutely still at that, and Tonks hurriedly continues explaining herself.
 
“I decided not to make a deal with her. Not before talking to you, at least.”
 
Her mother relaxes marginally at hearing that, before letting out a slightly unladylike snort as she raises an eyebrow in Tonks’ direction.
 
“Oh? Going to go back to her if you don’t like what I have to say, Nym?”
 
Crossing her arms over her chest, thrusting out her chin and firming up her jaw, Tonks refuses to back down.
 
“Perhaps. But I’d prefer we talk things out instead, rather than you forcing my hand.”
 
Quiet for a moment, Andromeda eventually chuckles and shakes her head.
 
“Of course. Because it all comes back to me, doesn’t it? Forcing everyone’s hands, one way or another…”
 
She’s rarely seen her mother so… melancholic or melodramatic. Frowning, brow furrowed, Tonks takes another sip of her firewhisky and also a step forward, instinctively wanting to offer some comfort to Andromeda.
 
“Mother… what is going on? You’ve always had your secrets, but it feels like that’s all coming to a head. You need to let someone in… and who better than your own daughter? Tell me something, tell me what I need to know. Is it about the Lodge? Is it about Harry? Is he in danger?”
 
Sighing, Andromeda moves over to a nearby couch and sits down.
 
“Not… not quite. The immediate danger is minimal. The danger facing Harry is one of… slow corruption. The Lodge doesn’t want to hurt him, Nym. They want to USE him; they want to CONTROL him.”
 
Both eyebrows raised now, Tonks moves and sits next to her mother, mouth opening and closing a couple times as she takes this in, as she processes what Andromeda is saying. It’s a hard potion to swallow however, and in the end, she’s forced to ask for clarification.
 
“I’m sorry… what?”
 
“… A long time ago, as you well know, the Lodge of Sorceresses got me out of a tough jam. Yennefer was my direct contact with them, and you of course got to know her the best as a result. But basically, I ended up owing them all quite a lot. And for a long time, it didn’t really matter… I was a junior member of the Lodge as a matter of course, I paid my dues, and that was that.”
 
Shaking her head, Andromeda gets a far away look in her eye.
 
“Power of the likes that Harry can call upon… it comes along rather rarely, Nym. There have been incredibly powerful, incredibly influential Wizards over the millennia. Merlin, for one… Nicholas Flamel for another. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. More recently… Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter.”
 
Drinking more firewhisky, Andromeda shrugs.
 
“From what I understand, the Lodge has a long history of… supporting these powerhouses, and in turn getting their own agendas taken care of in turn. Unfortunately, they picked the wrong horse to back almost a century ago. They sided with Grindelwald instead of Dumbledore and have been paying for it, picking up the pieces, ever since.”
 
Chuckling, Andromeda gives her daughter a look.
 
“With a healthy respect for Albus’ power, they kept their machinations out of British Affairs all this time, even avoiding offering Lord Voldemort their support. Of course, it’s possible they just understood what a crazy lunatic Riddle was, but all the same, they stayed away… because of Dumbledore. And then he went and died, and not only that, but Harry also managed to take care of Voldemort for good a year later.”
 
Tonks was starting to get an idea of where this was going. She was her mother’s daughter after all, and not an unintelligent woman in her own right. Still, she stays quiet, nursing her glass of firewhisky as her mother continues on with her story.
 
“The Lodge of Sorceresses saw their opportunity and took it. I am… overjoyed to be Headmistress of Hogwarts, don’t get me wrong. It’s a dream come true. However, I am only Hogwarts Headmistress because they made it happen. In exchange, it was considered my duty to get as many of them into faculty positions as possible. Just…”
 
Here, Andromeda leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
 
“I don’t want to give them Harry. I don’t want to see them put their hooks in the godfather to my grandson or turn him into their puppet. I just… I don’t want them to succeed. I might not understand their grander plans, but I believe I know enough to know I don’t want Harry in their clutches. And so, I worked to counterbalance them in the shadows through proxies as much as possible. Tis why the entire school faculty has not been replaced by Lodge members and only Lodge members.”
 
Tonks can’t help but stare at her mother, mouth slightly agape. It was a bit much, learning that there was a conspiracy at foot in the school she’d grown up in, that she’d attended for seven years. At the same time…
 
“… You’re an idiot, mother.”
 
Andromeda rears back as if struck, her slightly red and flushed face from the firewhisky contorting in hurt and then anger. But Tonks just holds up a hand, cutting her off.
 
“You’re not an idiot for trying to protect Harry. You’ve done the right thing. But you are an idiot for trying to do it all alone.”
 
Her face scrunching up, the Hogwarts Headmistress grimaces.
 
“What, you think I should have brought you in earlier or something?”
 
“YES!”
 
Tonks’ exasperated tone draws a scoff from Andromeda, who shakes her head.
 
“I was trying to protect you, daughter o’ mine! I was trying to keep you out of this mess, like I successfully have all your life!”
 
“I’m not a child anymore, mother! I’ll make my own mistakes! I’d prefer to make informed ones though, and if not for second guessing myself, I’d probably be doing Yennefer’s bidding right now because you didn’t tell me anything!”
 
That shuts Andromeda up, causing her shoulders to slump and her head to hang. In her mother’s moment of seeming weakness and contriteness, Tonks pushes for a little more.
 
“We need to tell Harry.”
 
That gets another scoff from Andromeda of course, who waves a hand dismissively at the idea.
 
“No. I’ve already tested the young man. As much as I care for Harry, he is… easily led around by his dick. Too easily. Given his age, it’s to be expected, but what good will telling him do? He’ll run right into their trap, end up under their control all the easier…”
 
Mouth agape, Tonks shakes her head.
 
“No, mother! That thinking is what got you into this situation in the first place! Keeping secrets, especially from Harry, will only do more harm than good at this point! The only way the Lodge is going to sink their claws into him is if he’s left in the dark! He needs to be able to make an informed decision!”
 
Looking conflicted and unsure of herself, Andromeda just whimpers.
 
“But… but what if it’s the wrong one?”
 
Straightening her back, even as she feels the effects of the firewhisky as well, Tonks nevertheless holds her head high.
 
“Then that’s his wrong decision to make, mother.”
 
Finally, the fight seems to go out of Andromeda entirely. Shaking her head, the older witch sighs.
 
“… Very well. How should we go about this? Should it be me? You? Us together? How do we even begin telling Harry all of this?”
 
Biting her lower lip, Tonks finds herself contemplating the question for longer than she would have thought. On the one hand, she was desperate for some alone time with Harry. On the other, this was bigger than her libido and sexual urges, right? Andromeda knew more than her about all of this… but she was loathe to once again leave the two of them alone together…

Chapter 15: The Truth

After a long moment of thought, Tonks reaches out and takes her mother’s hand in her own, giving it a comforting squeeze and smiling at the older witch.
 
“… Together, mother. We’ll go to him together.”
 
Biting her lower lip, looking much more unsure of herself than a Headmistress of Hogwarts should, Andromeda lets out an explosive sigh and just nods.
 
“A-Alright then. Together.”
 
With that said, the two of them stand up in unison, neither looking entirely confident in what they’re about to do… but also knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it must be done. Straightening her shoulders, Andromeda Tonks presses her lips together in a thin line and leads Tonks over to a nearby cabinet. A cabinet that she proceeds to open up to reveal that it has a false back, allowing her and her daughter to access the same back passage that allowed Andromeda to walk in on Harry and Tonks weeks before.
 
Tonks tries not to let that get to her, she tries to let it wash off her back. After all, it was supposed to be water under the bridge now. She and her mom had talked, and had come to an understanding. Keeping that in mind, Tonks follows Andromeda into the dimly lit passageway, the two witches making their way to their ultimate destination with a nervous sort of haste.
 
-x-X-x-
 
He’s not expecting a knock at his door that night, which means he’s certainly not expecting a knock from his wardrobe. Startling, realizing that there’s someone on the other side of the secret entrance the Headmistress had used to enter his quarters some time ago, Harry walks over and opens the wardrobe, eyebrow raised in slight incredulity.
 
“Yes?”
 
“… May we come in?”
 
Recognizing Andromeda’s voice, Harry just chuckles.
 
“Certainly.”
 
Stepping back, he watches with keen interest as Andromeda Tonks steps out of the wardrobe and into his quarters. But not just her this time… her daughter follows her. Happy to see the mother-daughter pair apparently on speaking terms, if their mutual skulking is any indication, Harry gives them both a broad smile.
 
“Andromeda, Nymphadora. Good to see you both tonight.”
 
When they don’t quite meet his eyes, both of them averting their gazes and fidgeting under his own, Harry raises his brow and takes another step away.
 
“Or should I say Headmistress and Caretaker Tonks? Is this a social call, or a professional visit?”
 
In the end, it’s Tonks who speaks up, not her mother.
 
“Call it both, Harry. At least for me. As you well know, I’ve been waiting to pay you a social call for quite some time. As we all well know, my mother has sought to stymy and stop me at every turn.”
 
Far from standing up for herself, Andromeda flinches and continues to look anywhere but at her daughter or at him. Curiouser and curiouser. Frowning slightly, Harry gestures for Tonks to continue.
 
“A little earlier, I confronted my mother about all of this, and the two of us finally had a long overdue chat. A chat that’s made it clear to me that, while I don’t necessarily agree with all of my mother’s actions… I understand them a bit better now, at the very least.”
 
This was all sounding very serious. Moving over to the little lounge area within his quarters, complete with a pair of couches and a small coffee table, Harry sits down on one of the couches and gestures to the other. It’s not lost on him how similar the moment is to when Andromeda had first come to convince him to take up the position of DADA Professor.
 
“Please, have a seat.”
 
The Tonks women both sit down, with the younger giving a pointed look to the older.
 
“Mother… it’s time to tell your story to Harry. Everything you told me and anything you left out concerning him. You know he has a right to know.”
 
With a sigh, Andromeda nods, drawing Harry’s gaze to her as his brow furrows at the strange dynamic. Exactly what does the older woman have to say that has Tonks treating her like a disobedient schoolgirl?
 
And then the words start spilling from Andromeda’s mouth and they don’t stop. More than once, Harry considers asking a question… but truth be told, he’s just a little too taken off guard to do so. Instead, he listens. He listens as Andromeda outlines everything she knows about not just the Lodge of Sorceresses and the witches they’ve managed to implant in Hogwarts, but also the native witches and the witches from overseas that she managed to bring on board as well as a counterbalance.
 
From the sound of things, Andromeda might be the Lodge’s pawn, but she was far from their ally. While the fact that it all comes from her own lips makes it potentially suspect, it at least sounds like she’s done all she can within the confines of her agreement with this… Lodge. At least, Tonks seems to think so, as she nods along with Andromeda’s story, giving her mother more support than Harry would have expected in the process.
 
Harry, meanwhile, is beating himself up for his lack of observational skills. He’d allowed himself to get completely caught up in… well, in his own personal shit. He’d vaguely noticed just how much Hogwarts’ Faculty had warped and changed in the time since he’d been a student. In all fairness, Hogwarts had gone through a VERY intense upheaval over the last few years, starting with the death of Dumbledore and culminating in the Battle of Hogwarts itself, in which Voldemort had finally been defeated.
 
In the aftermath, Harry had figured that many of the old guard might have just wanted to retire… those that were left alive anyways.
 
Now though, he was left wondering how many of his old Professors were forced out to make room for this new cohort. Would Minerva McGonagall have been Headmistress of Hogwarts if not for the Lodge stepping in to make sure Andromeda got the role instead? Would he have been tapped for DADA Professor, if not for the Lodge’s machinations?
 
Back ramrod straight, shifting in his seat, Harry frowns deeply as he regards a fidgety Andromeda. Her story finished, the older witch is now waiting for him to condemn her, to judge her most harshly for her actions. She has, after all, no matter what countermeasures she’s taken, set him up to be manipulated and possibly collared by these Lodge Sorceresses.
 
And yet… and yet, call it what you will. Harry just has a soft spot for her. He finds it easier to forgive her, even knowing what she’s done. Hey, silver lining, it’s sort of nice to be so universally wanted, he supposes…
 
“I forgive you, Andromeda. Keeping me in the dark this long… it’s not exactly what I would have preferred, but you had your reasons. The fact that you listened to your daughter and let her convince you to come to me after all, even if it’s rather belated… it counts for a lot.”
 
Her shoulders sagging, the Hogwarts Headmistress mumbles her thanks under her breath. Harry just waves her off, looking between the two Tonks women for a long moment.
 
“So then, how do we fight back? Where do we even begin unraveling the Lodge’s machinations?”
 
Tonks starts to nod, the younger of the two witches clearly in agreement with his immediate impulse, only for Andromeda to shake her head wildly.
 
“N-No! You don’t! There isn’t… this isn’t a clear cut case of Good and Evil, Harry. This isn’t like the Dark Lord, where it was you or him. The Lodge of Sorceresses have been playing this game a long, LONG time. All you can really do is stay on the defense. At least now that you’re aware of what they’re planning, you can protect against it better. Just… just don’t give into their advances. Keep them all at arm’s length, let the rest of the year play out, and then you’ll have no reason to stick around. You can graduate and retire at the same time, and go do whatever you want with your life!”
 
“… Fuck that.”
 
To Harry’s mild surprise, it’s not him who speaks those words, even if they resonate deep in his soul. Instead, it’s Nymphadora Tonks, fierce and loyal as ever, who bites out the two word response to her mother’s long monologue. Taken aback, Andromeda just blinks owlishly as her daughter growls.
 
“We didn’t tell Harry all of this just to tell him to sit tight and wait the rest of the year out, mother. There must be something we can do, some way that we can turn their game back on them. You said they would corrupt him slowly, that their goal would be incremental control. Well, that sounds like we have all the time in the world to corrupt THEM and their little organization from within instead!”
 
Looking rather faint, Andromeda continues to shake her head in the negative.
 
“You can’t… you can’t just expect to take on these witches in their own arena and come out on top, Nymphadora. Certainly, the Lodge is not a monolith… there is minor infighting and squabbles between witches with differing goals at every single level. But they are an old organization for a reason. They come together against outsiders, against enemies. Taking any one of them on is just asking for them to close ranks, forcing you to take them all on.”
 
Despite her inability to see a way of fighting the Lodge… Andromeda’s words nevertheless give Harry plenty of ideas. Leaning forward, he presses his lips tightly together.
 
“What do you mean by infighting? What sort of squabbles do they have? And differing goals… that sounds like our way in. We just have to figure out what they each want and use that to pry them away from the whole. If we can give some of the more reasonable ones a reason to come on side, then the others will be severely weakened, right?”
 
Staring at him blankly, Andromeda looks a little baffled, for a moment. It’s almost like she didn’t think he had a political bone in his body. Truth was… Harry had been reading up. He’d been studying what made people tick. After what had happened with Voldemort not once, but twice, the young man had come to wonder just how the Dark Lord had managed two separate rises. If it wasn’t for Harry fucking Potter, Tom Riddle would have taken over the entire British Wizarding World not once but two times. Both times, it was ONLY Harry who had truly been able to stand up to him for some reason.
 
That had weighed on the young wizard’s mind more than he cared to admit. So yes, he’d been dabbling in politics and the human condition, reading a book here and there to try and better understand. It was easy to just say things like ‘The Wizarding World is full of idiots’, but another entirely to understand not only WHY it was full of idiots, but how those idiots thought and operated.
 
After all, unless Harry wanted to leave magic behind entirely and go live as a muggle for the rest of his life, he HAD to learn how to work with and work around all of the idiots he found himself surrounded by on a regular basis.
 
“Well? Andromeda, you know the most about the Lodge and its members. It has to have a few weak links, right?”
 
“… C-Certainly. I’m one of them, I suppose. And the others… there ARE others. Merlin, even at the top, there is a power struggle. Philippa, the new Transfiguration Professor, is technically the leader of the Lodge. However, Yennefer, our new Potions Professor, holds comparable power within the organization. The two of them do not always agree all the time… but they are much more likely to set aside their differences than allow their alliance to be torn apart by a young man’s wants and desires, Harry.”
 
Nodding, assimilating that information, Harry nevertheless forges onwards.
 
“So then we don’t start with them, obviously. But what about the others? What about the ones at the very bottom of the ladder? Did any of them come to Hogwarts? Are any weak links within these walls for us to try and manipulate?”
 
Just from the considering look on Andromeda’s face as she thinks about it, Harry knows there are. But after a moment, she frowns slightly, clutching at her knees.
 
“… There is a chance, albeit a very slim one, that your plan might work. However… I would need to have some assurances that you could handle the trials ahead.”
 
“Assurances?”
 
“Mother?”
 
Harry and Tonks both speak up in matching confused voices at the same time, even as Andromeda stands… and vanishes away her clothing. With a flick of her wand, she does the same to Tonks, leaving both mother and daughter before him naked, one standing and one sitting… though that doesn’t last long as Tonks yelps and jumps to her feet, before blushing and even smiling at the sudden realization of who she’s naked in front of.
 
Harry, meanwhile, is having a hard time not staring at the two beautiful witches. He’s seen them both naked before at this point to be fair, but not in this context… not in this fashion.
 
“If… if we’re going to go through with this, then I must demand that you show us the true nature of your will, Harry. If you can’t resist the temptation that our bodies offer, then you will be ill-equipped to resist the temptation of even the lowliest witch within the Lodge of Sorceresses, let alone the real powerhouses at the top.”
 
Tonks’ smile falls as she processes her mother’s words and realizes what she’s saying.
 
“Wait, you want us to tease Harry while he holds back and… doesn’t fuck us?!”
 
The high-pitched tone in her voice gives Tonks’ feelings on the matter away quite nicely, even as Andromeda glances over at her daughter drily.
 
“This is more important than your overflowing libido, Nymphadora. If Professor Potter can’t keep his hands off of just the two of us, then he’ll be eaten alive by the others.”
 
And then, putting her money where her mouth is, Andromeda saunters forward. She leans over him, planting her hands on either side of his head and all but daring him with her eyes to reach out and touch her. Harry doesn’t, of course, but as she begins to tease him and Nymphadora joins in with a pained, needy look on her face, he can’t help but feel like this is… counterproductive.
 
Certainly, he could hold himself back. He could likely succeed in not touching either woman for however long until Andromeda deemed him ‘good enough’. He could also take her up on her original offer if he didn’t think he could succeed, and just play defense for the rest of the year. Now that he was aware of the Lodge’s true goals and machinations, it should be easy to avoid getting caught up in their webs, right? He’d be done at Hogwarts with the year’s end, and everything would be fine.
 
Or… he could do what he’s always done. He could take the road less traveled, the third option that no one ever seems to expect from him. He could turn this all on its head and show Andromeda she didn’t have to worry about him in an entirely different way. Tonks… Tonks would probably even help.

Chapter 16: Andromeda & Nymphadora

Harry doesn’t say anything at first, and Andromeda seems to take that for both agreement and defiance. A slight smirk spreads across the older witch’s lips, even as Hogwarts’ Headmistress shakes her tits right in front of his face like… like some common hoe. Certainly, Andromeda Tonks is by no means showing her true age right now.
 
Not only does she look more like Nymphadora’s big sister rather than her mother, but she’s also acting like it too, acting like some floozy coed slut as she finishes shaking her breasts in front of him and turns around, settling her ass into his lap next. She’s giving him a lap dance; Harry realizes after a moment. She’s giving him an honest to god lap dance.
 
… Looking over Andromeda’s shoulder, Harry meets Tonks’ eyes. The younger witch is still standing there, completely naked as well, watching the scene with wide eyes and biting her lower lip. It’s clear that she doesn’t agree with her mother on this, and so as Harry makes eye contact with the metamorphmagus, he smiles.
 
Tonks jolts at that smile, eyes widening even further as he gives her a little nod. Something that not many people knew about him was the fact that Harry was something of a natural Legilimens. Or rather, an unnatural Legilimens. His ‘psychic’ abilities, if you will, were a result of the connection he’d once shared with Voldemort, and the damage that the Dark Lord had done to his mind in the process. Snape’s disastrous attempts to teach Harry Occlumency probably hadn’t helped either.
 
Regardless, Harry is able to reach out and push… not quite words onto Nymphadora Tonks’ mind, but his intentions. It allows for him to silently communicate with her via just his eyes, even as Andromeda’s breathing grows just a little bit uneven. Suddenly spinning around again, the Hogwarts Headmistress reaches down and grabs him by the crotch.
 
“What’s this, Harry? Already getting hard, I see. How much longer before you lose all control and have your way with me and my daughter, hm?”
 
Its clear from Andromeda’s provocative but also breathy tone of voice that she wants it to happen. And not just to prove she’s right, but because she wants him to fuck her again. She wants him to savage both her and Nymphadora. Meanwhile, Nymphadora Tonks wants it just as much if not MORE than her mother.
 
Still, Harry thrusts out his chin, squaring his jaw as he looks Andromeda in the eye.
 
“A simple biological reaction, Andromeda. One I would think you would hesitate to call out, given how wet you are.”
 
His caustic response clearly takes the older witch off guard for a moment. Taken aback, Andromeda blinks, before frowning slightly.
 
“… We’ll see.”
 
She continues to feel him up with her hand, while still holding her wand in the other. The naked witch seems intent on making him lose control… so, Harry decides then and there, why not give her what she wants?
 
“You know, Andromeda. Nothing is as black and white as you want to make it. And one would think, after how badly your plans have gone so far, that you’d realize your thinking is too narrow minded here and now as well.”
 
Pausing, the Headmistress narrows her eyes at Harry, before pushing her tits into his face again.
 
“And what’s that supposed to mean, Harry?”
 
“It means, Andromeda, that there’s a third option staring you right in the face. One that your fear of the Lodge has blinded you to. We fight back.”
 
Andromeda tenses up, clearly expecting Harry to make his move then and there. The Hogwarts Headmistress is no one’s fool, after all. But that’s the beauty of it… Harry doesn’t have to do anything at all.
 
“Expelliarmus!”
 
Nymphadora Tonks’ disarming charm sends Andromeda’s wand flying out of the older witch’s hand and into Nymphadora’s waiting palm. Shocked, Andromeda whips around to stare her daughter in the eye, completely caught off guard by the betrayal. In fairness, Nymphadora looks almost as surprised by her own actions as her mother.
 
Perhaps that’s why Andromeda thinks she can try to take her wand, the representation of her power and control over this situation, back so easily. She reaches out and Harry feels her trying to use her wandless magic to telekinetically snatch her wand back from Nymphadora’s loose grip.
 
That, of course, is when Harry finally strikes, his hands grabbing Andromeda by the wrists and his own magic pushing up and out of him, snuffing Andromeda’s magic before it can go anywhere. In a wandless battle of magical might, the stronger magical creature will always come out on top. Harry has been… relatively passive in a lot of his interactions with Andromeda Tonks since she asked him to be Hogwarts’ DADA Professor, but that’s never meant he was weak.
 
In fact, there’s a reason the Lodge of Sorceresses wants him, a reason that Andromeda herself outlined. Harry can see this realization flicker through the older witch’s wide eyes as he spins them both around and pins her to couch, he was previously sat upon. Then he goes a step further, winding his magic along Andromeda’s limbs, binding her down to the cushioned seat, forcing her arms and legs to spread eagle as he ties her wrists and ankles to the back and the legs of the couch respectively.
 
“W-What… what is the meaning of this?!”
 
Ignoring her momentarily, Harry moves to Tonks and carefully pulls BOTH wands from her hands, her mother’s and her own. She watches him, seeming somewhat unsure… but nevertheless blushes and smiles when he presses a chaste kiss into her cheek. Walking over to a nearby magical safe, Harry deposits all three of their wands inside of it, locking the safe behind him before finally turning to address Andromeda properly.
 
“This, Headmistress, is your arrogance coming home to roost.”
 
Andromeda bristles but can no more fight his bindings then she could his magic. She’s overwhelmed and helpless and can’t even try to call her wand to her hand to free herself with it locked behind the magical wards of the safe. Giving her a smirk, Harry moves over to where Nymphadora stands, moving in behind her and pulling her naked body back against his chest as he runs his hands up and down her form.
 
“This is how we beat them, Andromeda. One weak link at a time. You came here with every intention of continuing to try and control me, despite telling your daughter you had realized how foolish you were being. You think, right now, that she’s betrayed you… but isn’t it you who betrayed her again first?”
 
Andromeda stiffens at that, even as Harry lays kisses down Nymphadora’s neck, smiling all the while. Shuddering, Nymphadora hesitantly nods.
 
“H-He’s right, mother… you’ve done nothing to prove yourself worthy of m-my loyalty…”
 
Gritting her teeth, struggling against her bindings, Andromeda… goes slack after a moment, looking somewhat defeated.
 
“… Fine. What do you suggest instead?”
 
Smiling, Harry guides one of Tonks’ hands back behind her, to his crotch. Feeling his bulge, the metamorphmagus reaches back properly and undoes his trousers, pulling his cock out and letting out a gasp as she finally lays her hands on his dick once more. As she strokes him, he continues to molest her from behind, feeling up one of her breasts while running two fingers along her slit and toying with her clit.
 
“The Lodge of Sorceresses wants to control me through my impulses, through my emotions and my instincts. But if I’m suddenly completely closed off to any such overtures, they will realize you’ve betrayed them to me, and likely change their plans. They will become unpredictable, and we can’t have that, can we?”
 
Its clear from the look on Andromeda’s face that she hadn’t thought about it like that. Meanwhile, Nymphadora has stroked his cock all the way to full hardness and is mewling as he slides his digits in and out of her sopping wet pussy. The metamorphmagus has been waiting for this moment for quite some time, after all.
 
“Instead, we give them precisely what they expect. But rather than letting them use it all against me as a weakness, we turn it into a strength. I can do an awful lot with these magic hands of mine, Andromeda. I’ve been learning just what I’m capable of, since I came to Hogwarts. Shall I show you, using your daughter’s body?”
 
Sliding his hands down to Tonks’ hips, he suddenly bends the beautiful witch forward in her bound and tied down mother’s direction. His cock falls out of her hands as it goes to her slit, and a moment later he’s thrusting forward, positively burying himself in Tonks’ MILF pussy. There’s a small twinge of regret towards the dearly departed Lupin, but he likes to imagine Remus would want Tonks to be happy… and judging by the loud, wanton cry that leaves her lips as he spears into her, Tonks is very happy to finally be impaled on his cock indeed.
 
Andromeda can only watch as Harry grabs Tonks by the wrists, pulling her arms back behind her and fucking into her hard and fast as her spine arches beautifully. As he fucks her, he also takes steps forward, forcing Tonks forward as well, closing the distance between them and Andromeda quite rapidly.
 
For a long moment, Andromeda is left staring into her daughter’s eyes as Harry fucks Nymphadora from behind. She’s left to watch her daughter’s ecstasy, as the very thing she’d sought to prevent by constantly cockblocking Tonks all these months, takes place anyways.
 
Because Harry is staring directly at Andromeda as he pounds into Tonks from behind, Nym’s squealing filling his quarters and her pussy walls clenching down around his cock quite vigorously as she cums for him again and again… he gets to see the exact moment he makes a believer out of the Hogwarts Headmistress.
 
There’s a beat where the fight just goes out of her, and she seems to actually realize… that yes, he can do this. He can make it work. He can potentially beat the Lodge at their own game, without compromising himself in the process. A shudder runs through Andromeda’s body, and she licks her lips for a moment before finally tearing her gaze away from her daughter’s face to look at him.
 
“W-Where do we start?”
 
He’s happy that she saw sense so easily, because Harry had been about ready to spend the next several hours teasing and edging Andromeda until ultimately, she broke and begged for his domination, begged for his cock. Instead, it looks like he’s already got the Headmistress on board. Which, to be fair, she was always on his side, wasn’t she? The rest of them won’t be quite so easily swayed, Harry imagines…
 
Smirking, he lifts a brow as he continues fucking Nym. After all, plowing Andromeda’s daughter wasn’t just about proving a point to her, it was about finally giving the metamorphmagus what she wanted. As Tonks cries out and climaxes for him again and again, Harry just chuckles.
 
“You tell me, Andromeda. You’re still the greatest source of information we have. The plan hasn’t changed, just the way we go about it. So, where DO we start? Who are the weakest links?”
 
Blinking, as if taken aback that he’s still interested in her opinion at this point, Andromeda frowns for a moment in consideration, actually having to think about it for a few seconds. All the while, Harry continues plowing Nymphadora silly. Her part in this conversation is over, and now she’s finally getting her just desserts… a long, hard dicking by Harry himself.
 
“Well… I suppose, when it comes to the Lodge, Fringilla and Shani are the weakest links. They’re the new Hogwarts Librarian and Hospital Matron respectively, you see. Shani is… well, she’s barely more than a squib, relying upon magical herbs and such to perform her duties where her magic would otherwise fail her. Fringilla on the other hand, is no small power. However, where she excels in magical strength, she fails frequently in politics. Despite having a Duchess for a cousin in one Anna Henrietta, she’s never really managed to successfully throw her weight around in the Lodge.”
 
Chuckling, Andromeda shakes her head.
 
“She’s also no friend of Yennefer’s. They’ve butted heads on multiple occasions, and the only reason Fringilla is still part of the Lodge is that Philippa sees value in keeping her around as a ball and chain around Yennefer’s ankle.”
 
Then, Andromeda pauses for a moment, still in thought. Seeing this, Harry doesn’t speak up quite yet, letting the older witch gather her thoughts a bit more first.
 
“… However, nothing says you have to start with the lodge. There are currently three factions in Hogwarts. I managed to bring in Americans from overseas, as well as some locals. To off-set the Lodge’s influence, you see. Otherwise, I might as well have handed Philippa the keys to the castle. You could try and suss out what the Americans want first… or even shore up your power base by getting the local witches alongside instead. It might be good to have a unified force, when you finally start going after the Lodge…”
 
Hm, that was a good point. Slowing his thrusts for a second, Harry cocks his head to the side.
 
“Who would you suggest starting with of each of THOSE factions?”
 
“W-Well… of the Americans, I would say Zatanna Zatara, the new Arithmancy Professor, and her Assistant Professor Raven would be the best to start with. And as for our local witches… your former teammates on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team are now in charge of teaching Flying. Angelina Johnson is the Instructor, while Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell are her Assistants…”
 
Truly? Jeez, Andromeda really had gone all out behind the backs of her benefactors in order to make their lives as difficult as possible, hadn’t she? Harry didn’t know much about these American Witches or what they were about, but the effort Andromeda had put into making sure he would have allies, like Gryffindor’s Flying Vixens… it did the heart good.
 
Gracing the Hogwarts Headmistress with a grateful smile… Harry proceeds to creampie her daughter right before her eyes, thrusting into Tonks one final time before filling her with his seed as she squeals and shakes, spasming and cumming her brains out as Andromeda watches on, blushing.
 
Pushing Tonks forward, she ends up landing upon her bound mother, the insensate metamorphmagus moaning as she cuddles against the older witch, much to Andromeda’s embarrassment and mortification. Harry, meanwhile, considers the matter carefully. He had three routes in front of him. Get a start on the Lodge of Sorceresses right away and go for either Shani or Fringilla. Or see about bringing the Americans on board, starting with Zatanna and Raven. Or shore up the local powerbase and see about showing Angelina, Alicia, and Katie a REALLY good time.
 
One way or another, Harry knew there was no going back. Knowing the things he knew now; he was drawing a line in the sand. He would be no one’s puppet. Not any longer.

Chapter 17: Zatanna Zatara

“Professor Potter.”
 
“Professor Zatara, thank you for accepting my invitation.”
 
“But of course, I would have been a fool not to.”
 
As they sit across his desk from one another in Harry’s office, he can’t help but assess the American Witch sat across from him. Zatanna Zatara, straight from the States. Or rather, the magical side of the States. The Magical Congress of the United States of America, otherwise known as MACUSA. A bit of a mouthful, but then, over here in Britain, they called their governing body the ‘Wizengamot’ of all things, so Harry wasn’t sure he had any room to remark.
 
Zatanna, of course, was a fully trained American Witch, straight from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry located on Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. More importantly, however, she and her other American colleagues were members of the Salem Witches’ Institute. A mixture of a higher place of learning for adult witches, and an organization that championed witches’ rights, it had been around since the time of the Salem Witch Trials… in fact, it had been created specifically as a counterbalance to that most heinous state of affairs.
 
Zatanna herself was beautiful, of course… one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen if Harry was being honest. Whether it was through beauty charms or a natural sort of beauty, he couldn’t say, but from her flowing black locks to her pretty eyes and her high cheekbones and full lips, Zatanna Zatara certainly had that look about her.
 
Of course, she also didn’t look entirely comfortable in her current wizarding robes. He wasn’t sure how they did it over in America, but it was obvious, at least to Harry’s eyes, that the Arithmancy Professor was trying to do her best to fit in… and not enjoying it one bit. Cocking his head to the side, he gestures to her magnanimously.
 
“There are no students around, Professor. If you wanted to get more comfortable, I would not mind.”
 
And then, to prove his point, Harry stands up and turns his wand on himself, vanishing the robes of his station and leaving just his shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans on underneath. Zatanna startles at the sudden dressing down, but then smiles warmly as she rises and takes out her own wand to do the same. Interestingly enough, her wand is like nothing he’s ever seen before. Long and glistening black, with a white tip to it. Did American Wizards and Witches have different wandmaking techniques? Or was it a personal style choice on Zatanna’s part?
 
As she moves her wand over herself, transfiguring her Professor’s Robes into something more her speed, Harry kills time by tapping his wand on the desk in front of him, sending a flash of intent over to the Hogwarts Kitchens. In an instant, a House Elf pops up at the side of the table, a steeping tea kettle in their hands as they set it down. Another House Elf appears as well, putting two teacups on either side of the kettle, directly in front of Harry and Zatanna. Both then bow to him in particular, before disappearing again.
 
When Harry looks over to Zatanna, its to find that she’s frozen for a second at the sight of the elves. Her mild surprise is appreciated because it gives him a chance to cover up his own shock at what she’s now wearing. The tuxedo jacket and white blouse are distinctly mannish in appearance… and yet, completely offset by the low-cut black leotard, fishnet stockings, and thigh high boots that encompass her lower half.
 
Even if Harry manages to recover from his surprise at around the same time that Zatanna is recovering from hers, it would be disingenuous… noticeably so, to not actually say anything. And so, when they next make eye contact, Harry raises an eyebrow and gestures to her entire ensemble as they both retake their seats.
 
“That is… certainly the get-up, Professor.”
 
Smiling a carefree smile, Zatanna sits down, and crosses one fishnet covered leg over the other, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. For a moment, she almost seems incomplete, and Harry feels like he can just imagine the top hat that should be perched atop her head to finish the ensemble. But no, she’s got nothing in the way of headwear as she lets out a breathy little chuckle.
 
“Expectations being what they are in a place with as much history as Hogwarts, I truly haven’t been able to let my hair down since arriving, Professor Potter. You have my thanks.”
 
Seeing an opportunity, Harry inclines his head while also leaning forward to serve her tea.
 
“Of course. And please, call me Harry. How do you prefer your tea?”
 
“Honey, please. And only if you call me Zatanna.”
 
As he adds the honey to Zatanna’s freshly poured teacup, before pouring his own tea, Harry chuckles. Leaning back in his chair, teacup and saucer in hands, he takes a sip before giving the gorgeous American woman a broad smile.
 
“But of course, Zatanna. Honestly, I don’t know why we didn’t do this earlier.”
 
“Because your Headmistress wanted us Americans as a stopgap measure but wasn’t willing to let us actually get close to you.”
 
Zatanna Zatara’s matter-of-fact admission comes completely out of left field, even as it’s delivered in that same cheery, altogether friendly voice that she’s used so far. Harry avoids spraying his tea everywhere, but it’s a nearer thing then he would prefer, even as he leans back in his chair even further and gives the Arithmancy Professor a long, measured look. Zatanna’s eyes twinkle as she gazes right back at him, the older (but not too much older) witch smirking slightly.
 
“Ah, sorry, did I say the quiet part out loud? I’ve been told I have a bad habit of doing so. Speaking my mind and what not. It’s an American thing.”
 
Leaning forward and placing her cup of tea and saucer back down on the table, Zatanna looks Harry dead in the eye.
 
“I do have to wonder what’s changed though. I’m well aware that the Headmistress has been struggling to maintain the barrier between you and the rest of the faculty in the manner she wanted… what she was attempting was never going to last forever, and not even in the long term. But I will say, I was a little surprised when I received your invitation, Harry.”
 
Considering for a moment how to respond, Harry finally just shrugs.
 
“As soon as I was aware of the yoke upon me, I shrugged it off. That is not to say I bear Andromeda any ill will, just to be clear. The grandmother of my godson was just doing what she thought was best for me. But… we’ve reached an understanding. I’ve had enough of both Headmasters and Headmistresses trying to direct and control me to last me a lifetime.”
 
Zatanna listens carefully to what he’s saying, nodding thoughtfully as he explains. When he’s done, she smiles brightly at him, eyes filled with excitement.
 
“So then, you’re taking matters into your own hands now? Not going to let the Headmistress coddle you anymore, but also not going to just let the Lodge have its way with you either?”
 
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Zatanna knew all about the Lodge of Sorceresses. Sure, she was American, and they were European, but just because the MACUSA was younger than the European Wizarding World by several centuries did not mean they were children. Indeed, Zatanna was quick as a whip from what he’d seen so far, and very fast on the uptake. Nodding, Harry sighs.
 
“That’s right. Which is why I asked to meet with you, Zatanna. I hoped to find out exactly what it is the American Contingent at Hogwarts is hoping for from all of this. I know why Andromeda called upon you to take up your positions here in the castle… but I don’t know what you all want from those positions. If its within my power to help you, then I would be interested in a mutually beneficial arrangement of some sort.”
 
When he’d chosen to start with the Americans, and thus reach out to the Arithmancy Professor that now sat across from him, Harry HAD in fact considered taking his plans to their extremes. That is, if he was going to start from the bottom, then really, he should have approached Zatanna’s assistant Raven first, and tried to suborn her.
 
But, while he KNEW that the Lodge was out to get him, to control him, to take away his agency, he had no clue what the Americans wanted. Approaching Raven when he was a Professor, and she was just an Assistant Professor had smacked of an inequal power dynamic. He didn’t want to create enemies where they didn’t already exist.
 
And so here he was, having always intended to have a frank, upfront conversation with Zatanna Zatara. Still, the Arithmancy Professor had surprised him when she’d been the one to confront him instead of the other way around. She definitely didn’t beat around the bush, and he quite liked that about her. He hoped they could get along… in the end, it all came down to what her and the others wanted.
 
“Well, your first mistake is treating us as a monolith, Harry. As I’m sure you already know, not even the Lodge is entirely united in their desires, plans, and goals. Well, neither are we. Mine and Raven’s reasons for being here at Hogwarts are not the same as Pamela and Harleen. Those two… in spite of our shared connection via the Salem Witches’ Institute, we aren’t what I would call friends. Their ultimate goals are not something I can speak to with any true level of expertise, if I’m being honest.”
 
Harry can only concede the point, dipping his head in appreciation of Zatanna’s matter-of-fact tone. It was a sign of how far he still had to go that she had to spell it out for him like that. Of course, the American Contingent wouldn’t be a monolith. He’d been foolish to assume they would be. Still, from the sound of things…
 
“But you and your assistant Raven… you want the same things, is that it?”
 
Zatanna’s answering smile is somewhat coy.
 
“Well done, Harry. Yes, Raven and I are at Hogwarts for the same reasons. Specifically, we’re here for her. Tell me, what do you know about my assistant?”
 
Harry hums at that. He hadn’t gone into this completely blind… but at the same time, there wasn’t as much information as he would have liked. In the end, he decided to be honest.
 
“… Not much, I’ll admit. She’s closer to my age, yes?”
 
“Indeed. As for her tale… it’s a tragic one. Raven is a product of illegal magical experimentation. Her mother, one of the most brilliant witches of her time, made several mistakes in her early adult life. One of these mistakes was to fall in love with a wizard who had already allowed himself to become steeped in the Dark Arts.”
 
The mention of the very thing Harry was teaching defense against causes him to stiffen, even as Zatanna nods with a sad smile.
 
“Raven, through no fault of her own, has long struggled with her magic and her mind. There have been people calling for her death, or if not that, her imprisonment, or if not that, her neutralization, all her life. They want her dead, or they want her locked up, or they want her magic to be stripped away from her, regardless of what that would likely do to her soul and mind.”
 
Zatanna is getting worked up as she goes on, until she forcibly calms herself down, taking a deep breath before continuing.
 
“… Luckily, cooler heads have prevailed. My father, the Headmaster of Ilvermorny for a time, and an influential figure in the MACUSA, was good friends with Raven’s mother. After everything that happened, he practically raised Raven as his own, and to me, she is my little sister regardless of our blood relation.”
 
When Zatanna pauses again, this time she looks like she’s starting to get worked up again, a grimace stretching across her features as her lips purse together.
 
“Unfortunately, my father is no longer around to hold the dogs back. And my own influence is not nearly enough to keep his opponents and Raven’s greatest detractors from baying for her blood. What she needs… what we need, is a cure. A cure that we hoped to find here, in Britain. If not in the Hogwarts Library, than in a Family Library. One such as yours, for instance. Which, with the joining of House Potter and House Black under your name, might just be the greatest library in all of Great Britain, and even the known world.”
 
Oh. Well, when she put it like that… Harry takes a long moment to process everything Zatanna has told him. Pamela Isley and Harleen Quinzel might still be utter unknowns, but he now knows exactly why Zatanna and Raven are here at Hogwarts. Even better, he has the ability to help them, doesn’t he?
 
The only thing is… would giving them access to the Black and Potter Family Libraries really be the smartest thing to do?
 
“I imagine your Headmistress has, in part, been stymying us from petitioning you directly for access to your knowledge because she fears we will find what we need and go home. If it helps, that is neither Raven nor I’s desire at this point in time. America… America will always be my home, but I no longer long to return to it. Raven is all I have left, and I am all she has left as well. Even if we do manage to cure her, going back to America will no doubt bring my father’s enemies down upon our heads regardless.”
 
Leaning forward, Zatanna licks her ruby red lips and gives Harry a determined look.
 
“You are looking for allies. Help us, and we will be those allies. Raven will follow my lead… whatever you require of us, we will do it if you can help me cure her.”
 
Staring across the desk at the American Witch, Harry doesn’t for one second doubt Zatanna Zatara’s earnestness. She means every word of it. She’ll do anything, to help her adopted sister. And Harry was… well, he was the gatekeeper currently standing in the way of the most likely chance for that help to materialize. He couldn’t have asked for a better situation to find himself in. Zatanna and Raven needed him as much, if not more than he needed them.
 
It was also a bit of a wake up call. The combined libraries of House Potter and House Black… hm, just how many of the women in the castle right now were looking for access to the same exact thing? How many in the Lodge wanted access to the knowledge that Harry held the key to? What exactly were they willing to do to him… or even for him, to get it?
 
In Zatanna’s case, Harry didn’t doubt that she was a good woman in a bad situation who cared deeply for her sister. The only question left to ask himself was… how was he going to go about this?
 
He could go for the soft sell, and just accept Zatanna’s offer for an alliance in exchange for access to the combined library of magical knowledge he was now sitting on. But that wouldn’t exactly build the relationship he was hoping to build.
 
He could go for the hard sell, and push for Zatanna to PROVE her loyalty to him. Just based on how relaxed in dress she was willing to get with him, he somehow didn’t think she would mind it too much. He was not a selfish lover by any means.
 
But then, regardless of the soft or hard sell, there was also a question of what degree of help he should give them. Was just access enough? Or should he concentrate his somewhat meager amount of free time on helping them find the cure among the gathered knowledge of his and his godfather’s families?
 
Either way, this was it. No more handholding, no more coddling, no Andromeda to act as a buffer for him anymore. From now on, his decisions were ALL his own, and he was in control of what happened next…

Chapter 18: Zatanna & Raven

Coming to a decision, Harry inclines his head towards the Arithmancy Professor.
 
“You have yourself a deal. A mutually beneficial alliance then. I’ll help you and Raven out, and in turn you’ll help me out.”
 
There’s a brief pause after he speaks, with Zatanna staring at him for a long moment in silence, before cocking her head to the side.
 
“… Is that it?”
 
Harry cocks HIS head to the side in response and lifts an eyebrow for good measure.
 
“Yes…?”
 
Zatanna legitimately looks surprised.
 
“That… that simple? You aren’t going to ask for anything else more specific? Just… just the nebulous concept of mine and Raven’s help in exchange for access to your libraries in search of the cure?”
 
Harry smiles slightly and shakes his head.
 
“Not quite. We’ll all, the three of us, travel to the libraries I have access to together. I’ll be assisting you and your sister in your research personally. After all, if I can’t help you both, well then… I won’t have any right to call upon your assistance going forward, now, will I?”
 
Zatanna blinks, opens and closes her mouth a couple times, and then ultimately slumps back in her chair, looking positively gobsmacked.
 
“You… do realize you have us over a barrel, don’t you?”
 
Harry just raises an eyebrow at that questioningly. Zatanna flushes, and squirms in her seat. Despite being older than him, she’s actually acting quite differently now, in the face of his easy agreement.
 
“I… you could demand practically anything of me. Of both Raven and I, in fact. And… for the slim chance of finding a cure, we would do it, you know? We would do anything.”
 
Chuckling, Harry shakes his head.
 
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. In the upcoming conflict I intend to instigate with the Lodge, I will undoubtedly require your assistance. As for what I’m going to ask of you then, I don’t even know how far I’ll need you to go just yet. So, in that regard, you’re not incorrect.”
 
“But… you could make demands now as well, and force us to do things for you before you even hold up your end of the bargain…”
 
Harry peers at Zatanna from across his desk, blinking owlishly at the American Witch.
 
“Professor Zatara… are you TRYING to get me to take advantage of you?”
 
It’s a legitimate question, at this point. Given his interactions with certain witches since arriving at Hogwarts, he’s actually got to ask. Is this another case similar to Daphne Greengrass, perhaps? But no, Zatanna blushes but also goes wide eyed as she shakes her head back and forth rather… vehemently.
 
“N-No! I… no, apologies Professor Potter. I just… I’m not used to dealing with good men such as yourself. Not in the least.”
 
Well, that was… telling. Harry smiles thinly, shaking his head.
 
“I don’t know anything about that, or if I would even call myself a good man. But… from what you told me, your sister did nothing wrong. She has done absolutely nothing to deserve a life of persecution and discrimination as she’s suffered. It’s wrong, and since I have the ability to help her… I would be a monster not to.”
 
Letting out a shuddering breath, seeming to gaze upon him in a new light, Zatanna abruptly stands and holds out her hand to him.
 
“S-Shall we shake on it, then?”

Standing up, Harry takes her hand and nods as they both pump a couple of times before letting go.
 
“Does this upcoming weekend work for you and Raven to be away from Hogwarts? Admittedly, it will be a bit short notice, but I should be able to get everything done ahead of time anyways. I’m just not sure if your Arithmancy Classes are any more difficult to handle.”
 
Startling all over again, Zatanna just nods with wide eyes.
 
“I… y-yes! Yes, Raven and I will be ready. This… this weekend then…”
 
With that, the American Witch departs, and Harry has to admit, he both hates to see her leave and loves watching her go. Zatanna’s body in that… interesting attire of hers, really gets his blood rushing down to his groin. For a split second, he regrets not going for the Hard Sell. Zatanna would never know it if he could help it, but he HAD briefly considered it.
 
He was still going to help them out personally with their research, to be fair, but Harry wouldn’t deny… he’d been tempted. Still, you caught more flies with honey, or something like that. At the end of the day, Harry wasn’t going to hold a potential cure for Raven’s ailments over her and Zatanna’s head, full stop.
 
That said, if he wanted to secure them as allies in whatever the fuck was going to happen next here at Hogwarts, then Harry would just have to help them out.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“T-Thank you, Professor Potter. This… you are being more than generous, with us.”
 
Raven, the Assistant Professor to Zatanna’s Arithmancy Classes, is certainly a… unique individual. Admittedly, Harry had been a little TOO distracted by his own issues and settling in to teaching DADA over the past few months, because one would think he would have noticed the grey-skinned young woman before now. Though, in all fairness, Raven apparently didn’t take meals at the Staff Table, preferring to keep to herself and avoid being around any grouping of people larger than… well, a classroom’s worth.
 
Still, the gray skin combined with the violet eyes and violet hair… they’re certainly distinctive, inhuman traits. No wonder she’s been persecuted her entire life. Humans were already prone to tribalism as a matter of course, and the Us versus Them mentality was an ingrained part of the human psyche in a big way. Raven though, didn’t even have a tribe. She was a unique existence, a one of a kind woman, and she was just lucky to have Zatanna in her corner, because otherwise she would have likely lived a hunted life or been killed by now.
 
Still, Harry just gives her a smile and bobs his head, as he leads her and Zatanna into the Potter Family Library. While he would eventually want to ACTUALLY combine the libraries of both House Potter and House Black into one place, right now they were still very much separate. And perhaps that was for the best. As much as Harry would always love and appreciate his godfather for all Sirius did for him and left behind for him, the Black Library was… well, dangerous.
 
Unfortunately, that meant the information behind Raven’s condition and a potential cure was actually more likely to be in the Black Family Library then in the Potter one, but… Harry figured it was still better to start here, in the safer repository of knowledge. After all, it wasn’t like House Potter’s Library was completely bereft of dark tomes and forbidden texts. They were just a little less likely to try to bite your head off then the ones in the Black Library.
 
“Of course, Assistant Professor. It’s my pleasure. We may not find what we’re looking for this weekend, but I have high hopes that we’ll eventually locate something regarding your condition.”
 
Raven blushes and glances away, averting her eyes oddly enough. Harry just raises a brow, before she finally mutters something under her breath just loud enough for him to pick it up.
 
“… y-you can call me Raven.”
 
He grins and gives her another nod.
 
“And you can call me Harry.”
 
“And you can both call me Zatanna. Now, if the two of you are done flirting, shall we get to work?”
 
Zatanna’s voice doesn’t quite have the reprimanding tone her words might seem to convey. Instead, she’s got a teasing grin on her face as she plants her hands on her hips. The American Witch is dressed the same as she had in his office earlier that week, and her fishnet stockings are fairly distracting, Harry will admit. That said, dear Raven isn’t much better. While her dark, navy blue cloak is seemingly all encompassing, whenever it opens even a bit, Harry gets a view of the leotard she prefers to wear underneath, which shows off quite a lot of her long grey legs and her thighs.
 
Must be an American thing, or maybe its just a Zatanna and Raven thing. Either way, Harry just chuckles and shakes his head at Zatanna as he pushes open the double doors to the Potter Library and escorts them both inside. He’s not all that put out by her teasing, though he notices Raven’s reaction is much more pronounced, with the witch shrinking in on herself in embarrassment.
 
He supposes it makes sense. He and Raven are the same age, while Zatanna is the older sibling. Still, if she thinks to play matchmaker… well, it’s not that Harry would mind it, but it’s also not really why they’re here, now is it?
 
“You both know more about this than I do, of course. So… you tell me where we begin, and we’ll get started.”
 
“Right. Let’s do this thing.”
 
Cracking her fingers noisily, Zatanna takes charge, and they get to work. It is, of course, impossible for Harry to not learn more about Raven’s… circumstances as they begin to search out books that might help them find a cure and start reading ancient texts and dusty old tomes.
 
As Zatanna had previously stated, Raven’s mother had made a poor choice in lovers. Raven’s father, who Zatanna and Raven refused to name, had been a monstrous man indeed from the sound of things. He’d seduced Raven’s mother fair and square at first, albeit under incredibly false pretenses, but once he knew that she, Arella, was pregnant… all bets were off, apparently. Arella had spent her pregnancy in the clutches of the man she thought she loved and who she thought loved her in turn.
 
While Raven was growing in her mother’s womb, this Dark Wizard had performed rituals upon the fetus, changing and altering her. He had, in fact, contracted with a Lethifold, and then went about splicing the Dark Creature and an unborn Raven together. Lethifolds, also known as Living Shrouds, were incredibly dangerous magical beasts from what Harry knew. They were carnivorous and had a taste for human flesh.
 
Frankly, in his humble opinion, Raven was lucky to have come out as whole and human-looking as she had, now that Harry knew the same story. Still, it was a bit of a shock to find out her cloak was in fact a manifestation of her true nature as a hybrid creature, rather than simply a fashion statement. And she had an affinity for dark magic that ran deep… very deep.
 
In all honesty, Harry wasn’t entirely sure what sort of cure Zatanna and Raven were hoping to find. It seemed like… well, it didn’t seem like something that COULD be cured. Raven was half-witch, half-Lethifold. Half-human, half dark creature. If they took away the Dark Creature part of her, would there be enough left to even create a full being? Or would she die from the experience? Possibly even end up alive, but a shell of her former self?
 
Zatanna and Raven were determined, so Harry wasn’t necessarily inclined to bring up the idea… but as Saturday came to a close, he did call for an end to their research and make sure the both of them ate dinner and got to bed at a good time. There was some grumbling, but they went along with it anyways. His house, his rules after all.
 
It was the next day, Sunday, when things took a sudden… turn. The three of them were back in the library, and back to researching Raven’s dilemma and a potential cure. That was all well and good, but Harry would have to be blind or an idiot to not notice the slow change coming over the young woman. Especially when Zatanna had clearly noticed as well and was getting antsier and antsier about it.
 
Whether she thought it would just blow over on its own, or perhaps believed they could get through the rest of the weekend without incident… she was wrong. As evidenced by the sudden scream of rage that came from Raven out of nowhere about halfway through Sunday. Suddenly standing up from her seat and tossing the no doubt priceless tome she’d been reading across the library, Raven shrieks as she slams her fists into the table in a sudden temper tantrum that surprises Harry. On the one hand, she was such a quiet young woman normally. On the other, she’d been growing more agitated throughout the last few hours.
 
“IT’S NOT ENOUGH! NOTHING! THERE’S NOTHING!”
 
Slowly bookmarking his own book and closing it, Harry watches Raven curiously, even as Zatanna jumps from her seat and rushes over to the other witch.
 
“R-Raven! Please, Raven calm down, I-!”
 
“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, Z! THERE’S NOTHING HERE! HOURS AND HOURS, AND NOTHING TO SHOW FOR IT!”
 
“Raven, we told you, I told you already, it wasn’t likely to be done in a single weekend! This is one of the best libraries we’ve ever had access to! PLEASE, you have to stop, you’re leaking magic all over the place!”
 
And indeed, she was. Dark wisps of raw power and energy, wafting off of Raven in waves. Harry can only watch as Zatanna, seemingly uncaring of the potential danger, rushes in and hugs Raven to her chest. Despite seeming like a foolhardy move… it’s the right option. Raven almost immediately deflates once her adoptive older sister is holding her close like that. Her screaming and shouting stops, to be replaced by whimpering and sniffles.
 
And then, to Harry’s astonishment, something else happens. Raven’s hand comes up, and before Zatanna can do anything, she flicks it… and a burst of dark energy tears Zatanna’s top away, exposing the American witch’s breasts right then and there. Zatanna gasps, blushes, and looks over at him… but doesn’t stop Raven as she all but attacks the older witch’s tits with her mouth, latching onto a nipple and suckling… suckling like a newborn babe.
 
“R-Raven… please, d-do we have to do this now?”
 
Harry raises an eyebrow at that, even as Zatanna continues to stare at him, mortified and embarrassed. Unfortunately, her pleading tone has no effect on the suddenly ravenous half-Lethifold. In fact, Raven seems to get more insistent, and Harry can see the girl’s tongue lashing this way and that across Zatanna’s breast, as well as hears the older girl’s soft moaning as Raven growls needily.
 
It would seem that Harry had… stumbled into something. From the look of things, this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Zatanna and Raven’s relationship was… different than he’d originally been led to believe. And Harry… Harry was finding it hard not to stare at the display the two beautiful women are putting on before him.
 
He should probably leave, but while Zatanna was still looking at him in shame and embarrassment, she hadn’t asked him to go. He could stay and watch and… be available if they needed him? Or he could take a more proactive stance and offer himself up directly. Of course, that might be perceived poorly by the territorial Raven. While she seemed to have forgotten he was there, there was every chance that if he drew attention to himself, she’d attack him… and not in the fun way that she was currently attacking Zatanna’s breasts with everything she had.
 
Hm. Leave, stay… or act. Three options, and only a limited time to decide what he was going to do.

Chapter 19: Zatanna & Raven Pt. 2

For a long moment, he just watches Raven hungrily suckling and slobbering at Zatanna’s breasts. If the half-Lethifold is hoping for lactation, she doesn’t get it… but then again, maybe that’s not what she’s aiming for at all, because she doesn’t seem all that put out by it. As Zatanna’s protests die down, Raven keeps slurping away, while the American witch who calls her sister just stares at Harry, helpless and mortified.
 
Eventually, he rises from his seat. Zatanna’s eyes follow him, as he carefully makes his way across the room, moving parallel to the pair of them, rather than closer or further away. Conscious of the half-feral Raven at all times, Harry crouches down and picks up the no-doubt priceless tome she’d been reading. Its contents aren’t important right now, they clearly didn’t have the answers that Raven was hoping for, given her… vitriolic reaction.
 
Closing the tome carefully so that it experiences no more damage, Harry sets it down on a nearby shelf… and then walks right back over to the chair he initially vacated, sitting back down in it. Zatanna’s shoulders slump as she continues to gaze at him. There’s a certain resignation in her eyes… but Harry detects relief there as well. On some level, at least, she’s grateful that Harry didn’t abandon her to deal with her adoptive sister alone.
 
Slowly, one of Zatanna’s hands comes up to rest upon the back of Raven’s hair, sliding through the grey-skinned young woman’s hair and pressing her a little further into one of Zatanna’s naked, creamy, smooth breasts. Certainly, the Arithmancy Professor has quite the pair of knockers. Her tits are some of the best Harry has ever seen, so he can’t exactly begrudge Raven for being so fascinated with them.
 
Letting out a shuddering breath, Zatanna begins to speak.
 
“U-Unfortunately… Raven’s childhood was not easy, for reasons you already know. But… puberty was even harder.”
 
She gasps, and looks down to see Raven gnawing at one of her tits. Harry leans forward in his chair, brow furrowing, but Zatanna holds up a hand and shakes her head at him.
 
“D-Don’t worry… she doesn’t draw blood. She’s only… she’s only half-Lethifold. While the hunger does present itself in her, her human half also has a say in things. As such, the normal Lethifold taste for human flesh is… twisted into something more… m-manageable.”
 
Raven’s hands suddenly come up again, quick flashes of dark magic tearing away more of Zatanna’s costume. The American Witch yelps and whimpers, but doesn’t fight it, not even when Raven places her hands directly on her adoptive sister’s flesh and begins to molest and knead other parts of Zatanna’s body, all while keeping her mouth latched onto one of the woman’s tits the entire while.
 
“You don’t have to fret. She won’t hurt me. She just… needs this, sometimes. To calm down, o-of course. Once she’s had a taste of me, she’ll be alright. She’ll be fine, she just-!”
 
Quick as a flash, before Zatanna can finish that sentence, Raven suddenly tears her head away from the American Witch’s breast, though thankfully her teeth aren’t sharp enough to tear anything else away when she does. Her eyes, which have become pitch black, are suddenly focused on Harry, unerringly focused… on his crotch.
 
“W-Wait! Raven, y-you can’t!”
 
Raven doesn’t listen, of course. Instead, she slowly gets up off of Zatanna… and begins to prowl across the floor towards him. When Zatanna pulls her wand, looking stricken but determined, Harry raises a hand.
 
“Hold… I’m pretty sure it’s my fault. I’m willing to give her a chance. If what you say is true and she has no actual desire to sup on human flesh…”
 
“She’s not cannibalistic I swear! She hasn’t ever… oh Raven…”
 
Prowling closer, the feral witch leans in close, sniffing at Harry even as he remains seated, perfectly still. Her hands run down his chest, all the way to his crotch… where admittedly, there’s a noticeable bulge waiting for her attentions. It really is his own fault. He was the one who chose to stick around, and watching Zatanna and Raven go at it was just too damn sexy for him to be able to ignore. He’d gotten a raging boner, and his erection had clearly acted as something of a clarion call to this sex-focused half-Lethifold.
 
Slowly sliding down to her knees, Raven’s pitch black eyes remain on his crotch as Harry tenses himself, preparing for what he expects to happen next. Even knowing it was coming, he still flinches at least a little when she uses her shadowy magical powers to rip the crotch of his pants to shreds, leaving him in just the lower pant legs and exposing his cock to open air without actually harming it.
 
His throbbing member swings up from its nonexistent confines, and nearly hits Raven right in the face, causing the curious half-Lethifold to jerk back in surprise and hiss. It’s honestly a bit adorable, even knowing that she could pose a threat to his health. Still, she recovers quickly enough, and continues to present with that adorable curiosity, leaning forward and sniffing at his cock as her hands dig into his thighs a bit too harshly for his liking.
 
“She’s never… never been with a man before…”
 
Glancing over at Zatanna, Harry raises an eyebrow at the disheveled, flustered American Witch. No longer pinned to her chair, she’s sitting up now, leaning forward. Her tits, glistening with Raven’s spit and spotted with teeth marks, are no less delectable now, with how she’s crossing her arms under them and leaning her elbows on her knees.
 
“Oh? Not even your father?”
 
The look of disgust on Zatanna’s face makes the answer clear. No, not even her father.
 
“I-It wasn’t like that. He would NEVER abuse the trust placed in him by Raven’s mother in that way. He was… he was a good man. A great man. I… s-someone had to help Raven when she got this way. Someone had to be there for her. I was the obvious choice… not that I was given much of one to begin with…”
 
That last bit, about Zatanna not having a choice… Harry was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that. She’d muttered it under her breath, but he’d heard it as clear as day all the same. Maybe it had something to do with them being in the Potter Library and him being Lord Potter? He didn’t know. Either way, he doesn’t get a chance to ask for clarification, before Raven demands his attention… by sticking out her tongue and taking a long lick of his cock.
 
Harry groans as he tilts his head back, her tongue feeling QUITE good against his dick. And she doesn’t stop with one lick either, she begins lapping at his dick the moment she decides she appreciates the taste. Zatanna groans too, though it’s not a groan of pleasure, and her voice is exasperated as she buries her face in her hands.
 
“F-Fuck, Raven…”
 
He can sort of see what she’s thinking, can imagine that she thinks Raven is ruining their hopes of finding a cure by sexually assaulting him or something. But Harry… well, Harry is a guy. And it’s not that he thinks guys can’t be the victims of sexual assault or anything… more that he himself is very much enjoying this at the moment, and it would be a lie to say otherwise.
 
“Zatanna… it’s alright. Honestly, if anything, I feel like I’m the one taking advantage of Raven here.”
 
Looking up at him, the American Witch flushes and shakes her head.
 
“N-No! No, Raven won’t think that, I promise… she’ll be horrified, once she comes back to her senses. She’ll-!”
 
Zatanna is cut off, by Raven escalating once again, this time taking Harry’s entire cock into her mouth in one go. Not just the tip, not just a test, but literally spreading her lips over his dick and just… going right to the base then and there, much to both Harry and Zatanna’s wide-eyed amazement.
 
“H-Holy shit…”
 
The half-Lethifold’s pitch black eyes are fixated on Harry’s face as she bobs up and down his cock, which makes him wonder just how feral she really is. If all she wanted was his dick, she would be staring at his dick. The way she’s focusing on his face while taking his entire member down her throat without a single bit of gagging or choking makes him suspect otherwise.
 
Swirling her tongue along his dick, Raven… Raven begins to moan. And in response, Harry groans. The reverberations caused by her moans traveling up his length, the constant flexing as she continuously swallows his cock without issue down the back of her throat, letting his member travel through her esophagus and into her gullet… it feels absolutely spectacular.
 
“Merlin… I’m not sure how much longer I can last here…”
 
Zatanna blushes an even brighter red at that, sort of peeking through her fingers as she watches the entire exchange, her tits hanging out, her pussy exposed, and half of her clothing shredded besides. Biting her lower lip, she just stares for a moment… before coming to her senses, shaking her head to clear it.
 
“I-It’s fine… o-or at least, it should be. She always… she always licks up every last d-drop of fluid I… I ejaculate…”
 
That would explain why Zatanna was so embarrassed. Harry can’t help but chuckle, looking down into Raven’s eyes.
 
“Well, alright then. Hope she enjoys my cream as much as yours then…”
 
A moment later, he’s cumming. Harry doesn’t miss how Zatanna continues watching the entire time. Nor does he miss how Raven increases the speed of her swallowing, easily handling his thick, creamy load like it’s nothing. She drinks and drinks his seed down until his balls are empty and his dick is spent, before slowly pulling back off of his cock with a pop.
 
For a moment, they just stare at each other, the slightest trickle of cum leaking out the side of Raven’s mouth as she kneels there between his legs, her hands still gripping tightly at his thighs, and his cock softening before her. Then, like a light switch being flicked, Raven’s pitch black eyes transition back into violet irises and white sclera a moment later.
 
Her grip on his thighs tightens even worse than before for half a second as she realizes what she’s done… and then she’s pushing away from him with a cry, fleeing the library a moment later with all the speed that she possesses. Harry stays where he is, blinking at the abrupt departure. Though… he probably should have seen it coming?
 
For a long moment, it’s just him and Zatanna, sitting there a few yards apart in their respective chairs, with their respective bodies mostly on display thanks to Raven’s feral antics and the shredding of half their clothes. The moment they make eye contact again however, Zatanna jolts and flushes bright red once more, before hurriedly getting to her feet and doing her absolute best to cover herself up.
 
“I-I should g-go after her. I’m so sorry about this, I really a-am…”
 
And then she’s gone too, before Harry can once again assure her that it’s quite alright. Alright, so maybe it wasn’t entirely okay… but he really didn’t mind as much as they seemed to think he would. Maybe it was because he was a pervert? If he was being honest… the entire situation had been incredibly arousing, from start to finish.
 
… Yeah, he was a pervert. Well, at the very least it shouldn’t hurt their chances of continuing this arrangement, right? Certainly, he wasn’t going to throw them to the curb, no matter what they might have thought…
 
-x-X-x-
 
“We… we wished to apologize for our earlier behavior. It was unbecoming of us, as guests in your home. Please… may we come in and show you how… sorry we are in person?”
 
Standing in the doorway to the Master Bedroom, staring blankly at his nominal allies, Harry has to admit, he should have seen this coming. Regardless, there’s nothing to be done about it now but handle the situation that’s cropped up. Zatanna and Raven had missed dinner, so he’d had his House Elves deliver the food directly to their rooms, and confirmed after the fact that they DID eat.
 
Hours later however, as the evening was drawing to a close, he’d heard a knock at his bedroom door… and opened it to find Zatanna and Raven, the two of them dressed in negligee and lingerie. Their sheer, see-through nighties do nothing to cover up their lacy, accentuating bras and panties, which show off their curves and their beautiful bodies like no other.
 
It’s a gorgeous display… the only problem is, it feels like an expectation. Like they think this is what they HAVE to do to stay in his good graces. Lips thinning out, Harry shakes his head.
 
“Neither of you have anything to worry about. I’m not going to throw you to the curb, and I am still going to help you cure Raven’s affliction. This… this is unnecessary.”
 
Not unwanted though, and Harry was a little upset, if only because now he was going to have to masturbate once he got done sending these two beauties away. Still, with his piece said, he goes to close the door, only for Zatanna to stop him.
 
“W-Wait! Wait… we, um… you truly don’t want us?”
 
Glancing between the two of them, Harry lets out a incredulous scoff.
 
“Of course I want you both. You’re gorgeous girls, the two of you. But not under these circumstances. Not because you feel forced to give yourselves to me. We’re supposed to be allies. You aren’t my servants, you aren’t my slaves.”
 
“W-What if we want to give ourselves to you, freely?”

This time, it’s not Zatanna who speaks, but Raven, her voice quite quiet as she keeps her head down, looking at Harry through her fringe. He stops for a moment, blinking at her, only to look at Zatanna and see her not contradicting the other witch. In the silence that follows, Raven speaks up again.
 
“When I get like that… I latched onto Zatanna years ago because I was already close to her. I love her, and my other side acts upon that love, or so we always postulated. I don’t hurt her… and I didn’t hurt you either. B-Because… because you’ve been kind to me, to us… and I l-like you, as well.”
 
As Harry is trying to process those words, Zatanna jumps in again.
 
“You’re not what I expected, Harry. There were… rumors about you, about how you were treating your Professorship. But you’ve been nothing but kind to Raven and I. You could have made demands on us, on our bodies, multiple times by now…”
 
Harry frowns and shakes his head, finally having something to say.
 
“Me not demanding to be allowed to slake my lusts upon your figures is not a good reason for offering yourselves up to me on a silver platter, ladies.”
 
Raven jumps in, licking her lips.
 
“What about sitting back and letting me have my way with you while I was in such a dangerous, feral state? Is that a good enough reason? You’ve earned our trust, Harry. You’ve earned… us.”
 
The longer he let this conversation continue, the harder it was for him to justify saying no. Fuck, they were both so fucking beautiful. Did he turn them away, or let them in for what would undeniably be a night of passion? Had he done his due diligence? Was it fine to let this happen? Or would it damage their alliance in the long run?

Chapter 20: Zatanna & Raven Pt. 3

… Fuck it. Harry was tired of second-guessing himself. Silently, he pulls back with the door to his bedroom still open and lets the two lingerie-clad beauties step into the room past him. Both Zatanna and Raven step past him, entering the room with smiles on their faces.
 
In no time at all, he’s sat on the bed with Zatanna kneeling before him, his cock out and placed between her tits. She hasn’t taken off her lacy bra, rather she’s using the undergarment as an aid, letting it continue to push her breasts for her as she rides them up and down his cock while darting her tongue out to lick and lap at the tip of his dick.
 
Raven, meanwhile, sits next to him. The half-Lethifold is a lot shyer, now that her instincts are under control. Harry winds an arm around her body, and contents himself with casually groping one of her tits through the lingerie, even as she moans and leans into his touch. Her eyes are filled with lust, and she’s panting as she stares up at him from where she’s pressed into his side.
 
“You know, with all of this… I’m beginning to think I’m not the one slaking my lusts here. No… that’d be you two.”
 
Raven blushes, the grey-skinned young woman not denying it, even as she wiggles in his grasp. Zatanna, meanwhile, licks her lips, pulling her mouth back from his cock but tit-fucking her breasts along his shaft all the more swiftly in the meantime, as she answers him with a panting breath.
 
“We all have needs, Harry. Why shouldn’t the three of us handle those needs… together?”
 
Harry grunts at that, and then after a moment, he slides his hand up from Raven’s breast to her hair, guiding his fingers through her locks so he can in turn guide her lips to his own. He kisses her, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and Raven tenses for a moment before all but collapsing into him, melting against him and kissing him right back with a muffled moan.
 
Down below, on her knees, Zatanna smiles for a second before lowering her head and returning to her previous efforts. The blowjob-titjob combo she’s giving him is similar to what the lust-crazed Raven had done earlier that day in the library, but also quite unique. Zatanna is certainly a gorgeous woman in her own right, with her own… assets to bring to the table.
 
Indeed, after a bit she reaches up and shows off the fact that her lacy bra is in fact a front-clasp, undoing it and pulling it apart. Her breasts spill free of their confines, and for half a moment he loses the feeling of tight softness around his cock, but then her hands are back on her tits, groping and squeezing them directly. She’s moaning along his dick tip, shuddering in abject pleasure as her eyes flutter. Pinching at her own nipples, she’s clearly getting a lot more out of the experience this way.
 
At the same time, Harry has moved his hand back down to Raven’s bust, and after noting how Zatanna removed her top, he deftly checks to see if Raven’s bra is the same. It is, and a moment later the grey-skinned witch’s breath hitches against his lips as he frees her tits from their confines as well. For her, he’s the one pinching and pulling at one of her nipples, making her moan as the other nipple rubs into his chest.
 
The foreplay is fun, but it can’t last forever… and it doesn’t. Harry is primed and ready to blow, when Zatanna abruptly pulls back, her breasts falling away from his length and her lips leaving his cockhead. She gives him a cheerful grin, when he glances down at her questioningly.
 
“He’s ready for you, Raven~”
 
Before Harry can react, Raven is on top of him. She’s stronger than she looks, he belatedly realizes. Even with her human half in control, she’s able to push him onto his back as she straddles him, sliding her crotch down along his abdomen until she backs her gorgeous peach-shaped ass right up onto his cock.
 
Still wearing her lacy panties, Raven wiggles for a moment, before lifting herself up. With one hand, she tugs her panties aside, and with the other, she takes his cock in hand. Then, she hesitates for a moment, glancing at him questioningly, with a hint of fear in her eyes like she thinks he’s going to reject her at the last second, or be upset at her for taking control.
 
But Harry isn’t bothered. He smiles up at her, grabs her by her hips… and shows that he can give as good as he gets by driving her down onto his cock. Her mouth drops open in a silent cry as he spears her puffy pussy lips from below, and Harry grunts in turn, enjoying the tightness of her sopping wet cunt. For her part, Zatanna is just crawling up onto the bed when Harry slams up into Raven, and she freezes for a moment at the sight, before grinning wickedly.
 
“Oh wow… that’s intense.”
 
Raven’s response is reduced to gasps and moans and shudders, as she quivers atop Harry’s cock. He gives her half a second to recover, before deeming that enough time before he can begin moving. Is that unfair? Maybe, but he was very aware of her inhuman strength and wasn’t inclined to give her a chance to use it against him.
 
Instead, even though he was on his back, Harry was able to control the encounter, simply by keeping Raven off guard. And after seeing what he was doing, Zatanna seemed all too willing to help him. The American Witch, wearing nothing but her own lacy panties at this point, sidles up into place behind Raven, kneeling there as she presses her tits into the grey-skinned woman’s back and whispers into her ear.
 
“That’s right, Raven. Take that big fat cock. You love it, don’t you? You love Harry’s dick, don’t you sister?”
 
For good measure, Zatanna reaches around and grabs Raven’s tits as well, groping and squeezing them much as she’d been doing to herself, back when she’d still been giving Harry a titjob. Raven moans, and outright squeaks when Zatanna grabs her by her nipples and pinches down on them hard, yanking her tits out away from her chest in the process.
 
It would seem, at least from what Harry can tell, that Zatanna has some pent up aggression towards her adoptive sister. Which… if Raven’s feral side has been taking advantage of Zatanna for years, then that’s very fair. Harry is even happy to help her, to help both of them even, get it out of their systems. Jackhammering up into Raven from below again and again, he watches as her eyes cross and the pleasure that both he and Zatanna are bringing to her from their rough treatment finally sends her over the edge.
 
The half-Lethifold squeals as she cums, bucking wildly atop his cock, and Harry… well, Harry was already close even before Raven was impaled upon his prick. With a groan, he throws his head back and shouts out a warning.
 
“Fuck! I’m about to cum!”
 
Raven is in no position to comment on this one way or the other, but luckily, it’s not just the two of them… and Zatanna is a decent big sister after all, because she yanks Raven clean off of his cock and just as he’s beginning to cum, replaces the grey-skinned young woman’s pussy with her mouth. The first shot of his thick, ropey load hits Zatanna’s face, but she manages to wrap her lips around his dick before he continues cumming, resulting in her cheeks ballooning outwards as she swallows and swallows his seed.
 
Harry lets out a satisfied groan, as he fills Zatanna’s mouth and gullet with his cum. However, the American Witch isn’t done with him just yet. Even as she has her lips wrapped around his cockhead, her hands reach down and grab his shaft. Even before he’s done cumming, she’s stroking his length and fondling his nut sack beside.
 
The end result is that, by the time he’s done, he’s actually never got a chance to go soft. Having such a sexy, beautiful woman working him over keeps him nice and hard, and after a minute of this, of making sure he’s not going to soften on her, Zatanna pulls back and licks her lips with a sultry grin.
 
My turn.”
 
Rather than getting atop him herself, the beautiful witch turns and presents him with her backside. Harry doesn’t need much time to think about it, to be honest, not when Zatanna shakes her panty-clad ass in his direction. Raven, covered in sweat, is laid off to the side and watching them both through lidded eyes as Harry rises up onto his knees and grabs her big sister by the hips.
 
His thumbs rub circles into Zatanna’s pale behind for a second, before he hooks them into the waistband of her panties and slowly drags them down off of her hips and along her thighs. The crotch of the underwear sticks to her sopping cunt briefly, before coming away as well. Her pussy lips glisten with need, and so Harry wastes no time in giving her what she wants, thrusting into her from behind.
 
Zatanna cries out, tossing her head back and arching her spine beautifully as he squeezes her hips and begins to fuck her relentlessly. His cock pistons in and out of her cunt, and she claws at the bedding beneath them both, moaning wantonly all the while. She’s just as tight, wet, and eager as Raven was, with a bit more junk in the trunk, so to speak.
 
Ultimately, he moves his hands from Zatanna’s hips to her ass, digging his digits into her plush backside directly, feeling up her pillowy posterior. She moans and groans at that as well, quivering with delight as her inner walls clench and cling to his pistoning prick. It’s not long before Harry detects an orgasm from the American Witch, but he’s not on a hair-trigger this time around, like he was with Raven.
 
In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He’s already cum once and has to build up to his second release. As such, he’s able to fuck Zatanna through not one, but three different orgasms, making her cry out in an ugly fashion each and every time she climaxes upon his cock over the course of who knows how long. Harry certainly isn’t keeping track of time. He’s too lost in Zatanna’s body to pay attention to something like that.
 
Still, he at least notes when he’s getting close, and by the time he is, Zatanna has fallen forward, her arms no longer supporting her. Instead, her back is arched, and her face is pressed into the bed. She’s mewling needily, while kneading with her hands like… like some sort of particularly satisfied big cat. Still, seeing how she handled his load on Raven’s behalf, Harry glances over at the grey-skinned witch in question to see her watching with visible interest and a strained desire.
 
Smirking, Harry reaches out to her, offering his hand… and Raven crawls over, pressing her head and hair into his palm. Pulling out of her adoptive sister, Harry swings his cock around and slides it right into the half-Lethifold’s admittedly dangerous mouth. And yet, wasn’t every woman’s mouth technically dangerous? Anyone could decide to bite during oral sex. Harry trusted Raven and Zatanna. He trusted they wouldn’t hurt him.
 
Raven suckles at his cock for a moment before he begins to cum. Then, her eyes widen and for a moment, fill with pitch black darkness. She sucks even harder than, but he never feels one bit of teeth as she drinks and drinks down his load, almost ravenous in getting his taste from him. Unlike Zatanna, her cheeks don’t once chipmunk outwards, a sign of just how… well, fast she swallows his seed.
 
When she’s done, her tongue swishes and swirls to get any last remnants from his tip, but then she pulls back, not trying to keep him hard like Zatanna had. Harry is grateful for that, because he’s feeling a bit tired. As he collapses back into the center of the bed, Raven reaches down and pulls a sweaty, panting Zatanna upwards from her somewhat humiliating face down, ass up position.
 
Thanks to the half-Lethifold’s efforts, Zatanna ends up curled into his right side, while Raven takes up position on his left. Harry is a little taken aback that they’re sticking around to spend the night, but it wasn’t like he was going to send them away once he was done with them or anything like that. He supposed he just expected them to… well, leave on their own.
 
But this? This was fine too. More than fine, Harry has to admit as two beautiful women press their beautiful, mostly naked bodies up against his and snuggle in close before drifting off to sleep. This… Harry could get used to something like this…
 
-x-X-x-
 
The next day, on Sunday, after a delightful morning shower that all three of them had ended up sharing with each other, along with a breakfast where first Zatanna and then Raven ‘accidentally’ dropped a utensil apiece and disappeared under the table to ‘find them’, much to Harry’s distinct pleasure, they returned to their work.
 
However, this time they weren’t going to the Potter Library… but instead the Black Library. Harry expected they would have much better luck finding the answers they sought in the Black Library if he was being honest, but the place was a bit different then the Potter Library. More dangerous, for one.
 
So dangerous, in fact, that members of the Black Family used a Library Spirit to find the knowledge they were seeking, rather than roaming the stacks themselves. It was better to stay in the safe areas of the library, lest you go too far into the back and never return. Or so Harry had been told.
 
This meant that he had to pry some more, which was why he’d taken Zatanna and Raven to the Potter Library first, not wanting to push too hard, too fast. However, after everything they’d gone through together, Harry figured he could afford to ask.
 
“I’ll need more information if we’re going to utilize the Black Library to it’s fullest extent while we’re here, ladies. Right now, though, I just have one question to start with. What are the two of you hoping to get from this?”
 
Raven and Zatanna exchange a look, with Zatanna furrowing her brow in confusion.
 
“I’m not sure what you mean, Harry.”
 
Sighing, Harry looks between the two witches.
 
“I know more about Raven’s circumstances now, and that’s good. But what exactly are you hoping to DO about them? Do you want Raven to learn to control her other half? Or do you want to try to remove it wholesale, and make her fully human?”
 
Harry sits back as the two share another quiet glance, patiently waiting for their answer.

Chapter 21: Zatanna & Raven Pt. 4

After a beat, Zatanna ducks her head and gestures to Raven.
 
“Raven, it’s up to you.”
 
Startled at having her big sister defer to her, Raven squirms quietly for a moment before finally coming to a decision.
 
“… I want to learn to control it. I can’t… I can’t imagine a world without it. I don’t know if I would still be me, if we removed a whole half of myself. I don’t know what I’d look like after that, but I know I’d be different… a-and I don’t want that. Even if it’s what everyone else wants, I don’t want to change, just for t-them.”
 
By the time she’s done with her heartfelt declaration, Raven has her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Zatanna is looking at the other witch with a sorrowful expression and reaches out to places a comforting hand on Raven’s shoulder. Harry, meanwhile, takes this all in… and smiles.
 
“Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll learn to control it, here in this library, and we’ll show all of them, your detractors and naysayers, how wrong they were about you.”
 
Raven and Zatanna both look at him with wide eyes at that, but only for a moment before they sport matching smiles of gratitude. Really, after everything, were they expecting anything less from him? Especially after last night, heh.
 
Regardless, now that he knows what they’re looking for exactly, Harry can… define the search, so to speak.
 
“Now, please do not disturb me for the next couple of minutes. I need my full concentration, while I’m communing with the Black Library.”
 
Raven gives him a serious nod, But Zatanna just can’t help herself. Adopting a feigned pout, the beautiful American Witch reaches up and tugs at her top a little bit, showing off some of her chest as she licks her lips suggestively.
 
“Are you absolutely CERTAIN there isn’t something we can do for you while you’re busy, Harry?”
 
He’s tempted… insanely tempted. Especially with how Raven’s eyes light up at the idea Zatanna is presenting, her hands curling in her cloak and her hips swaying from side to side in eager anticipation. But Harry has to shake his head with a sigh.
 
“It’s not that kind of thing, unfortunately. I truly do need my full concentration, or shit can go… wrong. So please… just be patient, okay?”
 
Even Zatanna gets serious at that, giving him the same nod Raven already gave him. Feeling like he’s impressed upon them both the severity of the situation, Harry lets out a low breath and steps forward. In the center of the Black Library’s safest area, where the three of them are currently standing, is a table with some chairs on it.
 
This in and of itself is not an oddity. After all, if you wanted to research something, then a table and chairs was all but necessary in any self-respecting library. What’s unique is the hand-shaped indentations on one side of the table. This is where Harry sets his hands, pressing his palms into the indentations and splaying his fingers to connect to the five dots surrounding each one.
 
Then, he focuses his magic on communing with the Library Spirit. It’s his first time doing so, and he’s not sure what to expect save for what he read in the notes he was given on the Black Library. As such, he’s not surprised when the greedy thing draws on his magic, sucking at it, feeding on him. He quickly firms up his Will to keep it from drinking too much, effectively slamming a wall down onto it after he’s decided it’s had enough.
 
However, he’s NOT expecting the voice, entirely feminine and silky smooth.
 
“Oh? A new user? Hello there, handsome. Your magic is… delicious~”
 
As the Library Spirit communicates with him, he can feel the secondary effect of her words, testing and teasing at his defenses, trying to push through his fortifications. Unfortunately for the Library Spirit, he wasn’t that boy in Fifth Year who couldn’t muster up a simple Occlumency Shield to keep Snape out of his mind. While Harry certainly hadn’t learned an ounce of Occlumency from the Potions Professor himself, he’d grown in the time since… and worked on some self-improvement, one might say.
 
His own defenses strong, Harry goes on the offense, reaching out and doing the mental equivalent of a backhand across the Library Spirit’s ‘face’.
 
“I seek knowledge. That is ALL I seek. You have your payment, now you will obey.”
 
“So ROUGH~ Even rougher than the others. Oooh, you’re going to be a fun user, I can tell. Give me more! Make me your bitch!”
 
The tips of Harry’s ears color. Seriously? Why the fuck had none of the notes on the Library Spirit suggested it was… like THIS? Still, he’s not about to be stymied by a horny Spirit. Nor is he about to be tricked. With overwhelming force, Harry reaches out and grabs hold of the Library Spirit with his magic. He binds her up in mental thoughts of rope and chain. Unfortunately, he can’t gag her… he needs her to be able to speak and ask questions.
 
“Yes! YES!”
 
“Be quiet and listen! I seek knowledge from you, Spirit! Not… not this wanton display!”
 
“But why not both?~”
 
Why not both? The answer was obvious, at least to Harry. If it were just him, he might have been sorely tempted. But it was not just him. He was here to help Raven, here looking for answers for another, not himself. And on top of all of that, he’d just spent the night with two beautiful women. He didn’t need the Library Spirit’s help in satisfying his already satisfied carnal urges. Still, he could throw the Spirit a bone.
 
“Give me what I want, and I may see fit to satisfy your needs, Spirit.”
 
“… So transactional. Very well, what is it you desire?”
 
Rather than trying to use words to explain, Harry pushes forward what he needs. Raven’s situation, or at least all that he knows of it, and the half-Lethifold’s desire to become more in control of her other half, to tame the Dark Creature within her. He maybe accidentally lets slip some of his feelings for Raven, and even some impressions of what he and the two American witches had done the previous night as well, because the Library Spirit grows a bit more animated as he shares with her, cooing even over the impression he has of Raven.
 
“Oh, that poor dear. Let’s see what we can do for her then, shall we?”
 
The Library Spirit wiggles in her bindings, and Harry very reluctantly lets her go, while keeping his guard up as much as possible. He can feel it, as the Spirit stretches herself out across the Black Library. It’s a powerful reminder that the Spirit is NOT human, and while she might have a feminine voice, that could just be a trap, designed to lure him in.
 
Regardless, a moment later books come flying down corridors, entering the center of the library and stacking themselves up onto the table in front of him. Not just one book, as Harry might have hoped, but dozens of books, over the course of about five minutes. All the while, he maintains his connection with the Library Spirit, lips thinned out until the deed is done.
 
As the final book comes to rest on the top of the pile, he gets the impression of a caress across his mind.
 
“That one is the one you really want. But if I’ve judged you correctly, you’ll exhaust your other options first. Still, can’t say I didn’t try~”
 
With that, the Library Spirit begins to retreat from his senses, ending their communion herself. Harry very carefully does not breathe a sigh of relief that the Spirit isn’t trying to force him to uphold his end of the bargain right now. But at the same time, he gets the impression that his hasty words might come back to bite him in the ass, some day.
 
Regardless, Harry pulls his hands from the indentations and lets his shoulders slump, feeling what the communion took out of him for the first time. It’s not that he’s exhausted or anything, but certainly, it was a sizable chunk of his energy, not to mention the mild drain on his magic. Still, they got what they needed. The answer must lie somewhere in these books, he’s sure.
 
When he looks to Zatanna and Raven to tell them the good news, however, the words catch in his throat, as he sees them giving him studiously blank expressions. Only then does Harry realize… HIS half of the conversation with the Library Spirit was not only in his mind. While he doubted, they’d been able to hear what the Spirit was saying to him, everything he’d said to it in return was said out loud.
 
Thinking back on some of the things he’d said, Harry groans and palms his face with one hand while lifting his other up to cut Zatanna off from the comment he KNOWS she’s about to make.
 
“Don’t… just don’t.”
 
But of course, Zatanna is not his slave, and while she is currently relying on him to help her sister, she knows he’s not so needlessly petty to hold one quip against her.
 
“Wanton display, huh?”
 
Groaning, Harry buries his face in both hands, causing even Raven to giggle hesitantly, while Zatanna laughs at his expense. Still, the three of them get down to business soon enough, each grabbing a book.
 
Harry himself can’t help but check out the book at the top of the pile, the one the Spirit had pointed out to him. He’s glad he did so before Zatanna or Raven could grab it, because the title makes him blanch.
 
Dark Creature Husbandry: Taming, Training, and Breeding
 
Seriously? No wonder the Spirit had known he wouldn’t go for this. Raven wasn’t some… some ANIMAL. Sure, they wanted to help her control her Lethifold Half, and that would likely involve some form of training, but Taming and Breeding? The tips of Harry’s ears are red again, as he carefully sets the book off to the side and grabs the next from the pile, digging into that one instead.
 
With this many books, he’s SURE that there’s a more reasonable answer somewhere in this pile. There’s just… just no way that the answer likes in Dark Creature Husbandry, of all things!
 
Unfortunately, his conviction is sorely tested over the next few hours as he, Zatanna, and Raven all pour through the books the Library Spirit has chosen for them. It’s not that the tomes don’t have solutions in them… they do. They’re just not acceptable solutions. For instance, one requires human sacrifice, something none of them are willing to engage in. Another method seems more likely to put Raven’s Lethifold Half in control of her Human Half, then the other way around.
 
There are dozens of possible paths forward in these books, as Harry had expected from the Black Library. This was almost certainly the foremost repository of knowledge on Dark Creatures in all of Europe, if not the entire world. That said… he didn’t like any of these answers, and neither did Zatanna and Raven, judging by their increasingly weary faces.
 
Until finally…
 
“This is it.”

Raven’s quiet voice breaks through the silence of their shared research, startling Harry and Zatanna out of their current reading. As Harry looks over, he blinks and then blanches again, recognizing the open tome in Raven’s hands. A glance over shows that yes… it’s gone. The Dark Creature Husbandry book has somehow found its way from his side of the table to Raven’s.
 
Harry doesn’t for one second think that Raven snuck it over herself. He would have noticed, and more than that, she’s not that kind of girl. Which means… Harry grits his teeth and glares up at the ceiling, no doubt in his mind to the TRUE culprit. Unfortunately, he can’t exactly go about punishing the Library Spirit right now.
 
“Are you sure, Raven?”
 
Zatanna, excited, hops up from her seat and hurries over to read over Raven’s shoulder. Harry watches, clenching his hands into fists helplessly, as Zatanna frowns at what she’s reading, her excitement dropping rapidly before she finally looks to Raven and repeats her query in a VERY different tone of voice.
 
“… Are you sure, Raven?”
 
In turn, the grey-skinned witch looks resolute as she nods, holding the open book firmly in her grasp.
 
“Yes. We’ve… we’ve already been preparing for this method without even knowing it, all these years. I’ve been acclimating to you every time you’ve… acted as a target for my lusts. I’m already half-tamed, by this book’s definitions. That means the collar described here should take effect quite nicely… and with it, you’ll be able to keep me in check.”
 
Frowning, Harry clears his throat and speaks up.
 
“Collar?”
 
Looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes, Raven eagerly nods.
 
“With the right materials, we can build it. It… it probably won’t be cheap. Um, I u-understand if it’s too much, Zatanna and I can f-find another way to procure the f-funds and-!”
 
“Money is no object, Raven. We’re allies… more than that, after last night. But are you sure this collar is a good idea?”
 
“Yes.”
 
Raven’s answer is immediate, and she certainly sounds sure, even as she goes on to elaborate.
 
“The collar will only allow individuals keyed into it to control me. More than that, it’s meant to condition me, or rather, the Dark Creature part of me, over time. With it, you and Zatanna will be able to stop me when the Lethifold takes over and force it to obey you. Slowly but surely, you can shape me into a productive member of society, this way.”
 
“Raven!”
 
Zatanna’s cry of alarm matches Harry’s feelings… or so he thinks. When Raven looks to her older, adoptive sister, Zatanna’s next words make it clear that she’s not as bothered by the same parts of what Raven is saying as Harry is.
 
“… You trust him with this?”
 
Harry jolts, just realizing what Raven had said and what Zatanna is getting at. Raven had said he and Zatanna would be able to stop her. Not just Zatanna. She wanted him keyed into the control collar. That was… that was a lot.
 
“I do. We’ve trusted him this far… and besides, we’ll need his help. The collar is NOT cheap.”
 
Zatanna slowly nods, before looking to Harry. It’s clear that the American Witch has developed feelings for him, and she trusts him more than she did when she first came to him… but this is definitely a step even further than that, and she’s not entirely comfortable. To be fair, neither is Harry. Surely there’s another way?
 
… But no, staring at the books and tomes strewn all over the table after hours of fruitless research, it doesn’t seem like another way is presenting itself. From what Raven is saying, the collar will slowly shape Raven into the woman she wants to be, so long as he and Zatanna don’t abuse it, not that either of them have any inclination to, he believes.
 
Eventually, the collar would hopefully be able to be removed. But in the meantime, Raven would be putting her entire being in their hands. It was… definitely more than Harry was expecting to be responsible for. Part of him wanted to say no, to all of it. But that would almost certainly end their alliance, and this budding relationship he had going with the two witches.
 
He could… he could reject control over the collar, but still pay for its construction so that it was all in Zatanna’s hands. But he’d gotten the impression that she was already a little burnt out from being the only one in charge of Raven, all these years. He didn’t doubt Zatanna’s love for her adopted little sister for even a second, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her own struggles.
 
The final option, him and Zatanna sharing… custody of the collar, might be the best option for Zatanna, but would it be the best for him and Raven? Did he trust himself with that sort of power over the half-Lethifold?
 
One way or another, a decision had to be made. The weekend was almost over after all, and they would be expected back at Hogwarts tomorrow.

Chapter 22: Zatanna & Raven Pt. 5

He did, actually. Trust himself, that is. It’s a startling realization, but as Harry stands there mulling it over, he realizes that he trusts himself with power over Raven. He won’t abuse it. He won’t abuse her. Not in a million years. And, if anything did happen… he would have Zatanna to keep him in check, just as he would be there to keep her in check and give her the relief, he could tell she very much needed.
 
This was the best case scenario for all of the, the more he thought about it. Raven would have two people she trusted wholeheartedly sharing custody over the collar, which would in turn keep the possibility of abuse as low as can be. Zatanna would have back up so to speak, someone to take some of the pressure off and keep her from getting more burnt out than she already was. And Harry… Harry would have allies he KNEW he could trust, completely and utterly.
 
Not that he’d doubted Zatanna and Raven were already in his corner, especially after what they’d all done together the night before, but this… this was an added level of insurance that he hadn’t expected. It was just perfect that it was also exactly what Raven wanted and needed to hopefully be a functional member of society.
 
That said, Harry can’t NOT do his due diligence. Straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, he looks Raven in the eye, making sure to convey just how serious he is to her.
 
“You know that I would happily help you both create the collar with all of the resources at my disposal without needing to have half-control over it, right? I want to make sure you’re aware of that.”
 
Raven’s soft smile is answer enough, but she also nods and speaks.
 
“I know.”
 
Feeling the final bits of his reluctance drop away, Harry returns her smile and nod with his own.
 
“Then I’ll accept this responsibility and share it with your sister.”
 
The soft smile on Raven’s face becomes a beaming grin, and even Zatanna is smiling now, as the three of them stand there basking in a shared sense of purpose and camaraderie for a moment. Then, it’s time to get to work.
 
Luckily, they do in fact have all the materials on hand. The collar in question… isn’t that hard to make. Especially when you have the supplies of a very Dark Family at your fingertips. Everything needed to make a Dark Creature Taming Collar was located in the Black Family Storehouses. Having it brought to him and Zatanna so they could begin constructing the collar was the work of a few minutes, thanks to magic. Building the thing, meanwhile, only took a couple of hours.
 
When it’s done, the collar sort of makes Harry wince, just a tad. Namely because… well, it was clearly designed for an animal, not a person. There’s even a ring coming off of it that’s made for a leash to be attached. As he and Zatanna both infuse the enchanted item with pieces of their magic, effectively taking joint ownership over it by doing so at the same time, Harry can’t help but look at Raven, who seems… unfazed by the fashion statement she’s about to be wearing.
 
“You sure about this, Raven?”
 
Smiling slightly, Raven just nods, her eyes fixed on the collar. She doesn’t seem upset or uncomfortable about it or anything like that. If anything, she looks… excited. Clearing her throat, Zatanna leans in.
 
“Because you’re more than willing, and intelligent besides, you should be able to help the attunement process along… as well as influence the final look of the collar in the direction you most prefer, Raven. So just focus on what you want it to look like, once you put it on, alright?”
 
Oh, Harry hadn’t known that bit. How interesting. Even now, in small ways like this, his alliance with Zatanna and Raven was paying dividends. Of course, it was about to pay off in a big way as well. Not that Harry wanted to have this power over Raven, necessarily… but if she wanted him to have it, he’d do it. He’d take control.
 
Smiling still, Raven nods to Zatanna’s point and takes the finished, imbued collar from their collective hands. The half-Lethifold looks down at the collar for a moment, before bringing it up to her neck and wrapping it around her thin grey neck. Harry can only watch as it seals shut with a magical hiss and a flash of energy. Now, the only people who can take it off are him and Zatanna.
 
However, in that moment, as Raven attunes to it and willingly accepts their dominion over her without resistance and without a fight, she also has influence, just as Zatanna said she would. What starts out looking like a dark brown leather dog collar swiftly transforms, warping right there upon Raven’s throat into something more… her style.
 
Pitch black, of course, and still leather, but with a thinner feel to it. And, to Harry’s mild surprise because he didn’t know she could physically alter it THAT much, there’s now a blood-red gemstone sitting in the center of the collar, right atop the hollow of her throat. It glows a little bit, before fading. In the end, she’s left with something that looks more like a fashionable choker, than an animal’s collar. Something that people might notice but won’t think of as anything more than another part of Raven’s whole… style.
 
After all, she was already the sort to wear dark and mysterious and wear it well before now. Harry couldn’t help feeling like this new accessory of hers matched her look. Which made sense, given she’d gotten to decide what form it exactly took.
 
As he’s making this observation, Zatanna is leaning forward some more, a note of worry in her voice.
 
“Raven? How are you feeling?”
 
There’s a twitch, and suddenly Raven’s eyes are pitch black as she’s staring at Zatanna with an intense sort of focus. Wisps of dark power, just as before, start to flow off of her and she licks her lips, hungrily. Zatanna, seeing this, blushes and seems almost resigned, prepared for what always happens. She’s not even trying to fight back as Raven reaches for her.
 
Harry takes one look at this and frowns, reaching out with his magic and stopping Raven in her tracks via his control over the collar.
 
“Zatanna.”
 
As the half-Lethifold twitches, her magic pulling back into her, though her eyes remain pitch black, her adoptive older sister flinches and looks over to him, blinking owlishly.
 
“Would Raven want you to avoid using the very thing she just had us make for her?”
 
Zatanna flushes, the American Witch clearly not thinking of it like that. She hadn’t been thinking at all, really. She’d been operating on instinct, a resigned sort of expectation that there was no way to stop Raven’s other half without hurting her or getting hurt, or someone else potentially getting hurt and everything being ruined.
 
Harry had been right to think that Zatanna was burnt out on caring for her younger sister all these years. Fuck, she was half-trained by the other witch herself! The collar… the collar was the right idea. Involving Harry was also the right idea. How much longer could Zatanna and Raven have gone on, before something snapped?
 
Reaching out, he takes Zatanna by the hand.
 
“You can do this, Z.”
 
His use of Rave’s nickname for her causes her to blush, but also nod, a determined look on her face as she reaches out with her own magic. Holding physical hands, they also overlap their magical presences across the collar they share ownership of. Normally this would be a Bad Idea, but in this moment, they’re of one mind.
 
“Raven. Calm down.”
 
Zatanna’s words carry the weight of authority behind them… and the magic to back it up besides. Raven whimpers and immediately ducks her head, submitting to her older sister’s command without hesitation. It looked like she was right, she was already half-tamed by the collar’s definition. She just needed a little bit more… training.
 
“You’ve been quite the handful in recent years, Raven. I think you owe your sister an apology.”
 
Zatanna’s jolts in alarm at that, but Raven is already moving to obey, dropping down to her knees right then and there, even as Harry tugs Zatanna by her hand into his lap. The American Witch’s breath hitches, as he spreads her legs apart, offering her crotch to the approaching half-Lethifold. Collared and controlled, the pitch-black eyed girl crawls forward, eyes zeroing in on Zatanna’s leotard-covered mound.
 
When she initially tries to use her magic to tear Zatanna away, Harry bats it aside, stopping her in her tracks.
 
“Not like that. Gently.”
 
His commanding tone brooks no argument, not that he’s entirely sure she can give one in this state anyways. It works, regardless. Raven twitches, but the next time she reaches out with her dark magic, it’s slower, more careful. She uses it to pull Zatanna’s garments aside, rather than tearing them to shreds. She exposes Zatanna’s moist, glistening slit to open air, causing the American Witch to whimper and bite down hard on her lower lip in anticipation.
 
A moment later, Raven is between Zatanna’s legs, ravenous as ever. Still, she’s been good up to this point, and Zatanna’s wanton moans make it clear she’s enjoying it. So, Harry lets Raven go to town, and nuzzles into Zatanna’s neck, licking and nibbling at her throat while his hands grope and squeeze her chest through her top. In response, Zatanna, who can no doubt feel his bulge through his crotch, begins to grind against it as much as she possibly can, moaning wantonly all the while.
 
“S-Sorry. I don’t… I guess it didn’t seem real u-until now…”
 
Harry chuckles and shakes his head.
 
“You don’t need to apologize to me, Zatanna. You did the best you could, all these years. You did right by Raven all this time, keeping her safe, keeping her happy. And you did right coming to me for help.”
 
Zatanna mewls, and wiggles some more, caught between Harry’s molestation and Raven’s enthusiastic cunnilingus, all the while feeling his rock hard cock through his pants, pressed against her delectable bubble butt.
 
“T-Thank you… f-for everything…”
 
Harry just nods, nipping at her ear before making a promise.
 
“Together, Z. We’ll tackle this together, just as Raven wants. We’ll be there for her, together. And we’ll be there for each other as well. Okay?”
 
“… ‘kay…”
 
Lolling her head back onto his shoulder, Zatanna’s eyes are lidded as she moans throatily and wantonly. Looking down, Harry can see Raven’s pitch black eyes staring up at him from between the American Witch’s pale thighs. The Lethifold half might be in control right now, but Harry and Zatanna were in turn in control of it.
 
Grinning, he gives Zatanna’s tits a fresh squeeze. It was rather obvious, what the three of them would be doing for the rest of the weekend.
 
-x-X-x-
 
The return to Hogwarts is met with little fanfare… on the surface of it. Underneath said surface, Harry isn’t surprised one bit when Tonks comes to him on her mother’s behalf and lets him know that his departure with Zatanna and Raven whipped the Lodge up into a bit of a frenzy. Only Andromeda’s assurances that it was simply a weekend trip, that he hadn’t broken his contract, and that she didn’t know anything else, had quieted them down a bit apparently.
 
It was even the truth. Andromeda might have given him information that he’d then used to procure his alliance with Zatanna and Raven, but he hadn’t told her anything about what he was doing with the two of them. Plausible deniability, and all that. That said, it had changed things. Maybe Harry was foolish for not realizing it would.
 
He should have known better, and he listens carefully as Tonks matter-of-factly explains what’s been going on in his absence, and what she thinks he should do next… while on her knees before him, her tits wrapped around his cock. The metamorphmagus truly was insatiable, now that she’d finally gotten past her cockblocking mother. Or whatever the female equivalent of cockblocking was…
 
“The Lodge is curious, of course. You’ll have to warn Zatanna and Raven not to let them get too close. But also, interestingly enough, others have been making noise about your absence as well. Apparently, the Astronomy Professor, Emma Frost, was pushing for information about you.”
 
Emma Frost… her and her assistant, Jean Grey, were another pair of American Immigrants who had come to Hogwarts this year. Andromeda had used them to fill in spots so the Lodge couldn’t completely stack the deck in their favor, but what did she truly know about them? What did HE know about them and their motivations?
 
“On top of that… Yennefer may have made a mistake. Or it’s a gambit. One you could possibly capitalize on.”
 
Harry blinks and raises an eyebrow questioningly at THAT, prompting Tonks to explain.
 
“Her daughter is visiting her right now. Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.”
 
“Excuse me?”
 
Tonks grins, clearly having done that on purpose.
 
“She prefers to go by Ciri, to be clear. She may or may not be descended from royalty, though most Kings and Queens, even on the magical side of thing, have abdicated by this point in history. Technically, she’s Yennefer’s adoptive daughter… but that doesn’t mean the woman doesn’t dote on her immensely. Cirilla might literally be the only other person Aunt Yen truly cares about in this whole world.”
 
Shrugging, Tonks pauses for a moment to drool some more onto his cock, coating his member in her saliva to make the passage between her soft breasts all the better.
 
“Like I said, it’s either a mistake or a gambit. Either Ciri is here to lure you in… or Yen just couldn’t keep her away. Either way, it’s an opportunity for you. If you can get Ciri on your side somehow, then you can get Yen on your side… and with that, you’ve taken down one of the heads of the Lodge. No small feat, to be sure.”
 
That… makes a lot of sense. And is very tempting. But Tonks is right. It might be a trap. This Cirilla might be there to lure him in.
 
Hmph, but if he was to shy away from every potential move the Lodge made, not only would it alert them to his knowledge of their plans for him, but it would also make for a very cowardly existence. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to give into the Lodge, that he was going to make them submit to him before they could do the same to him… and here was, as Tonks said, an opportunity.
 
But perhaps it was too soon. If he got in over his head now, all he would have on his side would be Andromeda, Nymphadora, Zatanna, and Raven. Not quite a stunning display of firepower, especially compared to what the Lodge had.
 
So perhaps the right choice was to continue on with his previous path, of bringing the Americans over to his side. Initially, he’d thought to move from Zatanna and Raven to Pamela and Harleen. However, now he wondered if it was better to confront this Emma Frost and her assistant Jean Grey sooner, rather than later…

Chapter 23: Emma Frost & Jean Grey

Yennefer's daughter Ciri was an opportunity to be sure… but also very likely a trap. In the end, it was better that Harry didn't engage, at least for the time being. There would be other opportunities in the future. Opportunities that Harry could create with his own two hands and magic, and thus trust not to be traps.

In the meantime, however, it didn't seem like a good idea to let this situation with the new Astronomy Professor, Ms. Frost, fester too much. Learning that she was asking after him, well… it piqued his interest, if he was being honest. Her and her assistant, Jean Grey, were complete unknowns for the moment. So perhaps it was time to change that.

Of course, he would have preferred if it was another meeting in his classroom, like with Zatanna. The home court advantage, if you would. But alas, it seemed like he couldn't get his way on that. Sending a message to Professor Frost had resulted in a reply back inviting him to take a private dinner in the Astronomy Tower with her and her assistant.

It would have been rude and even worse, counterproductive, to decline the seemingly gracious invite. Still, Harry was a little worried he was walking into a trap. There was nothing to it, in the end. The Lodge were his true enemies, as far as he was aware. And one couldn't really gain anything if they weren't willing to risk anything, now, could they?

And so, Harry found himself up in the Astronomy Tower on an admittedly wonderful evening. The sky was clear, meaning the stars were out and about. It was a Saturday, the very next Saturday after he had gotten back from his weekend trip with Zatanna and Raven in fact, so there was no late night Astronomy classes to be had.

It was actually rather interesting. This was the very place where Harry had taken years of Astronomy Classes under the gaze of one Professor Aurora Sinistra. However, it looked absolutely nothing like it had under her care. Instead, the placed was filled with all sorts of American décor, and in the center of it, what was probably just a temporary thing for the night, a dining table and some high back chairs are set up.

As Harry sits down at the table with Emma Frost across from him and Jean Grey on the side, he considers the two beautiful witches for a moment. Professor Frost is the older of the two, of course, but unlike with Zatanna and Raven, she's old enough to be Jean's mother. Jean, much like Raven, is of an age with Harry, and smiles and flushes, averting her gaze when he glances in her direction.

Emma on the other hand, is decidedly older… however, the slow aging of a powerful witch means she only appears that way because of the nimbus of magic that seems to waft off of her. In truth, look's wise, she's a lot like Zatanna, albeit with a slightly fuller figure. But in power? Her age shines through readily.

Harry isn't all that bothered though. The gorgeous blonde is powerful, but… so is he. She doesn't seem to care as much about controlling that power as Harry does, with him working hard to rein in his own aura long before he came to Hogwarts, utilizing the information he was able to find in the things left behind by the two family fortunes he'd inherited.

It wasn't just wealth after all, but also knowledge. Quite a lot of it in fact.

Regardless, even as they're all getting settled and eyeing each other up, the food from the Hogwarts Kitchens appears on the table in front of them all, large platters filled with delightful arrays of deliciously cooked treats and entrees alike. Harry knows that, just as with any meal he has at Hogwarts, he could stuff himself to the brim off of this food. He'll have to be careful not to. Not good to go into a food coma when eating with relative strangers.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation to dinner, Professor Potter. Jean and I have been so very… curious about you, ever since we arrived at Hogwarts."

Her icy blue eyes flicker over to Jean at that, and the younger witch quickly nods, backing up her… Mistress? Harry still didn't truly know the relationship between the two of them. It seemed likely that Jean was her apprentice in some way, shape or form, especially if she'd followed Emma all the way over across an ocean to this place.

But then, while it was obvious that Jean was here because Emma was here, it wasn't quite so obvious why Professor Frost had come. Or… was it? Harry had a sinking suspicion that he knew exactly why the gorgeous blonde might have accepted Andromeda's offer to teach at Hogwarts. Maybe it was a little ego-centric, but he was beginning to suspect that all of this led… right back to him.

Deciding to take a stab in the dark, he chews down his current bite of food and swallows before replying with a smile of his own that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I must admit, I was wondering when the invitation would come. I've been waiting for you two to get in contact."

That gets something of a reaction, Harry immediately notes. Jean's is more pronounced them Emma's, though. While the blonde stiffens and her eyes narrow slightly, Jean's head whips towards him and her own eyes widen in surprise. The red head knows better than to speak up though at least, and after a long moment of silence, Emma clears her throat slightly.

"Oh?"

Harry just smiles at them both. Well, it was working so far… so why not keep it up?

"Of course. I'm why you're both here in Great Britain, aren't I? Well, I'm at your disposal. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

His confidence this time around gets much more of a reaction from Emma, while Jean just looks somewhat shellshocked. Leaning forward, the blonde puts down her utensils and stares at him intensely. Harry raises an eyebrow as he feels something noticeable brush against his Occlumency defenses.

"You know why we're here?"

He can feel it. Her probing his mind… or rather, trying to. He hadn't learned Occlumency back when he was still in school, but he DEFINITELY had after the fact. He'd shied away from the Black Family Occlumency Techniques because they seemed a bit too cruel. Now? Now he almost wishes he hadn't, if only so he could teach Ms. Frost a lesson. As it is, he'd settled for the Potter Family Occlumency Techniques, mostly because they seemed a lot more reasonable and less… prone to escalation.

His mind a fortress, he can nevertheless feel Emma Frost trying to worm her way in all the same. And so, he activates his defenses… and lets a metaphorical pot of boiling oil fall upon her metaphorical head. Just before it can hit however, and she can be forcibly expelled from his head, something interesting happens… she's pulled away by a third party, dragged out of his mind by someone else…

"H-He doesn't. He doesn't know anything. But he was ready for you. Um, trying to enter his mind isn't a good idea, m-ma'am."

Harry's emerald eyes widen as he flicks them over to Jean Grey, who has just spoken up. Emma looks to the younger witch too, seeming far more ruffled now. Her lips thin out, while Harry tries to figure out exactly how Jean got the information she got. He scours his mind's defenses… and then realizes, with a shuddering sort of horror, that it doesn't matter. His Occlumency isn't up to the challenge. Jean Grey, whoever she is, is in his head anyways.

In an instant, Harry is up on his feet, wand out and pointed at the unassuming young witch. Jean goes wide-eyed and freezes in her chair, while Emma draws her own wand… but not quick enough. Neither of them are quick enough to react.

In an instant, a silent stunner explodes from Harry's wand and smacks Jean right in the chest. The red head slumps over her plate, unconscious. Meanwhile, he brings his wand back around and casts an equally silent Protego, just in time to catch Emma's retaliatory spell and deflect it away. The whole exchange is the span of a few seconds, as he glares angrily at Emma Frost, who looks just as unhappy with him.

"What did you do to her?!"

"She's unconscious! I don't much appreciate people rummaging around in my mind!"

"She can't control it! It's not her fault!"

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe the woman who definitely just tried to read my thoughts as well and failed!"

There's a brief pause, as they both stare each other down. Harry is half-ready for things to devolve even further into a fight, when Emma's shoulders slump.

"… Fair enough. I apologize on behalf of both my apprentice and myself, Lord Potter-Black. We could have approached this far better, and we did not."

If there's one thing Harry isn't expecting from Professor Frost, it's sudden humility. And an apology to boot. She even sets down her wand, places her hands at her sides, and BOWS to him while she gives it. He doesn't take his wand off of her, of course. Instead, he keeps it trained on her, even as she continues to apologize.

"I'm telling the truth, however. Jean… cannot control her Legilimency. We're working on it, her and I, but it's slow going."

Brow furrowing, Harry shakes his head in abject confusion.

"You'll have to explain THAT one to me a fair bit more. How does that even work? What do you mean she can't control her Legilimency?!"

Emma slowly lifts her head, stiffening and pursing her lips when she sees his wand is still trained on her. If she thought he was just going to relax though, she had another thing coming. Regardless, she sighs as she glances to her unconscious charge.

"… Jean and I are both natural Legilimens. We were born with the skill, and it just… it happens naturally. We can control it, and we DO learn to control it… but Jean… Jean is special in a way that I am not."

Harry can practically feel destiny or fate or what have you creeping up his spine yet again. He'd been making educated guesses when he started spouting bullshit about them coming to Britain for him, just to get reactions out of them. Still, this was feeling more and more like it was going to be another sob story just like Zatanna and Raven's. The difference being, Zatanna and Raven hadn't invaded his mind without his consent and read his thoughts.

"And how, exactly, is she special?"

Grimacing, Emma lets out a slow breath before finally answering him.

"… She's a new breed of natural Legilimens. Her talent is… incredible. Specifically, she ignores all forms of Occlumency, like they aren't even there. That's what I meant by her inability to help herself. She reads the minds of everyone around her constantly, no matter their defenses, because she's still working on controlling her natural gift. It wasn't her fault that she was hearing your thoughts, and knew you were bullshitting us."

There's the smallest hint of defensive judgment in the blonde witch's tone at that last part, while Harry finds himself turning over what she just said in his mind. It's a scary thought, that someone could be as powerful as she's claiming Jean Grey is. The young witch just no-sold Occlumency? That was some bullshit. He'd never heard of magic interacting like that before, but then, he was still young and his forays into the repositories of knowledge he'd inherited had just begun.

Was there some defense against Jean's talent all the same and he just needed to find it? Who knew, really. For the moment, keeping her unconscious was a defense at least, he supposed. Not one he could rely upon forever, however…

Still, there was one point of confusion for him.

"… I'm not sure what this all has to do with me. I'm not a natural Legilimens. I'm not even a trained Legilimens. I know Occlumency and that's it. So, what in Merlin's name do you want with me?"

Looking increasingly like she's feeling backed into a corner, Emma Frost grits her teeth, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

"… We left America behind looking for a certain degree of protection. We thought we might find it here, at Hogwarts, under your aegis."

Bewildered, Harry knows he looks taken aback. He FEELS taken aback.

"My aegis?! What does that even mean?!"

Straightens up, Emma looks down her nose at him, sneering just a bit.

"Your little school and island is not all there is to the Magical World, Harry James Potter. There is evil everywhere… darkness to be found in every corner of the world, in fact. Tell me, who was Lord Voldemort to you?"

The question throws Harry for a loop, but he's a little annoyed as is, so he decides to answer her question as caustically as she's speaking to him.

"The man who killed my parents, for starters."

Good, that got a wince out of her. He continues on.

"He was a monster. MY monster. The damn Prophecy meant he was never going to leave me alone. He was my enemy. The Dark Lord."

Emma's eyes light up at that last bit, and she seizes upon it as she slaps her hands down on the table in front of her and leans forward further.

"There. THE Dark Lord. Tell me, Harry Potter… what in the world made you think Lord Voldemort was the only Dark Lord? THE Dark Lord? Don't make me laugh. No… he was merely a Dark Lord."

Harry jolts at that, getting the meaning behind her words easily enough. Emma smirks momentarily at seeing the realization alight in his eyes, before her shoulders slump and she lowers her head.

"… Once again, I apologize for my behavior. Perhaps a more… heartfelt apology is in order? If you would be willing to hear me out… I would gladly make it worth your while."

As she speaks, she reaches up and tugs a little bit at her low cut top. The white dress she's wearing has no shoulders to it, meaning Harry has already gotten a couple glimpses down the front of it as she's leaned forward while they spoke. Now, she's practically giving him a free show as she goes from caustic to sultry in less than a second.

It's some serious mood whiplash, but there's no denying how sexy Emma Frost is. At the same time, does he really want this to be how they start off their relationship? No, rather… does he want a relationship with these two at all? Perhaps it would be better to just tell her to fuck off and get out of here while he still could. Even if there was another Dark Lord… hadn't he done enough by handling his own? He'd satisfied the Prophecy, damn it. Wasn't he entitled to his freedom?

Chapter 24: Emma Frost & Jean Grey Pt. 2

Call it what you will. When Zatanna came to him asking for his help, Harry hadn't taken advantage of her, viewing her as a woman desperate and willing to do anything. In comparison, Emma Frost didn't feel desperate. Maybe she was just better at hiding it than Zatanna was. Or maybe she was every bit the schemer that she came across as.

Either way, seeing this cool, haughty blonde practically offering herself to him on a silver platter… there's no denying it makes Harry's cock twitch. Perhaps it would be better to reject her out of hand. Or, if he wasn't willing to set her and Jean adrift, then perhaps it would be better to hear her out without letting Emma make it worth his while.

Perhaps that would put her on the back foot… or perhaps it would make her more standoffish, more unwilling to trust him with everything. In the end, maybe Harry is just a hypocrite… because he's already made his choice, and he knows it.

"… Very well. Make it worth my while, and I'll hear you out."

Emma's answering smirk and the twinkle in the blonde's eye definitely makes it clear that the Astronomy Professor believes she's gotten one over on him. Or at the very least, that she has him right where she wants him.

"But of course, Lord Potter-Black. Please… retake your seat."

With a raised eyebrow, Harry does so, even as he cocks his head to the side.

"Laying it on a bit thick there, aren't you?"

Letting out a soft laugh that's at odds with the predatory nature that she presents as she rounds the table, Emma's smirk ratchets up a notch and she hums consideringly.

"Apologies. Am I allowed to call you Harry, then?"

He looks at her, his wand still in hand as she closes in on him. When she notices it, she stiffens for a moment, but doesn't look TOO put-out… so he figures she probably wasn't trying to get his guard down so she could attack him. If he thought for even a moment she was out to try and obliviate him of this conversation, or worse, then Harry would… well, all bets would be off, that was for sure.

"You were calling me by my full name mere moments ago, while you were lecturing me. If I can call you Emma, you can call me Harry."

An exchange of pleasantries, and a faux relaxation of etiquette. The two of them are not friends, and while first name basis would normally signify them moving in the direction of being friends, in this moment it's mere pageantry. Emma inclines her head in both agreement with his words, and acknowledgment of that fact.

Still, there's every possibility they could BECOME friends still. The white-clad blonde witch finally arrives before him, pulling his chair out from the table and turning him to face her. Harry doesn't move, allowing her to do all the work, even as he keeps his wand trained on her.

To her credit, Emma Frost doesn't let it bother her, even as she gracefully descends to her knees, seeming altogether serene, despite playing herself between his legs. Reaching forward slowly, to show she means no harm, Emma unbuckles his pants and unbuttons and unzips his trousers. His cock comes out a moment later, with the blonde pulling it free of his confines with barely any reaction at all. If she's amazed OR disappointed by his size, she doesn't show it.

Instead, she gives him a sultry, seductive smile, stroking his shaft to full mast with a few up and down motions… and then angles his cock downwards, sliding it into the cleavage of her sizable bust. Her breasts, still contained within her low-cut white dress, provide an ample bosom with which to entrap and stroke his cock. Her soft, pillowy tits feel quite good around his dick in fact, and Harry grunts, holding back a groan of enjoyment.

As she moves her tits up and down his cock, Emma licks her lips, and after a moment, looks up at him.

"I appreciate you giving me this chance to explain, Harry. May I begin?"

Well, she's certainly making it worth his while at this point, heh. Seeing as she'd probably stop giving him a titjob if he refused her, Harry waves for her to get on with it with his free hand, not quite trusting himself to speak at the moment. Emma's smile takes on a knowing look to it, and the blonde glances back down at his throbbing cock as it disappears down her top again and again, before finally speaking.

"As I said before, Jean and I… we're natural Legilimens. There's a community of us, over in America. We have a history of being persecuted for our trait, even though it's out of control. Legilimency is viewed with distrust and distaste at the best of times, especially as the practice of teaching Occlumency to one's children has fallen further and further out of practice."

It seemed he was getting lectured one more. Admittedly, Harry couldn't bring himself to mind all that much. It was a very pleasurable lecture, what with Emma's tits wrapped around his throbbing cock. Still, he does his best to focus on what she's saying. At the very least, it seems to be important to her and her young charge.

Though, somehow, Harry doesn't get the impression that Emma and Jean's relationship is anything like Zatanna's and Raven. The adoptive sisters are quite close to each other, and while Emma seems fond of Jean, they didn't seem nearly as bonded.

"As such, our community came together to protect ourselves from those who would do us harm. The MACUSA hadn't quite turned against us yet… but there were murmurings. It was decided that it would be better for us to be holding the reins, rather than letting the lunatics run the asylum, so to speak."

Was she trying to lull him to sleep here with her meandering? Frowning, Harry waves his free hand impatiently.

"Politics. Right. Get on with it. You mentioned a Dark Lord."

Emma's eyes flicker up to his, icy for a moment before she smirks once more.

"But of course. I should have known that was what you'd focus on."

Despite her feigned amusement, Emma's expression shutters for a moment, and she lets out a low breath before continuing onward, her hands still pushing her tits up and down his length.

"His name is Sebastian Shaw. He is the Black King of the Hellfire Club."

Harry blinks slowly at that, and for a long moment wracks his brain before having to grudgingly admit the truth.

"Never heard of it."

"Heh, no, I don't suppose you would have. The British Wizarding World surely believes the rest of the world revolves around them. Funnily enough, the Hellfire Club actually started life here in the British Isles, back in the eighteen century. However, they were eventually chased out by their political rivals, and forced to reorganize and set down roots in America. The Hellfire Club I speak of today is completely disconnected from Magical British Interests… so of course, you would have no idea of its existence."

It feels like Emma's talking down to him, but it's a little hard to be mad about that when she's in fact on her knees, stuffing his cock down the front of her dress between her absolutely stellar breasts. Letting out a low sigh, Harry frowns.

"… What does this Sebastian Shaw want?"

Emma pauses for a moment, as if in consideration. Then, much to Harry's surprise, she pulls back, letting his cock pop free of her cleavage. It springs up and very nearly smacks Emma in the face, but she manages to avoid it. The sudden movement makes him grip tighter at his wand, but rather than attack, Emma… pulls down the front of her dress entirely.

Her beautiful, pale breasts come positively flowing out of her top, springing free and bouncing all over the place, before she reaches up and gives them a good, solid grab, squeezing at her own tits and hissing for a moment before leaning forward again. This time around, she wraps her chest around him with his cock pointed up, leaving his dick pushing out of the top of her cleavage, and his balls pressing against the underside of her chest, right up against her heart.

"He wants what all greedy, self-serving men want deep down inside. Power, in every possible form that he can get his hands on it."

As she gives him a frankly expert titjob that feels more like the work of a whore than a Hogwarts Professor, Harry looks down at her, unimpressed with the pointed glance she's also giving him. If she's hoping to make him feel guilty for accepting her offer of incentive in order to hear her out… it's not happening. For starters, she's the one who brought it up. And secondly, she and her charge had assaulted him first. He wasn't going to let her guilt trip him now.

Perhaps sensing this, Emma ducks her head as if to concede the point and continues on, demurring as she explains further while continuing to pleasure him with her chest.

"Shaw and I joined the Hellfire Club at the same time. We took it over together as well, when we found out that the leader of the time was planning to help pass legislation through MACUSA that would have put hefty restrictions on natural Legilimens. We put a stop to that, protecting our people."

Here, Emma's lips thin out and she looks up at Harry with a glare, as if daring him to try and disagree with her next words.

"I will do anything to protect me and mine, Lord Potter-Black. I want to make that absolutely clear."

Clenching his jaw, Harry nods, accepting that much to be true, at least. Certainly, Emma was doing quite a bit at the moment to try and plead hers and Jean's case.

"As the Black King, Shaw's influence is second to none. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, and the legitimate magical government in the States won't do anything to stop him. Rather, they're more likely to help him. They DID help him, when word of Jean's talent got to the authorities."

At this, Emma glances over to the still stunned red-head, her gaze actually softening as she glances at Jean over the lip of the table.

"… Her parents did a good enough job of keeping Jean's nature under wraps for a long time. They taught her to hide it. Not that she was a natural Legilimens, because that was to be expected when both of her parents were natural Legilimens as well. But her ability to bypass all Occlumency shields…"

Emma trails off for a moment, before looking back to Harry, something disgusted crossing her face.

"When they heard that Sebastian and I had taken over the Hellfire Club and made it a haven for our kind, they thought they'd found salvation for Jean. They brought her to us willingly. And in return, Shaw had them both killed, so we could take custody of the girl ourselves."

Growing agitated, Emma begins to shift her breasts up and down his cock a bit more aggressively. The friction is pleasurable enough though, and her sizable bust makes for a great love tunnel even as she paints quite the grim picture.

"Let me assure you… I have raised that girl as my own. But when I found out what Shaw did to her parents, and more than that, what he intended to do with her, if she remained in his clutches… I knew I could no longer abide, that we had to leave."

Harry slowly nods.

"And so you came here."

Emma's smile isn't quite a smirk anymore, but something twisted as she sighs.

"Yes. You're getting close, aren't you?"

Seeing no reason to lie to her, he nods again.

"I am."

"Then please, cover me in your cum, and let there be no further conflict between us. I promise, I will not attempt to attack you. I will not let Jean attempt to attack you. Allow me to make up for our poor first impression by being a canvas upon which you paint your seed."

Well now, she certainly had a way with words, didn't she? As Emma speaks, she also continues to move, sliding her tits up and down his cock all the faster. But the icing on the cake, and what truly tips him over the edge, is when she leans forward and punctuates her statement by wrapping those beautiful lips of hers around his tip and swirling her tongue around the head of his cock.

Grunting, Harry cums a moment later, and true to her word, Emma leans back. The Astronomy Professor pulls back just enough to let him cum all over her face and tits, not so much as flinching as he coats her from brow to chest in his white, hot seed.

Once he's done, Emma finally pulls back entirely, letting her breasts finally drop away from his cock as she rocks back on her knees. For a moment, she hesitates… then, stoic and as composed as ever, she slowly pulls up her dress over her tits, even soaked in his cum as they are. Then, she rises, still wearing his seed across her face.

It's obvious that she intends to continue to wear it for as long as they interact, as a sign of her penance. But Harry isn't the sort of man who needs that sort of revenge, truth be told. He's not the sort to seek Power in all its many forms, as she'd said before.

"You can clean yourself up."

His words catch her by surprise on her way back to her seat. She looks at him for a long moment, before cautiously reaching for her wand and cleaning herself off with a quick charm. Only then does she retake her chair, sitting poised on the edge of it, her legs crossed over one another. Her eyes glance to Jean, and it's obvious she wants to wake the girl up.

"… Shall we continue our conversation, Harry? And if it pleases you, could we bring Jean into matters? Her perspective is quite valuable, to the rest of my tale."

Harry frowns, as he looks at the red head. Jean Grey is cute, and unassuming, and altogether has never seemed particularly evil to him. But even still…

"She would be able to read my mind."

"Yes. Mine as well. Only surface level thoughts, mind you. Occlumency doesn't work against her as a barrier, but rather like a maze. If she reaches deep enough, you'll know, I assure you. But otherwise… yes. She'll hear what you're thinking in the immediate, even if she won't be able to plumb every last secret from your skull."

Emma pauses, and then sends a sharp look in Jean's direction.

"She is also supposed to be working on her self-control at the moment. She can choose NOT to read the thoughts of every person around her, if she works at it. I would appreciate it if you gave her another opportunity to practice in an environment with… natural consequences to her failure."

It's a lot to ask. Harry definitely doesn't like the idea of having anyone in his head. He can keep Emma out, but not Jean. However, he can tell when Jean is in his head, so based on that, Emma's request might make sense. Part of him wants to reject the idea out of hand. Part of him wants to hear more. Probably his Saving People thing, admittedly.

Still… to leave her unconscious, or wake her up…

Chapter 25: Emma Frost & Jean Grey Pt. 3

Sitting there, Harry feels… not quite at ease, but comfortable enough to relax again, at least a little bit. After everything that's happened so far, he doesn't feel bad about his initial reaction per say, but he does feel as if he can let his guard down somewhat. More than anything… the situation isn't as bad as he initially thought it was. And Emma is right. An environment with, heh, natural consequences, was exactly what Ms. Grey needed.

Nodding his head and waving his hand magnanimously, Harry gestures to the unconscious red head.

"Go ahead. I leave her training in your capable hands, Emma."

Smiling an icy smile that nevertheless holds a hint of gratitude to it, the blonde Astronomy Professor takes up her wand and points it at Jean, speaking clearly and concisely.

"Rennervate."

The counter to the Stunning Spell works perfectly of course, washing over Jean and making her come back alive with a gasp of inhaled air. Before she can so much as react, Emma is reaching over and grabbing the younger witch by her chin, forcing her to look her in her eyes.

"Eyes on me, Jean. Nowhere else. Focus on me. Get yourself under control. You were Stunned for daring to peer into Lord Potter-Black's thoughts without permission. He caught you and acted accordingly. Now you will control yourself, and refrain from abusing your gift any further this evening."

Emma pauses, as Jean's breathing quickens before leveling out.

"Am I understood?"

Jean shakily nods, biting back a whimper.

"Y-Yes, Mistress Frost."

Here, Emma scowls for half a beat, letting go of Jean's chin and sitting back in her chair in a way that makes her breasts, once more contained in her clothing, jiggle enticingly.

"What have I told you, Jean?"

Startling, Jean blushes and ducks her head.

"S-Sorry. Professor Frost…"

"Good girl."

With that, a quiet falls over the table for a moment. Jean's eyes flicker over to his for a brief moment, but Harry is looking for it, ready for it. He doesn't feel her strange form of natural Legilimency bypassing his defenses and ransacking his mind. She really is reining it in and controlling herself, which is… good.

Of course, from the red-hot blush across her face, damn near the color of her own hair, it's obvious she caught some of Emma's thoughts before she managed to slam down on her own Legilimency. Some recent… memories, perhaps? Of titfucking his cock, and wearing his hot, sticky seed all over her face and chest?

Harry can't help but be a little amused, as Jean averts her eyes hastily, looking down at the table and nowhere else. In the end, Emma lets out a low sigh.

"We really must work on your social skills, Jean. You shouldn't require the use of your gift to communicate with other people without completely losing your confidence. Unfortunately, I recognize that Sebastian encouraged the abuse of your gift all your life and left you as you are today. But as we well know, his… advice is tainted. As a matter of fact, Sebastian is what Lord Potter-Black and I spoke of, while you were out."

Jean's head leaps up at that, her eyes focusing on Emma.

"M-Master Shaw?"

There's a very real fear to the red-head's tone then. The natural Legilimens is scared of Sebastian Shaw. VERY scared of him. But then, to be fair, from what Emma had told him, this man was apparently another Dark Lord, just like Voldemort. And given how much fear Lord Voldemort had struck into the hearts of the Wizarding World, even long after his supposed first death… yeah, it made sense.

"He does not deserve a title of respect from you, Jean. He is not your Master anymore. You are no longer his servant. But… yes. I was explaining to Harry why exactly we fled from America and came here, to Hogwarts, in the first place. The better for him to potentially help us, you see."

Jean once again sneaks a glance over at him, a tentative, hesitant smile on her lips. She's a nervous young thing, especially when she's not able to read his mind, it would seem. Harry decides on an encouraging smile back, giving her a nod. But even that much acknowledgment is too much for the young Legilimens.

"Jean… if you will, please tell Harry about your experiences with Shaw. I think hearing what happened from your perspective will help him come to a decision much easier."

"A-Alright. Um… Mas-er, Sebastian… he took an interest in me very early on. I thought he l-loved me, as a f-father, though in hindsight, the fact that he always stayed out of my range growing up makes it obvious how w-wary he was of me…"

Jean pauses for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as she collects her thoughts. Then…

"Eventually, I was supposed to have my gift under control. And so, he started spending more time with me, started coming closer to me. And I… I ate it all up. But then he started talking about my future, about our future. He started talking about what sort of… of c-children, I would have…"

As Jean speaks, still staring at the table, Harry glances over to see Emma's reaction. The icy blonde's eyes are flinty, and her lips pursed into a thin line. When he makes eye contact with her, she sharply nods, as if to confirm what Jean is saying.

"He couched it in such pretty terms, but… I didn't want to live in a cage all my life. I saw enough of the outside world to be curious. And when I brought it up, he d-didn't like it. That's when I… that's when I hatched my plan."

Harry cocked his head to the side, somewhat able to see where this was going. But if HE, with his Occlumency shields, could detect Jean's natural Legilimency, then how…

"I snuck into Sebastian's room while he was sleeping and used my gift on him. I saw everything, including his decision to have my parents, my real parents, killed. And I saw… I saw his plans for me."

Here, Jean begins to shake, hugging herself and shivering. Harry half-expects Emma to move over and hug the girl, but… well, the blonde is clearly not altogether the touchy feely type. She does reach over and place a hand on Jean's shoulder however, and that seems to do the trick, comforting the red head enough that the tension and shaking actually begins to relax. Jean shoots Emma a grateful smile before finally looking at Harry with some small measure of confidence.

He's beginning to suspect that Emma didn't just touch Jean, but also spoke to her mentally, bolstering the younger witch's mind with whatever words of wisdom she had for her.

"But, even as horrified as I was… I did notice that P-Professor Frost wasn't in any of his memories. She wasn't involved in his… plans. I realized… he planned to get rid of her, specifically so she couldn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted with me."

Glancing to Emma with an adoring smile that makes the frigid woman squirm in discomfort, Jean sighs.

"So I went to her for help. And together, we escaped from Sebastian and the Hellfire Club and came here, to Hogwarts. B-But… I know what I saw in his mind. I know the Black King will never let me go. I cannot truly live, while he still hounds me."

Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.

It's not precisely the language of the prophecy Harry had found himself saddled with, but it's close enough to very nearly make him flinch. Her words, combined with her heartfelt tone… Harry lets out a sigh, and slowly nods.

"What would you have me do?"

Both Jean and Emma seem somewhat surprised by his sudden acquiescence. They clearly didn't know him very well, beyond his track record against Dark Lords. Because… really, was there ever any question he was going to help them out? Sure, he had his own problems, but from the sound of things, said problems might not be entirely unconnected. Was it possible that Zatanna and Raven were chased out of America by this Sebastian Shaw's stooges, perhaps?

Regardless, Harry looks between Jean and Emma, only for Emma to clear her throat and speak up.

"It's not as if we expect you to go to America and take the fight to Shaw, or anything like that. That would be ridiculous. But… we did come to Hogwarts out of the belief that we would potentially be safe here, under the aegis of protection provided by your presence. If that is not the case, if you will not defend the inhabitants of this school, namely us, from any that might come seeking us… then say so now, so I might begin making plans for our departure."

Emma sits straight-backed and altogether poised by the time she's done speaking, and somewhat amusingly, Jean is subconsciously doing the same. Both of them are watching him carefully, and once again Harry has to check to make sure Jean hasn't slipped up and started reading his mind again, given how intensely she's staring at him. But no, he senses nothing of her presence.

"… I will do everything in my power to protect the people of Hogwarts, for as long as I walk these halls. That, you can count on. You have my word."

Both witches slump in relief, their shoulders falling. Jean even lets out a happy little sigh, before looking a little worried and speaking up all of the sudden.

"A-And what do you require of us in return for your protection, my Lord?"

Emma's gives the younger witch a sharp glance at that, but before she can rebuke Jean for her question, Harry just smiles and shakes his head, now confident that the red haired natural Legilimens had seen something of what Emma and he did together while she was unconscious from her mentor's mind.

"Nothing. My protection comes with no strings attached. It is freely given. So long as you two do not betray my trust or seek to harm me or mine in anyway, we will have no problems."

He considers utilizing this information they've given him to pull them both into his own sordid schemes. That was the point of all this from his end, was it not? But unlike Zatanna and Raven, it doesn't feel like he's actually doing anything for Emma or Jean. Not yet, at least. He'll have to keep an eye on things, but whereas Zatanna and Raven needed his direct help, Emma and Jean are just using him as a sort of stopgap measure against those hunting for them.

And how long will that last, really? Sure, he dealt with Lord Voldemort… but all things considered, Harry has to wonder how much 'street cred' that really gives him in the greater world at large. In Britain's Wizarding World he might be the Man Who Won, but outside of the United Kingdom, who was to say he was anyone special?

Well, the Lodge of Sorceresses, apparently. And even Emma and Jean's choice to come here to Hogwarts said as much. Still, Harry didn't expect this 'Black King' to stay away forever, solely on the strength of his reputation. Eventually, Sebastian Shaw would strike, and Harry would have to be ready. To that end…

"There is one thing."

Both Emma and Jean tense up, but whatever they're expecting him to ask of him, it's not what he actually asks.

"I would appreciate it if you both kept your eyes and ears open for me. I am not asking you to go around reading minds, to be clear. There are plenty of individuals in this castle who are just as good if not better at Occlumency then I am, and you do not want to run afoul of them. At the same time, I know that not everyone in Hogwarts has my best interests at heart. If you can keep me appraised of anything you might hear or see that pertains to me, I would consider us more than even."

His explanation puts them both at ease once more. They seem surprised that he's asking for so little, but to Harry it only seems fair. After all, he's not out to bend them both over a barrel or anything like that. The start of this encounter might have gone poorly to say the least, and yes, he'd extracted some satisfaction from Professor Frost to assuage his wounded ego, but now… now it was all water under the bridge. And he wasn't the sort of man to abuse the power and influence he had over anyone, not if he could help it.

Receiving noises of agreement from both American witches, the rest of their meal goes pleasantly enough. In the end, Harry retires to his chambers for the night and gets a good night sleep. He might not have gained actual allies from the conversation with Emma and Jean, but it was better than nothing, he supposed.

-x-X-x-

Of course, the next night, before he can even begin deciding who exactly to approach next in what way, there's a knock on the door to his chambers, and when Harry opens it up, he finds Jean Grey standing on the other side. The red head has a look on her face that Harry is rapidly becoming familiar with, and after making sure she's not in his head, he wordlessly lets her in.

When she takes him by the hand and guides him over to the bed, he allows her to do so. When she sits him down and then gracefully descends to her knees between his legs, he still doesn't speak. He's not about to stop her, he finds. Not from making her own choices. Glancing between his face and his crotch, Jean blushes, bites her lower lip, and reaches out to fiddle with his pants, hesitantly getting them open and extracting his member from its confines.

She wraps both hands around his shaft, seeming unsurprised by the sight of it. But then, if she had in fact seen Emma's point of view of their… engagement with one another, she wouldn't be surprised, now, would she?

Licking her lips, Jean fidgets and squirms in the silence Harry is providing. Then, finally, she looks up at him.

"I-If it pleases you, my Lord… I would request permission to access only the surface level of your thoughts. If you allow me a light probe, I can make this experience MUCH more pleasurable for you, by feeding off of your enjoyment of what I'm doing. I'll… know exactly what you like and be able to make everything feel a lot better."

Hm, a compelling argument to be sure. Though it seemed she'd come to the conclusion that she didn't even need to ask if they were doing this first. But then, to be fair, he'd given her every indication that he wasn't going to send her away. And… he wasn't, if Harry was being honest with himself. Which just left him with the decision of whether to let Jean into his head to make the experience more pleasurable, or whether he would rebuke her, and force her to fumble around in the dark like every other woman who had come to him before her.

Chapter 26: Jean Grey

After considering it a moment, Harry gives Jean a smile and a nod.

"Go ahead."

He feels her reach out a moment later, tentative and hesitant. Not because she needs to wait for him to bring down his Occlumency defenses, but for the exact opposite reason. His Occlumency remains as strong as ever, but Jean's monstrous talent with natural Legilimency, and her specific ability to bypass all such defenses, means that it doesn't matter.

One moment, she's not in his head, the next she is, and there's frankly nothing Harry can do about it. He could attack her, of course, but he wouldn't. And he could tell, she wasn't going to go any deeper. Just like she'd said, she stays on the surface of his thoughts, the primal part of him that's enjoying the feel of her hands on his shaft and a beautiful red head submissively kneeling between his legs.

Picking up on this, Jean blushes and a small, appreciative smile flickers across her face. Then, looking up into his eyes, she opens her mouth wide and proceeds to take him past her lips. Harry groans, as the young witch swallows him whole. Her tongue immediately begins swishing and flicking this way and that.

It's nothing like the experience he'd had with Professor Emma Frost, to be fair. The Astronomy Instructor had been so very assured of herself, incredibly confident in her own sexuality, and hadn't even hesitated to try and pleasure him in her own way. That way had involved her tits, but from the look of things, Jean didn't have the same faith in her own bust as Emma had in hers.

To be fair, the blonde was a bit more buxom than Jean was… but Jean's breasts were nothing to scoff at, in Harry's opinion.

Flushing a bit more at that, Jean's eyes flicker from his face down to her bust. After a moment, she pops back off of his cock and gives him a hopeful smile… as she promptly shucks her shirt over her head, letting her breasts, completely naked and bra-free, bounce and jiggle a little bit.

There's not enough there for her to wrap around his cock, not enough there for her to stuff his shaft down her cleavage like Emma had. But they're still a spectacular pair of titties and watching Jean grope and squeeze at them as she goes back to sucking him off definitely does a lot for Harry. But then, that's rather the point, isn't it?"

The slight bob of her head as he thinks that may have been a nod of acknowledgment, or just her slurping up and down his cock. Still, the proof is in the pudding, as they like to say. Jean Grey is utilizing her limited access to the surface level of his mind to very much enhance this experience, just as she'd promised she would. She's following along with his every whim and desire, eager to serve, eager to submit, eager to please.

Pulling off of his cock for a moment, Jean's tongue wiggles along Harry's glans for a moment, before she gives him a coy smile that's at least half-feigned.

"A-Are you enjoying my submissive mouth, Master?"

Harry startles at that, and Jean blushes furiously a moment later, quickly backpedaling.

"S-Sorry! U-Um, I must have misunderstood!"

She quickly goes back to sucking him off, as if to make him forget the interaction even happened. But of course, that's not happening. Still, Harry doesn't mind, he finds after a moment. And in response to that thought, Jean bobs up and down on his knob a bit faster. Obviously, she'd catch some glimpse that he was into that sort of thing from his surface level thoughts and tried to make him happier with her.

It was just… well, Harry had never really viewed himself in that way, but there was some truth to it, wasn't there? This might have been the first time any woman outright called him 'Master', but he did get off a bit on respect, control, and domination, didn't he?

Pulling back off of his cock again, Jean strokes it up and down as she gives him a serious, heartfelt look.

"There's nothing wrong with that, sir. You're not a bad man, my Lord. Trust me… I know bad men."

Harry flushes, which in turn makes Jean flush and again return her mouth to his cock out of embarrassment. They're the same age, but there's no denying that he's got a leg up on her. A Professor already, while she's just an Assistant Professor. Still, that doesn't necessarily mean he should be in charge of her. But… this is bedroom play. So, it was fine to lean into it, right?

Jean's eyes twinkle with excitement and agreement, as Harry reaches out and places a hand upon her head.

"Don't stop. I'm getting close."

His voice, gruff and hoarse with need, spurs Jean on further. The natural Legilimens bobs up and down his cock, having no intentions of pulling away as he closes in on an orgasm. But then, she can see exactly what he's thinking… an image of her, in his mind's eye.

A groan leaves Harry's lips. He doesn't have to warn her further about his impending release, not when she can read it from his surface thoughts. Jean times it perfectly, and at the last second pulls back and angles her face up, allowing him to cum all over her face and her naked young tits, right there on the spot. He coats her pretty, nubile front in his seed, and she takes every last drop.

By the time he's done, she's a sticky mess, but it doesn't stop there. Moaning throatily, Jean makes a show of rubbing her hands across her messy front, her tongue trailing out to lick his cum off from around her mouth. She looks up at him from beneath cum-glazed lashes.

"Do I have Master's permission to clean myself up?"

Harry soaks in the view for a moment longer, before finally giving a wordless nod. With a bit of magic, Jean is as pristine as she was moments before. But the memory of her, covered from her forehead to her tits in his cum, would be with Harry forever. Especially because magic allowed for wizards and witches to perfectly preserve their memories via pensieves as well.

Regardless, once she's cleaned off, Jean stands up and reaches for the waistband of her pants, before freezing in place and blushing at the errant thought that comes to Harry's mind.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry sir. Um… would you like to fuck me now, Master? Should I strip for you?"

His cock twitches at her questions. Yeah, they're going to fuck. But it's also nice that she asks, submissively and needily and all that. Standing up, Harry considers Jean Grey for a moment. The natural Legilimens is still in his mind, still restricting herself to just the surface level. At least he would know, if she weren't. And she's standing in front of him, wearing a pair of muggle jeans and nothing else.

Grabbing her by the waist, Harry acts mostly on instinct. He pulls Jean into a kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth. She tenses for a moment, before moaning and melting against him. Together, they work open her pants and pull them down, along with her panties. They kick them off of her legs, before moving over to Harry's body, where they work off his clothes as well.

Soon enough, the two of them are both naked, clad in nothing but their birthday suits. His cock is hard again, because how can it not be when there's a sexy, hot red head like Jean right in front of him? Of course, hearing his constant internal compliments on the surface level of his mind only turns Jean on more, encouraging her to go further as they kiss and make out and molest one another.

Finally, Harry yanks Jean by the hips over to the bed. She lands with an 'oomph!' as the air is expelled from her lungs, blushing as he climbs on after her. She knows precisely what he intends to do to her and offers up no resistance as he spreads her legs wide, as his cock presses down into her drooling wet quim. Instead, she just cries out and wraps her limbs around Harry's torso, as he fucks her right there on the bed in a mating press.

"Fuck… Jean…"

"Mm, Master~"

Part of him wonders if this is really alright. Wasn't the whole problem that brought Jean and Emma across the pond in the first place that Sebastian Shaw wanted to 'own' Jean, wanted to 'use' her. But Jean just tightens her grip around him at that thought, holding him to her, leaving him no choice but to continue fucking her.

"You're not like him, Harry. You're nothing like him…"

Well, that was a nice vote of confidence, Harry supposed. Emerald eyes glittering, he looks down into Jean's eyes for a moment, smiling crookedly at her as his cock continues to plunge in and out of her sex.

"You'll let me know if I start heading down that path, alright? I'll be relying on your experience here."

Jean's own wide eyes stare back at him as she nods rapidly. Then, they rejoin one another in a lover's embrace, Harry burying his face in Jean's hair, and her in turn breathing in his scent as she buries her own face in the crook of his neck.

Heh, it was rather funny, to go from Stunning her and knocking her out to asking her to be his Moral Compass in the course of a day. But after hearing her story, Harry felt like he had a pretty good read on Jean Grey. More than that, there was something about burying himself ball's deep in the girl that definitely helped improve their relationship, perhaps a dozen fold.

Harry needed allies, there was no denying that. Hogwarts might have been a safe haven for Emma and Jean, but that didn't mean it was a safe haven for him. But at the same time… he needed friends, more than anything. He and Ron's paths had diverged, as regrettable as that might be. Meanwhile, he and Hermione were… fucking on the regular, but even she wasn't exactly operating on his level at the moment.

When Harry looked back over the course of the last several years of his life, he had to admit, he'd kept his social circle unfortunately limited. He had plenty of acquaintances, but actual, close personal friends? He could count them on one hand, in truth. And that… that wasn't right.

He wasn't going to beat the Lodge of Sorceresses with the Power of Friendship or anything as inane or asinine as all that, but that didn't mean he should ignore the potential of creating deeper, more meaningful bonds with the people he was currently recruiting as his allies, now, did it?

He's getting close again. Pistoning in and out of Jean all the harder, all the faster, as the red-haired witch moans underneath him. He's uncertain of whether to cum inside or not, but when he meets her eyes, the natural Legilimens is quick to answer the unspoken question.

"I-It's fine… fill me up, M-Master~"

Hearing that from those lips is more than enough to send Harry right over the edge. He lets out a loud groan and spills his seed inside of her right then and there. Filling her to the brim and then some, he grunts as he eventually finishes and slumps off to the side. When Jean curls into his side a moment later, cuddling close, Harry doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her and pull her further in. And when her hand comes up and brushes across his heaving chest, he finds his other hand moving to meet it, their fingers lacing together as they slowly fall to sleep in one another's arms.

-x-X-x-

Jean is gone in the morning, though not before leaving a note thanking him for giving her a chance to properly apologize. She doesn't call him 'Master' in the note, thankfully, but she does use 'sir' more than once. As Harry stares down at it, he finds himself thinking over the past little while. He's been going to an awful lot of trouble to look for allies and friends in odd places, recently.

But maybe it's time he turn his sights to those a bit closer to home? Specifically, there are a few witches on the much-changed Hogwarts Faculty who Harry knows from before all of this. Women who had been part of his world for a little while longer. Going over what he knows, Harry frowns as he considers his options.

The Ancient Runes Professor… is Narcissa Malfoy. Now, if not for the help of Draco's mother, they might not have beaten Voldemort. In that regard, Harry supposed he had no reason to distrust or dislike Narcissa Malfoy. On the other hand, she was a Pureblood Lady who had profited off of Lucius Malfoy's fuckery for decades.

Harry could stomach a little redemption for Draco. He could perhaps even bring himself to forgive Narcissa. But having her as an ally? Well, he supposed she DID owe him.

On the other hand, Penelope Clearwater, the Muggle Studies Professor, was the opposite problem. Not objectionable in the least, she was a muggleborn witch who had survived the horrors of Voldemort's Second Rise and comported herself well enough to land the job here at Hogwarts. But at the same time, Harry didn't really know her. He had absolutely no personal connection with her.

Then… there were the Vixens. The Flying Vixens, to be exact. Angelina Johnson was the Hogwarts' Flying Instructor now and had Katie and Alicia supporting her. Harry had a LOT of history with those three girls, given he'd spent years on the same Quidditch Team as the trio. But was too much history potentially a bad thing here? He'd only been Team Captain after the three were graduated and gone. Could he expect them to respect him, or would he always be young Harry to them?

He'd established in roads with some of the Americans, but now Harry felt like it was definitely time to reach out in a direction closer to home. The only question left to answer was which of his three options were best.

Chapter 27: Narcissa Malfoy

One might suspect that the moment Harry has made his choice, he'll go about implementing it. But he likes to think he's getting a little better at taking a step back and assessing his options. As such, after deciding that Narcissa Malfoy would be the Hogwarts Native he would approach, Harry had NOT gone on to immediately set up a meeting with the Ancient Ruins Professor and Lady of House Malfoy.

Instead, he'd pulled Nymphadora Tonks aside, hoping to get some information from her first. After all, Narcissa Malfoy WAS Tonks' aunt, the sister of Andromeda Tonks, and so he figured the Hogwarts Caretaker should have some information for him.

Of course, Tonks was just happy to get some time alone with him, and before he could even really get around to WHY he had approached her, Harry found himself on his back, getting ridden by the gorgeous metamorphmagus. It would seem, at least from what he could see, that Tonks was still sporting a little bit of a complex over how her mother had been cockblocking her earlier in the year.

Regardless, with his hands on Tonks' hips, he thrusts up into her from below, while in turn the beautiful witch moans wantonly, bouncing up and down on his cock like she was born to ride it. Certainly, her body is currently fuckable in all the best ways, from the way her cunt is milking him for all its worth, to the larger breasts and widened hips she's given herself.

There's no denying Harry is enjoying the ride, to be clear. But at the same time, he DID approach Tonks for a reason, and that reason wasn't sex.

"Tonks…"

"Oooh, Harry~ You feel so good inside of me. Mm, keep it up. Don't stop now!"

He had no intentions of stopping… unless Tonks proved utterly incapable of multitasking. Frowning, he grips a little harder at her pillowy hips.

"Tonks!"

But she just moans at the tightened grip, still gyrating her hips around on his cock. Rolling his eyes, Harry grunts… and promptly slams Tonks onto her back. To be fair, they're on a bed, so it's not like she incurs any further injury than having the breath knocked from her lungs a little bit. Switching positions, pushing her down onto the bed and taking the spot on top, Harry pins Tonks in place with his hands holding her wrists above her head.

"I need your help, Tonks."

Blinking owlishly, a soft mewl on her lips, Tonks has the good grace to at least look abashed as she squirms under him for a moment before going mostly still. He's still buried inside of her, but the metamorph just nods quietly, to show she's listening.

"I've been making in roads with the Americans. I can safely say I've got Professor Zatara and her assistant Raven fully on my side. Meanwhile, Professor Frost and her assistant Jean are… mostly on board. That said, I thought I'd turn my attention a little closer to home. Namely, by approaching Narcissa Malfoy next."

Tonks' face scrunches up at that, and it's immediately obvious the metamorph isn't exactly impressed with his choice.

"Ugh, do you have to? Of all my living aunts, she's my least favorite. And considering the other one is Yennefer…"

Harry blinks at that, brow furrowing in surprise.

"Wait, Yennefer is your aunt?"

Why hadn't Andromeda or Nymphadora mentioned that before? That seemed like crucial information, didn't it? But Tonks is quick to shake her head.

"Oh, sorry, no… I just grew up with my mother so far under the Lodge's thumb that Yennefer was like an aunt to me. No blood relation, Yennefer isn't a Black witch as far as I know. Still… even she's better than Narcissa, don't you think? And Ciri IS still hanging around you know…"

Harry rolls his eyes at the mention of Yennefer's adoptive daughter. Tonks had told him about her already, and Harry had ultimately decided against taking that particular bait. Like the metamorph herself had postulated, it was almost certainly a gambit on Yennefer's part. He wasn't planning on falling for such an obvious trap. Even if he HAD caught a glimpse of Ciri by this point and could admit that the ashen-haired girl was indisputably beautiful.

"I'm not just going to hand myself over to the Lodge of Sorceresses, Tonks. The idea is that I build my own powerbase before confronting them, right? Stumbling headfirst into their schemes seems counterproductive to that."

Tonks reluctantly nods, her naked bust still heaving with panting breaths as she lays beneath him, his cock buried inside of her. After a long moment, Harry finally begins moving again, albeit slowly to keep Tonks focused on the conversation at hand.

"S-Still… you don't want them to think you've caught on. Maybe… maybe going in with both eyes open wouldn't be so bad, r-right?"

She might have a point. But Harry can tell Tonks is only saying what she's saying to get him off of Narcissa, and he's already made up his mind on that front. So, shaking his head, he gives Tonks a stern look.

"I asked you here for help with your actual aunt, Tonks. If you can't do that… we can be done for the day, I suppose."

"N-No! I'll help!"

Even as the metamorph whines, she's bringing her legs up and winding them around his waist, pulling him in ever closer. Grunting, Harry chuckles.

"Good. Then how should I approach her?"

For a long moment, Tonks is quiet. Harry almost starts to slow down again, thinking that the witch might be milking this for all she can while also going on a silent strike of some kind. But no, after a beat, she finally clears her throat.

"C-Carefully… but also firmly. You can't… you can't let her control the narrative, Harry."

Furrowing his brow at that, Harry cocks his head to the side.

"Control the narrative? You make her sound like some sort of mastermind, Tonks. She's the housewife of the Black Sisters. Don't you think you're giving her too much credit?"

Biting her lower lip, Tonks groans as he hits a particularly deep part of her.

"Nngh… no, you're underestimating her. She's… she's so much more than that. She's the Black Sister… who snared Lucius Malfoy."

That was… hm, that WAS another way to look at it. And frankly, Harry's first impression of Narcissa Malfoy HAD been under rather trying circumstances. He hadn't had any other truly meaningful interactions with her besides that moment in time where she'd begged him to save her son. In that regard, Harry supposed he had only truly known Narcissa Malfoy at her weakest and most vulnerable, hadn't he?

Now… now she was in a much stronger position. Thanks in no small part to a good word from Harry himself, only Lucius Malfoy had gone to Azkaban in the wake of the Dark Lord's defeat. Narcissa and Draco had both gotten out with a veritable slap on the wrist by comparison. They'd paid a sizable fine, one that had probably done enough damage to their finances to prompt Narcissa taking the job at Hogwarts this year, but beyond that, they had their freedom.

In the end, Harry decides it's good advice. And so, he stops interrogating Tonks, and starts fucking her again. The metamorphmagus seems equal parts relieved and appreciate of that fact and moans up a storm as she clings to him with all four limbs, holding him to her as he fucks her into the bed for a while longer before they finish up.

Tomorrow… tomorrow, he would pay Narcissa Malfoy a visit.

-x-X-x-

Unlike with the others, he doesn't arrange a meeting with the Ancient Runes Professor after hours or on the weekend or anything like that. Instead, he makes his way across Hogwarts from his office to hers after classes are done for the day and before dinner can begin. Thanks to the Marauder's Map, he knows precisely when she's completely alone, with no one around to be a bother.

That's when he strides into her classroom, a confident smile on his lips and his head held high. He's not coming to her hat in hand as a student, but rather as a peer and equal, Professor to Professor. Of course, when she sees him, the Lady Malfoy immediately stiffens up, seeming to take something else from his unannounced presence.

"Lord Potter-Black."

Harry raises an eyebrow at that, even as Narcissa stands from her desk and sweeps around to meet him in front of it. He has to admit, she's looking quite good these days. Not that he hadn't already noticed in the time since they'd both been working here at Hogwarts, but he hadn't really taken a moment to truly process the difference between his first meeting with the Lady Malfoy and now.

That night… well, neither of them had been at their best. He had just been struck down by Voldemort, again, and she had been damn near desperate with worry for her son. All in all, desperation was not a good look on Narcissa Malfoy. She looked quite a bit nicer now, wearing a dark green dress that hugs her curves.

"Professor Malfoy."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the Ancient Runes Professor thins out her lips, her eyes flickering at his form of address for her. After a beat, she inclines her head ever so slightly.

"… Professor Potter-Black."

Grinning, cheerful as can be and keeping Tonks' words in mind, Harry shakes his head as he moves over to lean on a nearby desk.

"Just Professor Potter, please. Too many hyphens and I start to itch like crazy."

The carefree tone he takes with her definitely seems to annoy Narcissa, at least a little. Or maybe it's his perceived disregard for the Black name that she thinks he's showing at the moment. Harry will always hold nothing but love in his heart for his godfather, and for Sirius he'll happily hold dominion over the Black family, even if that means going by Lord Potter-Black… but in truth, he has no love for House Black in general. Certainly not after all they put Sirius through.

Narcissa, on the other hand, had been born into the Black Family. And once upon a time, she had most definitely anticipated Draco inheriting the mantle of Lord Black as well as Lord Malfoy, thanks to his claim via her blood.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Draco would be Lord Malfoy… but he would never be Lord Black. Not so long as Harry still drew breath. Hm, should he be worried by that thought? No, it was probably fine…

"Professor Potter, then. I've been anticipating this meeting."

Narcissa's tone sounds less conniving and manipulative, as Tonks had assured him the older witch would be, and more… exasperated and overwrought. Harry can't help but simply raise an eyebrow in response, not quite sure what she's talking about.

At his silence, Narcissa looks almost pained, and with a sigh reaches up and begins unbuttoning the top of her dress. Taken aback, Harry remains silent, even as the older witch proceeds to expose herself to him. Her dress, which had started up buttoned all the way to her neck, swiftly comes undone off her shoulders, exposing her pale flesh inch by inch.

As she half-strips for him, Narcissa steps forward, one foot in front of the other, swaying her hips as she goes. Tonks' warning comes back to him now. She'd told him to be careful, to not allow Narcissa to control the narrative. Except… something about this feels less seductive and more desperate, in Harry's eyes. He's not entirely sure what's going on here… until Narcissa finally spells it out for him.

"I promise, Professor… whatever my son has done, I am more than ready to make it up to you."

Dropping to her knees in front of him, the Pureblood Purist seems all too ready to debase herself for a Half-Blood wizard like him. Harry would have been baffled by this, if he didn't already know precisely what Narcissa's greatest priority was and always would be. Draco Malfoy, her son. Staring up at him, the older witch reaches into his robes, her tits out and fully on display as she prepares to extract his cock.

Harry almost lets her… but no, he can't bring himself to just let this happen, not based on a misunderstanding.

"You think this is about Draco?"

Narcissa freezes in place.

"… It's not?"

Eyebrow lifted at the topless witch; Harry shakes his head.

"Your son… has been surprisingly respectful. He hasn't made any trouble, all year long. In fact, I've had more trouble from Daphne Greengrass than Draco."

For a long moment, the incredibly pale MILF just kneels there in front of him, blank-faced and processing that. Finally though, she seems to get it through her skull that he really isn't here to… what, demand sexual favors from her in exchange for leniency for her son? Honestly, did Narcissa think he was a monster?

Realizing what she's done, the older witch promptly scrambles back and rises to her feet, covering herself up as fast as humanly possible, buttoning her dress back up and turning away from him with an inelegant cough as she attempts to hide what she'd already given Harry a long… LONG look at.

"I-I see. I was… I misunderstood. Of course, Draco knows better than to rock the boat. He and I had a long talk before coming to Hogwarts this year about what is and isn't… a-appropriate behavior. I assure you, Professor Potter, he will continue to be one of your best students."

… Sheesh, this was the woman that Tonks had been afraid would try and control the narrative? This was the woman she'd sold to him as dangerous because she'd 'seduced Lucius Malfoy'? Harry rolls his eyes behind Narcissa's back, as the Ancient Runes Professor finally finishes buttoning back up. Whirling back around, she tries in vain to regain some of her previous elegance and grace, sniffing delicately and looking at him with lidded eyes.

"Very well. What DO you want, precisely, Professor?"

Well… what he wanted when he entered the classroom and what he wanted now had actually changed. Because you didn't experience a show like Lady Malfoy just put on without having a reaction, that was for sure. And yet… what did SHE want? Looking at her closely, Harry can see the embarrassment if he really stares. Hidden under the poorly feigned haughty indifference, Narcissa Malfoy is mortified. But more than that… is she disappointed?

He can't help himself. Expecting him to ignore what she just tried to do is far too much. Taking a step forward towards the older woman, Harry gives her a curious smile.

"Never mind what I want, Professor. What do YOU want? Because you jumped to favors quite fast there. There were plenty of ways for you to handle Draco's perceived indiscretions without you being quite so eager to indulge in an indiscretion of your own."

Narcissa freezes in place, like a deer caught in headlights. Harry closes in on her, though he doesn't get so close she couldn't escape, if she wanted to. He stops just outside of her direct personal space, but definitely having entered 'too close for comfort' range, and hums.

"Well, Professor? If you need something from me… all you have to do is ask."

Chapter 28: Narcissa Malfoy Pt. 2

She doesn't say anything, at first. A tremble goes through her though, and after a moment of him standing just inches away from her, just outside of her direct personal space… Narcissa Malfoy slowly sinks back down to her knees. Harry looks down at her, making sure to keep his own expression unreadable, even as she slowly unbuttons again. Taking her tits back out is a good start, but she's silent the entire time, throwing him quick glances but not saying a word.

When she reaches for his robes again, her fingers trembling, Harry decides enough is enough. As her hand closes on his crotch, he casually bats it away, sending a jolt of surprise through her. The older witch looks up at him, eyes wide, but Harry just lifts an eyebrow at her in response, making her flinch back at the look on his face.

"… P-Please…"

Scoffing at that, Harry shakes his head.

"Please… what? Please leave you alone? Please rock your world? You'll have to be a bit clearer, Lady Malfoy."

Her composure shatters at that, as she looks between his crotch and his face, objectively fearful that he WILL leave her alone. Harry still isn't entirely sure what he's stumbled into here… but it seems there's more to Narcissa Malfoy than meets the eye, that much is true.

"Please… r-rock my world…"

The words sound strange coming from the Pureblood Witch. She's clearly never said something like that in her life, but she's also smart enough to intuit what the words mean as she repeats what he'd said. Still, Harry can't help the snort of amusement that leaves his nostrils. Reaching out, he grabs Narcissa by her hair, jerking her head back as she gasps on her knees before him.

"Truly? You'd ask that of a Half-Blood like me?"

He's not just mocking her for the sake of it. He's genuinely curious. And, as Harry stares down into Narcissa's eyes, he realizes he's right to be. There's a flicker there, only for a moment… but at the same time, long enough that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt she does in fact have a problem with his blood status. That part wasn't an act. Narcissa Malfoy was indeed a product of her heritage and marriage, a discriminating, prejudiced Blood Purist through and through.

So then why? Why was he getting this reaction from her? Lips thinned out, eyes narrowed, Harry reaches down with his other hand and frees his cock the rest of the way from its confines. He pulls his throbbing shaft out into the open and proceeds to slap it across Narcissa's face. The older witch gasps, and then to his surprise, moans quite wantonly and even tries to rub her face against his dick in excitement.

"What in Merlin's name is the matter with you, woman?"

The words slip out before Harry can stop them. He's just so… flabbergasted. Draco's mother was acting like a lust-drunk whore. Like a needy little slut, rather than the proud Pureblood Lady he'd thought her to be. Nymphadora had put all that effort into building Narcissa up into this big bad scary witch in his mind, and Harry was trying to keep his perspective, really he was… but this was just so outside the realm of his expectations, it wasn't even funny.

"Please… please!"

With her so insistent, Harry grunts and lets her have at it, bringing her head around so her lips are pressed against his cockhead. Narcissa's mouth opens without question, and she positively consumes his cock, ravenously descending down it's length right there in front of him. A cock-hungry slut, through and through, the Pureblood Witch begins to throat his member right off the start, not even trying to show any semblance of class or decorum.

"Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!"

As he lets her have a go at him, as he loosens his hold on her hair, Narcissa gets more enthusiastic as time goes on. The Ancient Runes Professor brings her hands up and wraps them around his waist, clasping them behind him in a bid to pull him even deeper in. Her eyes water, and tears do stream down her face, but she doesn't seem to care. All that matters to her in that moment is choking down his cock.

She's like a starving woman just presented with an all you can eat buffet, ravenous in the way she inhales his dick without reservation and without hesitation. She'd held herself back initially, but once he gave her the go ahead, she just can't help herself. And yet, as good as it feels, as much as he's enjoying the way she's going to town on his cock, it still leaves Harry with more questions than answers.

Narcissa really had been all too eager to 'make up' for her son's imagined indiscretions. She really had been ready to get down on her knees for him at the drop of a hat. Why was that? What was the game here? Was he being manipulated? If so, it was some of the most ham-fisted manipulation he'd ever seen.

One thing was for certain, he wanted answers. And he wasn't going to get them while Narcissa's mouth was still occupied with his cock. Gritting his teeth, Harry tightens his grip on the older witch's hair again, and begins to take control, fucking the throat of Draco's mother right then and there next to the desk in her own classroom.

"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"

Her eyes flicker up to meet his as he begins to thrust down her gullet, but after a moment, they turn lidded, and she all but surrenders to his domination, submitting with an ease that honestly confuses him even more. But not so much that he doesn't finish the job in short order. His cock, rampaging down her esophagus, pistons in and out of her lips and mouth a few more times before he's finally reaching the point of no return.

"Here it comes, Lady Malfoy. Swallow."

His command is given without a second thought, but it's as much a test as it is an order. The Pureblood witch stiffens, as he begins to cum down her throat right then and there. Her nostrils flare, and her neck ripples as her throat convulses with her attempts to obey. She drinks down his seed, guzzling it as it exits his cockhead, and Harry groans at the very tight, very suctioned feel on the tip of his member.

To her credit… she swallows every last drop. But that in and of itself is just as odd, is it not? A prissy, haughty Pureblood Lady, able to drink down a man's load as if she's a high-class whore? Harry doesn't get Narcissa Malfoy… but he's not about to let her remain a mystery for much longer. The moment he's done filling her belly with his seed, Harry yanks himself out from between her lips.

With his hand still tightly gripping her hair, he yanks Narcissa up off of her knees and pushes her back to her desk. She gasps as she's backed up into it, her hands coming back to clasp at the edge, but Harry doesn't hesitate, advancing on her. He grabs her by her hips and lifts her into the air, taking no time at all to sit her down on her desk right then and there. The Ancient Runes Professor squeaks, a sharp exhalation of air as her tits, still out of her top and completely naked, bounce and jiggle from the impact.

Narcissa instinctively spreads her legs for him, which is good because Harry is already moving into place between them. Hiking up her dress, getting the fabric out of the way as fast as humanly possible, Harry snarls as he tears her panties clean off of her with his bare hands. Despite being a haughty Pureblood, Narcissa doesn't protest. Instead, she lets out a keening, needy sort of noise as his cock slaps down across her slit.

… But Harry doesn't enter her. It's clear from the way she's staring down at where they would be joined in anticipation that she wants him to, but Harry pauses instead, and grabs Narcissa by the nape of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye as he holds actual sex hostage.

"If you want me to fuck you properly, I want answers."

Narcissa stiffens, flushed and panting heatedly as she stares back at him like a hunted animal.

"… V-Very well…"

And yet there it is. She gives in so easily. Scowling, Harry dips just the tip of his cock into her sopping wet folds.

"Explain. Why are you so eager? You continue to look down on me for my Blood Status and don't even try to deny it. And yet…"

Biting her lower lip, ducking her head at the accusation, Narcissa trembles for a moment, before finally speaking.

"I have a d-disease… an affliction, if you w-will. I have… always had these urges, powerful and nigh-uncontrollable. Sexual, in nature. All my life, I have struggled with them."

She couldn't be serious. And yet, Harry could tell she was.

"… I was able to hide my true nature… mostly because both of my sisters drew attention to themselves in other, more explosive fashions."

That tracked. Bellatrix was… well, Bellatrix, and Andromeda was the black sheep before Sirius. In comparison, Narcissa was the good girl, wasn't she? Or at least, her own mental affliction wasn't so out in the open, apparently. Still, this explanation unsettles Harry for another reason.

"… Lucius handled your needs once the two of you married?"

His incredulity is obvious, especially in the way he says her husband's name. The thought of Lucius Malfoy being some sort of… stud behind closed doors disturbs Harry more than he cares to admit. Thankfully, Narcissa blinks and then lets out a startled laugh, shaking her head.

"Ah… no. No, he did not. At least, not directly. He was… kind enough, or perhaps wise enough to manage my indiscretions so as to keep them out of the public eye."

At Harry's furrowed brows, Narcissa elaborates.

"I was given an allowance… through which I paid a number of younger, healthy, energetic wizards to fuck me on the regular and keep their mouths shut. They had their ways with me, and I them, and then Lucius' gold paid them off. Until… it didn't."

For a long moment, Harry is left reeling at this information. It explained everything rather nicely, but at the same time… it was undeniably surprising. Maybe it shouldn't have been, though. What had he really, truly known about Narcissa Malfoy, outside of that she was Lady Malfoy, Draco's mother, and more recently, the Ancient Runes Professor?

Tonks had been so worried about her, about how she was some great manipulator. But it turned out, more than anything, Narcissa Malfoy had likely turned out to be a burden on Lucius that he couldn't get rid of. Not without angering the powerful Black Family, and once they were no longer quite so powerful, well, she was the mother of his child. So long as she could still function in polite society and be his trophy wife at all the proper events, it likely didn't make sense to send her away or risk anything coming out.

Still-

"P-Please… please fuck me now? I told you everything…"

Narcissa's mewling prompts a jolt from Harry. He had been getting a little caught up in his own thoughts. Grunting, he thrusts the rest of the way into the older witch, filling her with his shaft. As he fucks her, he marvels at the true nature of Narcissa Malfoy. And to think, Tonks of all people had been trying to warn him off. Tonks, who's name was Nymphadora, and Narcissa, who was in fact…

"You're a nymphomaniac."

Narcissa blinks at him, flushed and panting as he thrusts into her, looking confused. Obviously, she had never been properly diagnosed.

"H-Huh?"

But Harry would put any amount of money on it all the same. She was a nymphomaniac. Grunting, pounding into Narcissa's cunt, he explains.

"It's a muggle term. Their science and medicine has had to… expand quite a bit, to make up for the lack of magic. It means that while they can't just magic away every injury that ails them… they have names for all sorts of maladies, including those of the mental variety. You, Lady Malfoy, are a nymphomaniac. A hypersexual woman who engages in compulsive sexual behavior, suffering from recurring and uncontrollable sexual fantasies."

She looks shocked as he just lays it all out for her, likely describing her experience all her life to a T. Shaking his head, Harry can't help but chuckle. All his confusion, all of his worry… and there was this simple of an explanation. The Black Family had all sorts of maladies afflicting it. Even Andromeda wasn't the picture perfect image of mental health, now, was she? And her daughter… well, Nymphadora was doing about as well as could be expected, to be honest.

Still, Bellatrix was insane… and it would seem Narcissa wasn't all there either. Though the woman was a fair bit better off than her psychotic sister, there was no denying that.

That said, if Narcissa was afflicted with nymphomania… had she truly gone months without sex? It had been more than half a year since Lucius had been locked away, and House Malfoy had been forced to pay steep fines to maintain their position in society. In all that time, if she hadn't been able to pay for sex… how had she survived without an incident?

"… Narcissa, when was the last time you had sex, before this?"

Her inner walls clenching around his member, the older witch moaning up a storm as he fucks her there on the edge of her desk, Narcissa almost acts like she didn't hear him, at first. But Harry isn't buying that for a second. He growls after a moment, and Narcissa jolts, before looking at him and then averting her gaze, blushing hard in shame and embarrassment.

"… Two weeks ago. I… disciplined one of my students. I gave him detention… and then I told him he could choose between cleaning the classroom… or going down on me. He chose the latter."

Harry's lips thin out into a tight line at that. It wasn't like he had room to be truly upset with her. After all, had he not abused his power in the same way with Daphne Greengrass and Hermione, back at the start of the year? It felt like an entire age ago at this point, but he most definitely had.

Still, it brings Narcissa's problem into stark clarity, doesn't it? He's currently buried ball's deep in a woman who will do anything for sex… even jump to conclusions about her only child's conduct so she has an excuse to offer her body up to Harry for him to take his pleasure from.

And here they were, in a Castle filled to the brim with different factions… and plenty of people who would love to take advantage of Narcissa's weakness, to use her against him, or turn her into a weapon. She was a ticking time bomb, really, and he wasn't entirely sure he could expect to be able to handle her. Distance might be the only way to avoid the fallout of her situation.

But right now, he was buried ball's deep inside of her, and distance wasn't an option. With a growl, Harry continues to fuck Narcissa incessantly, while she moans and clings to her desk, cumming for him again and again.

Chapter 29: Narcissa & Tonks

With a growl, Harry abruptly pulls out of Narcissa Malfoy. Before the raging nymphomaniac of a witch can even register this, let alone complain however, he's already yanked her off of the desk and spun her around. As her feet plant on the ground, Harry bends Narcissa over, lifting her hips up into the air with his hands, and brings her to her tip toes as he lines up and slams right back into her, this time from behind.

The Ancient Runes Professor and Lady of House Malfoy cries out in an incredibly lewd manner, her arms outstretched before her and clawing at her desk as he rams into her again and again, plowing her hard and fast without mercy or hesitation.

But then, it's everything Narcissa could have wanted. His cock, buried inside of her hungering twat. The only issue is, it's not just HIS cock the nympho wants. No, she'll take sex in any form she can get it, and without the ability to pay for discretion, she's likely to take riskier and riskier opportunities until she gets herself in trouble and finds herself in bed with the wrong people… literally.

Given the sheer amount of schemers in this damn castle, Harry knows one thing for sure… he can't just leave Narcissa to fall under any particular faction's sway. The argument that he can just keep his distance now that he knows she's a ticking time bomb… it just doesn't hold water. After all, Hogwarts is a self-contained eco-system. Put simply, Narcissa added power to anyone who could get their hands on her, making their cause stronger even if Harry knew to watch out for treachery from her…

Which meant he had to take matters into his own hands. But at the same time, he balked at the idea of being Narcissa's main… source of pleasure. The sex addict would no doubt tie up too damn much of his time, if he were to commit to taking care of one hundred percent of her needs going forward. No matter how gorgeous the blonde MILF of a witch was, no matter how tight and sopping wet she was for him right now, Harry just had too many damn plates he was juggling already.

He needed a compromise, of sorts. He needed a way to keep Narcissa under control, help her manage her addiction, and also make sure her nymphomania didn't cut into his own time too much. Fucking her bent over her own desk, plowing the Ancient Runes Professor through orgasm after squealing orgasm, Harry considers the problem for some time before finally deciding on a solution.

Flicking out his wand, Harry summons a patronus with a message for Nymphadora Tonks, before sending it racing off into the Castle to call upon the Hogwarts Caretaker. With that done, Harry leans over Narcissa, and grabs her by her hair, yanking her head back so he can talk directly into her ear.

"Narcissa. Are you with me still?"

"Ooooh… y-yes. Yes. I… your cock… sho good… love your coooock~"

Her wanton moaning makes her sound like a whore, more than the Pureblood Lady she's supposed to be. It would be funny, if it weren't so serious. Harry chuckles all the same, needing to find some level of humor from this situation. Cutting off his own chuckle with a growl into Narcissa's ear, he uses his free hand to spank and palm her ass, slapping it and then groping it as she squeaks and mewls in response.

"From now on, you're not going to make any decisions regarding your sex life on your own. Do you understand? You can't be trusted with yourself. You know that, don't you?"

Panting noisily, squirming beneath him and flexing her cunt muscles in what feels like a very purposeful way around his cock, Narcissa nods as best she can in his grip.

"Y-Yes… yessss… you'll t-take care of me, won't you, Harry? You'll keep me under control?"

Harry shakes his head at that, but Narcissa can't see it. What she does feel is his cock twitch inside of her at the word 'control'.

"Call me sir, when we're alone. If I'm going to be in charge of you, then I deserve your respect."

"Y-Yes, Lord Potter, sir!"

Narcissa's pussy is absolutely flooding at being ordered about. It's possible that when her nympho-engine really gets revving, that her values become inverted. Her Pureblood prejudices and learned discrimination, turning into sexual arousal at the thought of being ordered around by some no-good, 'dirty', 'jumped-up' half-blood 'reaching beyond his station'.

It's also possible that she's always had such a fantasy and loves the idea of him dominating a Pureblood such as herself. Either way, she's clearly enjoying herself immensely, moaning at the top of her lungs, red-faced with fluttering eyes as her entire body shudders beneath him.

Either way, Harry takes the moment, in which Narcissa is at the height of her pleasure, to break the bad news to her.

"However, I will not always be around to handle your needs."

It takes a moment for the cumming witch to hear and process his words. When she does, she goes still. Harry doesn't stop fucking her, and no matter how hard she tries to freeze up, her body eventually goes right back to pushing backwards into his pistoning prick, betraying her. With a warbling, whimpering whine, Narcissa attempts to crane her neck so she can look back at him.

"W-Why not?!"

Harry just gives her an unimpressed, pointed look, causing the Lady Malfoy to blush and follow it up with a bit more respectful of a response.

"Please! I need it… I need your big fat cock, s-sir!"

As hot as hearing that straight from Narcissa Malfoy's mouth is, Harry stands firm. Shaking his head, he smirks down at her, giving her ass another slap with his palm to remind her of her place.

S-SMACK!

"Eep!"

"I don't have enough time in my week to deal with you and everything else, Narcissa. Here's what I CAN promise you. If you're very, very good… I will give you one evening of my time each week."

Panting, mewling, pupils dilated, Narcissa seems to consider this for a long moment, her consideration undoubtedly prolonged when his pistoning cock draws another orgasm from her desperate, needy cunt. But ultimately, she shakes her head.

"W-Won't be enough… need… need more. Please, sir… I won't be able to control myself!"

He'd thought as much, if he was being honest. Luckily, he'd already decided on a solution. Before he can begin outlining it to the Pureblood Witch, he's currently fucking into her own desk however, the door to Narcissa's classroom opens up, admitting the 'guest' he'd invited along.

Narcissa's head whips over, her eyes widening in seeming horror… but Harry is currently buried to the root inside of her twat, and he knows the truth. He knows that the thought of being found out, of being caught like this with him… it turns her on more than Narcissa would ever care to admit. Her pussy walls clench down around his cock harder than ever before, even as Nymphadora Tonks stops dead in her tracks, the doors to the classroom swinging shut behind her as Harry re-locks them with a bit of his magic.

"Ah, Caretaker Tonks. Right on time. Come here, please."

"H-Harry… your message said it was urgent. What… what is this?"

Even as she questions him, Tonks walks forward. He can tell that, as confused as she is… she's still with him. Till the end.

"This is your Aunt. Your Aunt, who it turns out, is a nymphomaniac."

Harry would be worried about just blabbing Narcissa's greatest secret to Tonks if not for two things. One, him saying it out loud to the other witch makes the Lady Malfoy clench down on his cock all the harder, a strangled whimper leaving her lips as she experiences yet another orgasm upon his throbbing member. Two… Tonks was his solution to this current situation, and if she was going to be helping him with her Aunt, she needed to know what she was getting into.

Blinking owlishly, Tonks comes to a stop in front of the desk, and just stares at Narcissa blankly for a moment. Harry briefly wonders if she even knows what a nymphomaniac is, given it's a muggle term, but no… Tonks is a half-blood like him, with a muggleborn father. She knows what it is, she's just having a hard time accepting it.

"… You can't be serious."

Chuckling ruefully, Harry cocks his head, side-eyeing Tonks while fucking Narcissa.

"Oh, I am. I need your help with her."

Tonks blinks some more at that.

"Me?"

"H-Her?"

Narcissa's reply is half-strained, half a moan, the older witch wiggling beneath him and scrambling against the desk as she tries not to moan and cry out so damn much in the presence of her sister's daughter. It's a losing battle for her, especially as Harry picks up the pace a bit more, slamming his cock all the deeper into Narcissa's twat from behind.

"Yes, you, Tonks. You see, Narcissa here needs a firm hand. Her condition is a weakness that could be leveraged by the wrong people… unless we leverage it first."

The light of understanding dawns in Tonks' eyes at that, even as Narcissa sputters beneath him.

"I-I'm right here, you know!"

Leaning forward, Harry moves his free hand around to Narcissa's jaw and grips it.

"You're right here…?"

Tonks watches on in mild confusion, as Narcissa flinches and whimpers a moment before giving in.

"I'm right here… s-sir."

Harry grins, even as Tonks' eyes widen in shock at the submissive and respectful address. Her Blood Purist Aunt, acting so subservient before a half-blood like Harry, would be quite the surprise.

"Good girl. You've earned a prize."

In truth, he's been ready to blow for QUITE some time now. However, he wanted to wait for Tonks. And… he knew he wasn't going to cum inside of Narcissa, not now anyways. While the woman had clearly done well at birth control in spite of her sexual mania, seeing how Draco was an only child (so far as Harry knew) he wasn't looking to knock Narcissa up right now. No sir.

And so, he yanks her back by her hair, dragging her down off of the desk as his cock slips out of her. Spinning her around, pushing her back against the side of the desk he'd just been bending her over, Harry holds her head up with one hand and strokes his cock the rest of the way to completion with the other.

For a moment, Narcissa is stunned… then she realizes what she's staring down the barrel of and gets ready. Her eyes are filled with need as she looks up at him hopefully, her mouth opening wide and her tongue lolling out in anticipation.

They're so focused on each other, that the both of them are a little surprised when Tonks suddenly drops down right next to Narcissa and takes hold of her head from Harry's hand. One hand grabs Narcissa by her blonde locks, and the other squeezes the older witch's jaw as Tonks presses her face up against her Aunt's.

"Say 'ahhh', Auntie."

"Ahhhh~"

With no choice in the matter, Narcissa presents herself for a cum bath as Tonks does the same. A moment later and Harry finally finishes, cumming all over the two witches. Most of his seed ends up painting Narcissa Malfoy's face and tits a pearly white, but with Tonks clearly itching to be included, Harry doesn't hesitate to give her some love too. Her mouth is open, and her tongue catches the stringy, ropey shot of seed he throws her way, slurping it up and gulping it down with a visible look of satisfaction on her face.

She hasn't said it straight up, but it's obvious that Tonks is on board with what he wants from her. She'll be Narcissa's handler from now on, keeping an eye on the older witch and making sure she doesn't get too far astray. Tonks makes her willingness to take on the responsibility abundantly clear when she forces Narcissa forward before the other witch really even has time to recover, pushing Narcissa's head down his cock before it can even go soft.

"Look at the mess you made, Auntie. Clean it up."

"Gluuuughk! Huuuulghk!"

Despite some mild choking and gagging, Narcissa does as she's told, not putting up much fight as the Hogwarts Caretaker bounces her head upon Harry's cock, resulting in less of a post-coitus clean-up session and more of a violent face-fuck session. Not that anyone involved is complaining. Narcissa might have, but her mouth is a little full at the moment.

"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"

As the Ancient Runes Professor deep-throats Harry's cock under Tonks' watchful eye and forceful hand, the Hogwarts Caretaker looks up at him, smiling slightly but also with a bit of reproach in her gaze.

"Ciri is gone, by the way. So that opportunity and threat is off the table, at least for now. Her departure was rather abrupt, but as far as I can tell, she's no longer in the Castle."

Harry raises an eyebrow, realizing that Tonks has decided to talk shop, even if its in front of Narcissa. Not that there's much the other witch can take from the conversation, save for a seeming interest in Yennefer's adopted daughter. Still, he gives Tonks a meaningful look, one that makes her flush and consider her words more… carefully.

"You need to decide whether you want to consolidate or expand from here, Harry. You've got a loose end at the moment, as I'm sure you know. But you should also be careful not to neglect those who have been good to you."

Its her turn to give him a meaningful look. For a moment, Harry thinks she's talking about herself. But no, he realizes. She's talking about someone else. Not her mother either. Which only leaves… ah, Hermione.

He'd gotten rather distracted, hadn't he? But it wasn't entirely his fault. He'd had a lot on his plate. In comparison, Hermione Granger was… well, she was his best friend, and they HAD become lovers, but she was also a mere student. He didn't want to put her at risk by dragging her into all of this. Except… it was likely others would drag her into things, even if he didn't.

As far as the 'consolidate' or 'expand' comments went, the meaning behind those was obvious as well. He had made in-roads with Emma Frost and Jean Grey, but at this point he could only truly count on Jean. Emma was still aloof, and not necessarily an ally yet. He could aim to make her one in truth though…

Alternatively, expansion was always an option. His power base could stand to be a little bigger, it was true. There were Lodge Witches galore at Hogwarts, but there were also a couple more that were not. Pamela Isley and Harleen Quinzel came to mind.

He needed to make a decision… but first, Harry lets out a groan, pulls back, and cums all over Narcissa's cum-coated face a second time, making even MORE of a mess of the Pureblood woman and thoroughly disgracing her in the middle of her own classroom. The Lady Malfoy, covered in not one but two loads from a half-blood wizard, doesn't seem to mind one bit, instead immediately attacking the treat coating her skin with voracity as Tonks lets go of her Aunt's somewhat messy hair and stands up, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Can I count on you to keep her in check? I promised her one evening of my time each week IF she had been a good girl. You'll be the one in charge of deciding whether or not she's earned it or not."

Glancing down at her Aunt, Tonks barely hesitates before nodding.

"Once a week is too good for someone like her… but yes, Harry. I'll help you."

Pulling her in for a kiss, Harry slips her a bit of tongue, which Tonks clearly enjoys judging by her muffled moan. When they pull apart, he gives her an appreciative nod and grin.

"Thank you."

With that decided, with Tonks' help, he could look to the future without worrying about what Narcissa would get up to without supervision. And when the time came… well, he could think of a few ways to use the nymphomania in the power struggle going on behind the scenes here at Hogwarts. Oh yes, he could…

Chapter 30: Hermione Granger Redux

It wasn't as though Harry had been ignoring Hermione, these past couple of months. In fact, he and her had been meeting up to fuck on the regular, even with the developing situation Harry had found himself dealing with. It wasn't so bad that he hadn't been able to juggle things effectively, regardless of who was conspiring against him.

And honestly, Hermione had proven to be a bright light in an otherwise dark and dreary feeling world. Not that Harry was encountering too much in the way of difficulties so far, but at the same time… it was taxing, to be aware of these people working against you in the shadows, and not being able to simply go and drag them into the light without causing significant damage to those you cared about.

Hermione, unaware of all of the things he was dealing with, was Harry's escape. Even more so than Tonks or her mother could ever be, Hermione Granger represented a way for Harry to get away from it all and just… take a load off. She was pretty much his therapist, though the two of them didn't do much talking together.

Which was why, even now with her on her knees in front of him, Harry was reluctant to let Hermione in on everything he'd been dealing with these past couple of months.

Kneeling there, the beautiful brunette has her breasts wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him, she dutifully rubs her tits along his length, while leaning forward every once in a while, to trail her tongue across his bulbous cockhead. His glans, leaking with precum, are swiped clean again and again by her enthusiastic tongue, even as she mostly keeps to just her breasts.

Said breasts feel absolutely amazing around his shaft, of course. Hermione is quite good at this, and always has been. She knows what she's doing, and once again Harry is forced to reflect with some amusement that it's ALWAYS the quiet ones. As she rides her beautiful mammaries up and down his cock again and again, Harry groans, feeling himself getting close.

"Hermione… I'm going to cum soon…"

Her reaction, as it were, is rather telling. She immediately picks up the pace, and opens her mouth, lolling out her tongue. She makes no effort to shy away from his impending explosion, nor to try and contain it by swallowing his cock with her mouth. It's not that the brunette bookworm has any issue with the taste of his seed, because she's swallowed plenty of his loads before… but she definitely enjoys getting a facial or two here and there as well, and that seems to be exactly what the Hogwarts Head Girl wants from him right now.

Never one to deny her wants, Harry lets out a louder groan and a moment later begins to cum. His seed explodes all over the beautiful brunette, coating her from her forehead down to her breasts. He covers her in his cum, not holding back for even a moment, and enjoys the way she moans and mewls as he ejaculates all over her.

When he's done, Hermione makes a point of rubbing his essence into her tits, even as her tongue lolls out of her mouth and swirls around it, licking his cum off of both her lips and her cheeks in the process. However, in defiance of his expectations, Hermione does not immediately ask him to fuck her, like she normally would.

In this situation, the brunette would usually already be up on her feet, probably turning around and grabbing her ankles as she offers him her cunt to plow to his heart's delight. But instead, she remains on her knees and looks up at him with those incredibly intelligent brown eyes of hers. As she scoops cum off of her tits and into her mouth, Hermione bats her eyelashes.

"Something's bothering you, Professor. Something has been bothering you for a while now. But it seems to me like you're finally ready to talk about it."

Harry blinks, slightly floored by Hermione's intuition. But then, he really shouldn't be, should he? Trust in Hermione to not only pick up that something was wrong, but also recognize that he was currently warring with himself on whether to talk to her about it or not. Letting out a soft chuckle, Harry just shakes his head.

There was no keeping it from her now, was it? And besides… Narcissa's situation flits through Harry's mind. He COULD attempt to keep Hermione in the dark, to keep her innocent and unaware of the political maneuvering and intense jockeying for power and pieces on the board going on around her. But didn't that just put her in more danger? If she didn't know what was going on, then she would be vulnerable to those who sought to use her against him.

… He'd been a fool, Harry finally realizes. Keeping his closest allies out of the loop was a stupid idea, and Hermione definitely counted as one of those. Still, how to broach the subject with her?

The brunette is still on her knees, cleaning his cum off of herself with her tongue and fingers. Staring down at her as she looks up at him expectantly, Harry's throat works for a moment before he finally speaks.

"Did you know that Narcissa Malfoy was an undiagnosed nymphomaniac?"

Hermione's eyes widen at that reveal, and before Harry really knows what's happening, he's spilling it all out for her. He's telling her everything, starting with what happened between him and Narcissa the other day, and then back tracking to explain what the Lodge of Sorceresses was, and how they were apparently moving against him, or wanted to control him, or something.

His best friend listens intently, the Hogwarts Head Girl visibly taking in what Harry is telling her as she kneels there before him, cleaning herself almost like a cat. Until finally, he's done. There's nothing else. He's told her everything, from the Lodge of Sorceresses, to Zatanna and Raven's situation, to even Emma and Jean and what they were running from.

When he's finished, Hermione rocks back on her heels for a moment… and then reaches for her wand. With a tap of it on her bared skin, she cleans the last traces of his cum load off of her face and tits. She'd licked most of it up, consuming it off of her body and her fingers for the last several minutes. But now she gets rid of every last remnant.

Then, setting her wand back down, Hermione climbs to her feet and up into Harry's lap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands immediately move to support Hermione's buttocks, even as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck in the lotus position. As she impales herself upon his cock, Hermione's breasts press into his chest, and her lips are barely apart from her lips. Looking into his eyes, Hermione lets out a shuddering sigh.

"It sounds like you've been dealing with a lot, Harry. You could have told me, you know."

She doesn't sound nearly as angry as he'd feared she might be. Instead, she almost sounds resigned as she rocks her hips back and forth, riding him slowly but surely. Letting out a sigh of his own, Harry hangs his head sheepishly for a moment.

"I should have. I just didn't want to risk you getting hurt. Only now do I realize you were in more danger stuck in the dark then you would have been with all the information from the start."

Hermione nods, panting a little bit now as she begins to pick up her pace and ride him faster. Harry's cock throbs inside of her, pulsating with need as his grip on her ass tightens up a bit, his need to start thrusting up into her almost overpowering. But he's trying to stay on task and finish this conversation, at the very least.

"You've always had a Hero Complex, Harry. A need to save people. But also, a misunderstanding of how the world works."

Harry blinks at Hermione's words, his brow furrowing in confusion at that second line. Hermione doesn't hesitate to elaborate, thankfully.

"It's not your fault, mind you… but you struggle to understand that you CAN ask for help. You always have. So many of the adults in our lives failed you as we grew up. From before you came to Hogwarts, to even after."

Now, Harry finds himself gaping at Hermione. Wait… surely she wasn't saying what he thinks she's saying. There's no way… right? And yet, Hermione gives him a stern look, and bluntly states what she means outright.

"Dumbledore was wrong, to put it all on you. Fuck the prophecy, it should never have been your responsibility. The school should never have been used as a honey trap for Voldemort in our first year with the Philosopher's Stone. Things should never have gotten as bad as they did in our second year. Dementors should never have been allowed on campus in our third. YOU shouldn't have been forced into a magical contract against your will in our fourth!"

By the time she gets to the end, Hermione is panting, clearly working herself up into something of a fit. She's also riding Harry harder than ever before, her pace increasing with her emotional outburst until finally, she slams down on his cock, clamping down around his member and pausing for a moment before speaking again in a quiet tone of voice.

"They failed all of us… but they failed you most of all. And so, you grew up believing you couldn't rely on anyone else for help, forcing those of us who wanted to help you to fight tooth and nail for a place at your side. I don't blame you, Harry… but you CAN rely upon me. I hope you know that."

For a long moment, Harry doesn't know what to do or say. But only for that moment. In the end, the answer is staring him right in the face. Winding one hand around the back of Hermione's head, through her hair, he pulls her into a deep, tongue-filled kiss. It feels right, passionately making out with the brunette as she gyrates on his cock. Hermione, for her part, kisses him right back, and for a bit, that's all they do.

However, they do eventually have to come up for air, and when they do, Harry gives Hermione a smile and a nod.

"I know. And… thank you, Hermione."

He hadn't realized how badly he needed to hear what she'd had to tell him. All of that about the adults in their lives failing them so entirely… she was right. And hearing it from Hermione of all people, the resident 'teacher's pet' and all around lover of authority figures… it was eye opening. But in the end, the Head Girl had the right of it. Harry might not have been able to rely upon adults in his life growing up nearly as much as he should have been able to, but he had allies and friends now that he COULD rely on.

Giving him a sultry but also sassy smile, Hermione smirks as she continues to ride him towards completion.

"Good. Then I'll start looking into these Lodge Sorceresses a bit more. I have classes with four of them. It would only make sense that I would approach them for some one-on-one time. I am the Head Girl, after all."

Harry opens his mouth instinctively to tell Hermione that she doesn't have to do that, but she sees it coming before he can even speak and quells him with a look.

"I know I don't HAVE to do this, Harry… but I want to. And besides, do you think they've been idle, just because you've been trying to keep me out of things?"

His teeth click as his mouth snaps shut at that, his brow immediately furrowing again.

"… What do you mean?"

Sighing, Hermione flips her hair back over her shoulder, still riding him as they talk.

"Potions Mistress Yennefer, Transfiguration Professor Eilhart, Charms Professor Merigold, and History of Magic Professor Laux-Antille. I didn't think much of it, but all four of them have shown just a smidge more interest in me than any of my other teachers. Oh, I continue to excel and overperform in all of my classes, and I continue to earn house points in every single class… but those four clearly want something from me, in hindsight."

Before Harry can ask her to elaborate further, Hermione tosses her head back and moans, before suddenly increasing her pace. All he can do is match her, his grip on her ass tightening as he fucks up into her from below. A few moments later, they reach a mutual climax together, with Harry spilling his second load inside of Hermione's womb, and her inner walls flexing and milking him for all he's worth as they cum with one another.

When they're both finally done, Hermione looks at Harry with lidded eyes and that same smirk from before.

"Obviously, knowing what I know now, it's clear that they're trying to get in close, to use me to get to you. And I don't see any reason we can't use that… to get to them."

Harry blinks. There is merit to what Hermione is saying.

"Whether they're just trying to cover their bases, or they're all playing some sort of game where they attempt to one-up each other, I really couldn't say. But the fact is, all four women are making a constant effort to try and commandeer a moment of my time here and there. I figured it had something to do with me being Head Girl, and them all being new to Hogwarts. I assumed it was my duty to help them all out, but now I realize by splitting my focus, I've kept any one of them from getting close enough to really… use me."

Leaning in close, Hermione's smirk turns into a raunchy grin as the brunette bookworm grinds down on his softening cock, keeping it from fully losing its hardness.

"Say the word, Harry, and I'll refocus my attentions on any one of them. From there, we'll find out just what they want… and how best to turn their desires to OUR advantage. Divide and conquer, right? Just as they likely hoped to do to you and me."

… Heh, he really didn't deserve as brilliant a friend as Hermione. Merlin, just looking at her… Harry lets out a lustful growl, and abruptly spins them both around. Hermione yelps, and then laughs a giggly laugh as he takes her to her back on her bed and begins fucking her hard and fast all over again.

Cooing, she moans wantonly and keeps her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. For now, they both put the decision out of their minds. They could make a choice later, once Harry was done plowing his best friend silly.

Chapter 31: Hermione Granger Redux Pt. 2

In the end, while Harry knew better than to try to sideline Hermione, he couldn't let her go in without back-up. To that end, there was really only one option that made sense to him.

First, however, he fucks the brunette long and hard, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm before finally letting out a groan as he cums deep inside of her. With her legs wrapped so damn tightly around his waist, it wasn't like he could do anything else. But then to be fair, he didn't really want to. He fills the Head Girl with his seed, and only then does Hermione's grip on his waist dissipate.

Pulling out, Harry falls to his side beside her with a panting breath, while Hermione… Hermione turns and curls into him, looking him right in the eye with those big, soulful brown pupils of hers.

"Well, Harry?"

Hah, so she was going to come at him this fast, huh? Pursing his lips together for a moment, Harry shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle.

"Ever the eager one, Hermione."

"Count on it, Professor~"

Ugh, she couldn't say things like that in that tone of voice and expect him to do nothing, right? Alas… he couldn't just start fucking her again. There had to be limits. They were both busy people after all, with very full days… weeks… hell, even months. Letting out a sigh, Harry focuses on keeping his libido in check and his ardor from overwhelming him as he considers his options one last time.

He'd already made his choice while he was fucking Hermione still, but it was always good to reconsider things in the post-coitus light of day and take a moment to really think about what he was doing. After all, it wouldn't do for him to be thinking with his dick overly much. And from the right angle, one might assume that's exactly what he was doing, with the choice he'd made.

… But no. This really was the best of the four options, Harry felt. Sure, it did likely involve him getting his dick wet faster than the other options, but that… that wasn't the primary consideration. The primary consideration was Hermione's safety. As well as what she'd said before…

"Divide and conquer, yeah? That's what you said."

Hermione blinks and slowly nods, running her fingers along his chest as he smiles slightly.

"I want you to focus your efforts on the Charms Professor, Triss Merigold. Let her in, let her think she's getting her hooks in you. It should get the others to back off, if you become Professor Merigold's prized student. In the meantime… I'll be helping out by tackling the situation from another angle."

Nodding along some more as he explains, Hermione cocks her head to the side at that last sentence.

"Helping out? How so? What angle?"

A broad grin spreads across Harry's face at Hermione's rapid-fire questions. As always, the brunette is quite the inquisitive creature. Unable to help himself, he winds his hand down her back and palms her ass cheek, giving it a light smack before groping it.

"What angle… Professor."

Hermione blushes at his teasing tone. It's obvious he doesn't mean the correction, not truly, but she still flushes and wiggles in his grasp for a moment before putting on her most sultry, breathless tone.

"Mmm… what angle, Professor?"

Fuck, he shouldn't be playing these games with her. Not if he wants either of them to get out of here in a reasonable time frame. Once more attempting to ignore his libido and ardor, Harry swallows thickly and clears his throat.

"Fleur Delacour. She's Professor Merigold's Assistant Professor, yes?"

Eyes lighting up in understanding, Hermione nods.

"Yes. You want to try and get her on side?"

"That's the plan, yes."

"… You do recall that she's sworn off all men after what happened with Bill, right? Your history with her might give you an in… but then again, your history as a friend to the Weasleys might not."

Harry grimaces at that, for more reasons than one. Indeed, Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley had not parted on the best of terms. Their failed marriage had become a cautionary tale among witches everywhere, from what he'd heard. No matter how beautiful you were… your man could still stray if he was a continent away.

Despite both working for Gringotts after the war, Fleur and Bill had two very different jobs. Hers was situated at the bank itself, while Bill was sent on expedition after expedition to far away lands, to peddle his trade as a Cursebreaker. He was a bonafide wizarding Indiana Jones… and maybe that had gone to his head or something, because the reports of his infidelity hadn't just reached Fleur's ears… they'd made it onto the Daily Prophet itself, a scathing article written by Rita Skeeter properly torpedoing their still-fledgling marriage.

Sometimes, Harry wondered if they were right to let Rita and her unregistered Animagus Form off so easy… but truth be told, he couldn't blame the sensationalist reporter for this particular story. Bill had in fact cheated on Fleur multiple times. Rita had the receipts, and when Fleur fact-checked everything, she found evidence herself.

Harry would always appreciate the Weasleys for all they'd done for him, and how they'd been there for him throughout his years at Hogwarts. He even still had a big investment in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, where George continued his and his twin's dream in Fred's honor.

But there was no denying that he'd found himself growing somewhat distant from the family after the war. He still considered Ron a friend, but there was truth to the fact that they hadn't exchanged more than a few words over the course of the year so far. And Ginny… well, it was obvious that Molly had always expected him and Ginny to get together, perhaps in the same way she'd expected Ron and Hermione to get together as well.

For a time, Harry had thought about Ginny in that way, but only for a time. And when they'd finally talked about it… they'd BOTH realized that neither of them was ready to settle down in that manner. Ginny might have had a case of hero worship for Harry growing up that made the younger witch blush crimson to this day, but that didn't mean she wanted to get married and start popping out kids before even graduating from Hogwarts.

They'd agreed to just be friends and left it at that, but obviously Molly wasn't happy. And while she'd refrained from sending a Howler to Harry or Hermione, the Weasley Matriarch had nevertheless grown distant and somewhat chilled to both of them with it becoming less and less likely that they'd be joining her family properly, as in-laws.

A shame, but that was just the way life worked sometimes. Things changed. You grew apart from people you'd known for years. Yours and their trajectory simply diverged. It wasn't a bad thing or a good thing. It was just… life.

That said, Fleur Delacour had a lot of reason to be upset with the Weasleys, both Bill in particular and the rest of the family, who, perhaps understandably, had mostly rallied around their own flesh and blood. Luckily, Fleur and Bill did not have anything in the way of children to complicate matters, so at the very least their divorce was a clean break for the both of them.

Still, after Fleur got out of her Gringotts contract and returned home to France, Harry hadn't expected to see her back in Britain so soon. But here she was at Hogwarts once more, taking up the Assistant Professorship for the Charms Position. She wasn't part of the Lodge of Sorceresses, as far as Harry knew… but on the other hand, what DID he really know?

Either way, he and Fleur had a rapport, didn't they? The two of them went all the way back to Harry's Fourth Year, where he'd heroically, if a bit foolishly, 'saved' her sister from seeming peril. Harry could only hope Fleur would still remember him rather fondly for that, if nothing else, instead of tarring him with the same brush she no doubt tarred the Weasleys with.

Shrugging, Harry nods at Hermione, acknowledging her point.

"I guess we'll see, won't we? I'll feel her out, at the very least, and that shouldn't be too unusual given our history, right? In the meantime, you focus on getting Merigold focused on you. We'll figure out how we want to use that connection later, depending on what happens with Fleur. Understood?"

Eyes twinkling, Hermione licks her lips and gives him a positively lecherous, hooded look from under her lashes.

"Mm, yes Professor. I do so love it when you get… authoritative with me."

For a moment, Harry just stares at her… then, with a growl, he rolls back over on top of her, and slides right into her again.

"Damn you, you little minx. You're intent on driving us both to distraction, aren't you?"

Moaning, Hermione doesn't respond with words… not that she needs to, as Harry jackhammers in and out of her. Her tightening, clenching, gushing quim is answer enough for this, while Harry… Harry stops trying to rein in his libido for the time being, and just settles for satiating both of their wanton desires for a little while longer.

-x-X-x-

When he finally leaves the Head Girl's Chambers behind, it's with a smile on his lips and a pep in his step. And perhaps, just a little bit… he's let his guard down. Feeling well-rested and satiated, Harry isn't as alert and on the look out for trouble as he probably should be… and it causes him to fall prey to a perfect ambush, as he's grabbed from the side by a Summoning Charm and yanked bodily into an empty classroom just as he's passing it by.

With a grunt, Harry skids to a halt, having drawn his wand in midair and arrested his momentum as fast as he possibly could.

"Protego!"

Maybe a little late, but better late than never, Harry gets up the Shielding Charm. It would likely have been just in time to stop any other offensive magic being cast in his direction, but truth be told, Harry wouldn't be able to say for sure… because no other spells come his way. The fact that someone had even managed to use the Summoning Charm on him was annoying enough.

Especially when the Summoning Charm only worked on inanimate objects. With a moment to think and breathe, Harry recognized that it was his clothing that had been Summoned, rather than himself… but that shouldn't have been possible either, considering all of his robes and garments came with anti-summoning charms. It wasn't standard in ALL wizarding clothing, but it was certainly standard in HIS clothes. He'd be a piss-poor DADA Professor if it wasn't…

All of this was to say, Harry didn't feel nearly as safe behind his Protego Charm as he might have liked to feel, even as a voice calls out from within the classroom.

"Hold! I mean you no harm, Professor. I apologize for the rude introduction, but I needed to speak with you. Privately."

Harry's eyes narrow, as he realizes his attacker is obfuscated by powerful magic. Then, without a word or even a visible wand movement that he can see, the obfuscation expands outwards, passing right through his Shield Charm and spreading to encompass the entire classroom. As he's brought into the obfuscation spell, which is likely also a muffling and anti-spying spell from the look of things, Harry blinks at what he sees in front of him.

Around his age, his attacker is a beautiful young woman with ashen hair, bright green eyes that match his own, and a lithe yet athletic body with legs that go on for days. It takes a moment for Harry to place her. He'd only caught a glimpse of her the one time, but he'd heard about her enough at this point that it would be rather silly for him not to know who she was.

"… Cirilla? Yennefer's daughter?"

Holding a beautifully smithed sword out in front of her, one that from the glow was clearly her casting implement, the white-haired witch's lips purse together for a moment, before she makes a show of lowering the sword to her side.

"Please, call me Ciri."

Harry's mind swirls with unspoken questions. Was this attack sanctioned by the Lodge of Sorceresses? Had they sent her after him? Wasn't she supposed to have left? Tonks had made it clear she'd thought Harry's opportunity with Yennefer's daughter had passed him by. He hadn't second-guessed the Metamorphmagus because… well, Tonks was the Hogwarts Caretaker, and her mother was the Headmistress. If Tonks thought Ciri was gone from the Castle, then it was a pretty safe bet that she was gone from the Castle in truth.

And yet, here the woman stood, looking… hunted, perhaps? But also, very serious and determined. Resolved, if Harry had to truly put a word to it. Ciri looked… resolved.

If this WAS a move by the Lodge of Sorceresses, then it was clearly meant to be a subtle one. The ashen-haired witch had gotten the drop on him, full stop. Harry hated to admit it, but he wasn't so arrogant or stubborn that he couldn't acknowledge she'd completely snuck up on him and caught him with his pants down as a result.

And yet, all she'd done was use her one freebie to yank him in here for a… private conversation? That seemed to be the impression she wanted to give off, anyways. If she wanted to, she could have continued to attack him, but she hadn't. Yet.

"… Alright, Ciri. What do you want?"

Straightening up, the young woman swallows thickly for a moment, her chin jutting out. Her high cheekbones give her quite the perfectly sculpted jawline, which bobs up and down as she swallows.

"It's not about what I want. It's about what I need… what YOU need. I need your help, Professor Potter. And you need mine."

Harry narrows his eyes at the certainty in her voice.

"Hm. Is that so?"

He's not surprised when Ciri bristles slightly at his skeptical tone. He does soak it all in though, from the way she bristles for just a moment, her green eyes flashing before she gets herself under control and nods sharply.

"It is. Can I trust you to keep what I have to say between us? Can we have a frank chat about what's going on at this school, and out in the world at large? We need to work together, Professor. But if you can't be trusted…"

It's Harry's turn to bristle a bit as Ciri trails off. He's the one who can't be trusted?! She's the enemy's daughter! And yet… it sounds like she's got something serious to discuss with him. Maybe he's jumping the gun. Or maybe this is all a ploy by the Lodge of Sorceresses and Ciri is little more than their pawn, unwitting or otherwise.

She'd asked him a question. He just needed to decide how he was going to answer it.

Chapter 32: Ciri

After a moment, Harry accepts that he's going to have to hear her out. He'd already promised himself he wouldn't go around with his head stuck up his ass anymore. A little bit of stubbornness might have had its place, but when it came to information, even potentially false information, it was better to have it than not.

That said, there was no reason Harry had to stand here and listen to Ciri lie to him. If she wanted this conversation, it would be on his terms.

"I'll hear you out. If you're willing to submit to a Zone of Truth."

Her eyes flicker down to his wand at that, the Protego Charm still covering him even now. For a moment, Ciri hesitates, but in the end she nods. To be fair, it's not as though the Zone of Truth is anything TOO dangerous. In fact, it's a much nicer version of Veritaserum. Creating an area with magic where no deception can take root, it doesn't force anyone to tell the truth, but rather prevents them from speaking any deliberate lies while within its area.

It's much easier to resist than Veritaserum, but the best part is that the caster knows when those who enter the Zone are resisting it, or when they're letting it work as intended. Meanwhile, those who enter the Zone are immediately aware of the spell and can be as evasive in their answers as they want. It doesn't force anything… it only wards against deception.

Of course, by demanding this, Harry has also taken on the responsibility of casting the Zone in the first place. Truthfully, he's as much offering to trust Ciri here, as she's being forced to trust him. While that sword of hers is currently lowered, he WILL have to drop the Protego in order to cast a new spell… while SHE will have to trust that the spell he's casting actually IS a Zone of Truth and not something more underhanded.

Harry won't lie, he's sorely tempted to ambush her for a second, knock her out, and get her somewhere more private so he can use actual Veritaserum on her, or even just have a position of power from which to ask many, MANY burning questions. But… no. That was something a villain would do, and Harry, while much more paranoid these days, was no villain.

Trust was a two-way street but had to start somewhere… so it might as well start here, between the two of them.

Dropping the Protego, Harry swishes and flicks his wand, casting the Zone of Truth in its place. The spell washes over both of them, and Harry doesn't fight its effects. Thankfully, Ciri neither uses his moment of weakness against him, nor tries to fight the effects herself. For all intents and purposes, the Truth Spell has taken hold and neither of them can flat out lie to the other anymore. They are… bound by magic itself in this case.

"You said I need your help. What do you mean?"

Ciri's own green eyes flicker to the side for a moment, before she lets out an explosive sigh.

"We should start at the beginning… but first, my own question. Can I trust you to keep this under wraps, Professor Potter? What we're about to discuss… people are in danger. People I care about."

Harry narrows his eyes at that. All he knows about Cirilla is that she has a connection to Yennefer, who is in turn one of the more powerful members of the Lodge of Sorceresses. The implications of her statement are therefore not exactly lost on him. That said… he answers honestly.

"No, you cannot. In the event that any of what you have to say endangers those I care about, I will not be able to keep quiet. But if you're asking if I intend to go shouting whatever you tell me from the Castle Parapets, or publishing the information you have from me in the Daily Prophet… I can promise I have no intentions of doing either of those things."

For a moment, Ciri bristles again. But then, the moment passes and her shoulders slump as the fight seems to go out of her, temporarily at least. In the end, she nods her head in resigned acceptance.

"That will have to do. Look… I've been watching you for a little while now. I get the impression that you understand the Lodge of Sorceresses is after you, that they want to bring you under their control."

Well now, if she was going to just come out and say it like that, Harry couldn't very well deny it, could he? Though, the implication that she'd been watching him for a while and he hadn't noticed… tch, how irritating to be so on the back foot.

"Yes."

Ciri nods, licking her lips and smiling a wan smile.

"What I suspect you don't know is WHY the Lodge wants to control you. I believe you do not know this, because they themselves do not truly agree on the Why."

Wait, what? Harry frowns at this new information. It sounded like the Lodge was even more prone to infighting then Andromeda believed. That was… very helpful to know. Agreeing to this meeting was proving to be quite beneficial already.

"I was given to understand that the 'Why' of all of this was simply because they want power. They tried to back Grindelwald, it didn't work out for them because Dumbledore kicked his ass, and they've been laying low ever since. Now Dumbledore is dead and I'm a tasty piece of meat, all because of my magical power."

Ciri nods, her green eyes flashing as the corner of her mouth quirks up a little bit.

"Yes. That, and your status as a Chosen of Prophecy."

The Zone detects no lie, and Harry stiffens as his jaw clenches. He's never been a fan of his 'Chosen One' status. He did what he had to do, what was ultimately expected of him, but that didn't mean he was HAPPY about it.

"Look, I get it. I'm a Chosen of Prophecy too."

Now that gets Harry's eyes wide again. Not only in surprise at Ciri's status, but also at her willingness to tell him that. He wants to ask more… but they're getting off track.

"Why do the Lodge want me? Or rather, why do they all think they want me?"

For a moment, Ciri pauses, collecting her thoughts. Finally, she speaks. Despite feeling like he's already met his quota for surprise today, Harry is nevertheless shocked by the words that come out of Ciri's mouth, as well as her belief in them to be true.

"My mother… is an idiot."

Pausing, Harry raises an eyebrow.

"… I was given to believe that Yennefer was not only a highly skilled Potions Mistress, but also one of the true pillars of power and influence within the Lodge of Sorceresses."

Ciri nods her head in easy agreement, before scrunching her admittedly cute features up in irritation.

"She's all of that, yes. She's also an idiot."

Harry just stays silent, willing the young woman to explain. Thankfully, she does so.

"You already know that the Lodge backed the wrong horse when it came to Grindelwald versus Dumbledore. They got burnt for that and hard. In the ensuing century, they stayed away from Britain and Dumbledore entirely. But that didn't mean they just laid low and avoided expanding their influence elsewhere."

… That made sense, admittedly. Harry didn't know why he'd naturally assumed they HAD lain low. Maybe because Dumbledore was heavily involved in the International Confederation of Wizards as well? But even then, the old man couldn't be everywhere all at once. Which begged the question… what had ultimately escaped Dumbledore's notice?

"The Lodge turned their attentions towards America. Its there, I believe, that Philippa Eilhart was fully subverted."

Ciri has a way with words, Harry notes, as his eyebrows climb up his forehead AGAIN at that declaration. A declaration the Zone of Truth tells him is the truth, so far as Ciri believes it anyways.

"Mother, of course, doesn't believe me. She doesn't think we have enough evidence to act either. But I know the truth. This whole ploy by the Lodge to get to you here at Hogwarts… Mother thinks that it's for their gain, like usual. She thinks they're going to bring you under their control and use you to further cement their place in the Magical World. However, I believe Philippa Eilhart, Mother's peer within the Lodge, wants you for her TRUE Master… an American Dark Lord who seeks to not just build his influence, nor even build a kingdom to rule over, but to fully conquer the planet."

That's a lot. For a moment, Harry can admit that he feels like he's in over his head. Voldemort might have had the ambition to do that as well, but he'd never gotten far enough for them to see if he did. Harry had defeated the Dark Lord before he could even get off of the British Isles, really.

But…

"Who is this Dark Lord? What other resources does he have at his disposal? What are his immediate plans?"

Each question Harry asks causes Ciri's expression to further scrunch up in distaste and irritation, until finally, she lets out a quiet admission that the Zone rings as true.

"… I don't know. Yet! I don't know yet! Look, this is why my mother doesn't believe me. Yennefer refuses to move against her fellow Lodge members when she thinks they're all still working for the same goal… that is, bringing you under their thumb. Until I can prove that she's being hoodwinked, she's not going to do anything. But at the same time, she's ordered me to stand down and stay out of it! How am I supposed to prove anything when she's trying to bench me like this?!"

Harry could see how that would be frustrating, and he feels a pang of sympathy towards Cirilla as she rants for a moment. Still…

"We need more information. Obviously, we can't just walk up to Philippa with our accusations and expect that to ever go over well. I know you believe all you've said so far, but without proof, it sounds like we can't get Yennefer on our side."

At that, Harry himself pauses and frowns, pinning Ciri with an emerald glare as the ashen-haired young woman looks back at him curiously. With the Zone backing him up, Harry doesn't hesitate to lay down the law, so to speak.

"Even if we can convince Yennefer to turn on Philippa, Ciri… if she's not willing to back off of her efforts to control and 'own' me, then we're going to have a problem. I refuse to be anyone's pawn ever again. Do you understand?"

Ciri winces and shifts from foot to foot for a moment, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm sure we…"

She trails off for a moment, no doubt feeling the Zone of Truth plying at her tongue. Whatever she was about to say, she now realizes would have been a deliberate lie. After a moment, Ciri tries again.

"I think… if we can show her that she was tricked into coming here, into coming after you for another's cause… then we can convince her to… to keep her attempts at manipulation to a minimum."

… Wow. That said a lot about Yennefer, or at least Ciri's view of her own mother. Harry can't help but cock an eyebrow at the clearly struggling girl, which in turn makes Ciri flush in embarrassment.

"My mother is a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything she has to in order to get it. She's not a bad person though. I promise, if you help me with Philippa, then I'll help you with… with Yen."

Truth. Well then, that's probably the best Harry can hope for, isn't it? Nodding resolutely, he asks the next obvious question, moving things along.

"How can I help you with Philippa? We already established it would do us no good to approach her directly."

Ciri swallows and nods.

"R-Right. Okay, so Philippa has… well, she has agents within the Castle. The school faculty is riddled with Lodge Sorceresses, but not all of them are equal within the Lodge itself, obviously. One of them, in fact, only joined the Lodge more recently, after the time period I believe Philippa would have been subverted took place. Fringilla Vigo, the Hogwarts Librarian… might also be in league with our mysterious Dark Lord."

Of course. Honestly, what was with America anyways? First, he'd learned Zatanna and Raven were run out of the country because of Raven's differences, then he found out Emma and Jean were being hunted for Jean's abilities. How many Dark Lords did America produce on the regular? How were they not all killing each other over there in some sort of Dark Lord versus Dark Lord grudge match or something?

"The way I see it, we have a few options. You've been building a powerbase here at Hogwarts."

Harry blinks at the blunt statement. It's not an accusation, but it's also not a question. It's fact, and Ciri is presenting it as fact. Which is bad because it means…

"Yeah. I know because Mother knows. She used your… recalcitrance as one of the excuses for not looking into my claims any deeper. She's concerned with how your moving through the Castle, how you're ignoring every Lodge member and focusing on building relationships with the other witches in Hogwarts' Faculty instead."

In hindsight, it made sense that no matter how subtle he tried to be about things, he would set off some red flags. After all, he'd gone from keeping to himself and not even realizing that he was the only male Faculty Member left in the entire Castle, to suddenly spending entire weekends away with Zatanna and Raven and catching dinner with Emma and Jean. Okay, yeah, he might have been a little obvious.

"You could make them think you're giving them what they want by approaching Fringilla Vigo, while at the same time trying to get as much information out of her as possible about our hidden Dark Lord."

… He could do that. But at the same time, wasn't he already moving in this direction by having Hermione make 'friends' with Professor Merigold, while he'd been intending to approach Fleur?

He almost tells Ciri as much, before second-guessing himself. Ultimately, they're not friends. Allies of convenience for now, maybe. But the enemy of your enemy being your friend only tended to last so long as your shared enemy was still a threat.

"I will consider all that you have told me, Ciri. And I will act accordingly. In the meantime, you should keep prying on your end. If we find anything… we'll get in touch with one another?"

Ciri purses her lips together, but ultimately nods, seeming to realize that was the best she was going to get from this admittedly tense first meeting. Bringing down the Zone of Truth spell, Harry watches as the ashen-haired young woman pulls her obfuscation magic back in so that it only covers her and not the whole room. He can sort of track her as she leaves, but as soon as she's gone from his sight, she's gone altogether.

Harry is left all alone… with a choice to be made.

Chapter 33: Fleur Delacour

It's not difficult, getting some alone time with Fleur Delacour. What's difficult is getting some alone time with her without anyone finding out. The French Witch's Veela Blood makes her the center of attention in every room she finds herself in. Even in the Great Hall she commands several dozen sets of eyes all meal long. It doesn't help matters that she's on the market and single. Every Seventh and 'Eighth' Year thought they might have a chance with the beautiful Assistant Professor.

Harry supposed Fleur was lucky that he was the only male faculty member at Hogwarts this year, so at least she didn't have to deal with it from that avenue. Except, here he was now, about to make his own overtures towards the part veela witch.

Hm, but there was nothing for it. While Ciri's idea of going after Fringilla Vigo was of some merit, Harry liked his plan with Hermione better. If they could divide and conquer so to speak, and get Triss Merigold under their thumb in some way, well then, Harry could maybe leverage that into a position of advantage instead.

But he had to trust Hermione to do her part in that. He could only focus his attention where it was needed, and at the moment that was Fleur.

Luckily, Harry already had a couple of distinct advantages. Fleur had her hobbies, and one of those hobbies was painting. Harry, meanwhile, had an 'in' with the Hogwarts Headmistress… the woman that Fleur had asked for a place where she could paint at her leisure whenever she had some down time. Perhaps it was 'wrong' of Andromeda to give Harry that location… but then, not everything they were doing could be morally right all the time. All they could do was take some solace in the fact that they were doing this to protect them and theirs, rather than for any sort of personal gain.

Regardless, with that knowledge secured, Harry follows Fleur to her 'art studio' one Saturday evening, utilizing the Marauder's Map to track her movement through the Castle. Once she's settled in and Harry has confirmed that no one else is moving to meet her, or even in the area, he makes his way there himself and knocks on the door.

There's a moment of silence, before a voice calls out in a distinct, familiar French accent.

"Yes? Who iz eet?"

"Assistant Professor Delacour? It's Professor Potter. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I hoped to have a word."

Another pause, with Harry wondering if he should have just barged in and asked for forgiveness rather than permission. But his conversation with Hermione about Fleur swearing off of all men is still fresh enough in his mind that he didn't want to risk ruining everything. As it is, better for Fleur to send him away without ever even seeing him, then to try and hex him because he charged into her art studio without so much as a 'by your leave'.

"… Come in, 'Arry."

Eyebrow raised at that, Harry tries the door and finds it unlocked. He steps inside quietly and quickly, only to immediately jump to the side as a spell goes zooming past him. His own wand is in his hand, before he realizes the spell was never meant for him… rather, it was a security spell, locking the door and setting an alarm in case anyone tried to get in.

Smirking slightly, the very beautiful, altogether effervescent Fleur Delacour lifts her wand up… and tucks it back into her sleeve and the holster hidden within, as Harry is reminded that the beautiful woman was once Beauxbatons' Triwizard Champion, with all that that entailed.

"You're just in time, 'Arry. Please 'ave a seat right over there."

… What? Furrowing his brow, Harry gives Fleur a questioning look, even as he makes his way over to where she's pointing to sit down in a chair there.

"… You were expecting me?"

Was Fleur a member of the Lodge of Sorceresses after all? Had he walked right into a trap? As he makes himself comfortable, while also being fully on edge, Harry realizes… he's sat perfectly for a portrait, with Fleur's canvas and stand positioned partially between them. As she looks around the canvas' edge, she smirks.

"Non. But I was just thinking how wonderful eet would be to 'ave a model. And 'ere you are, 'Arry. Now, sit still."

Well, this wasn't entirely how he expected this to go. Still, Harry does as he's told, even as Fleur begins to paint. As she works, he looks around for a moment, considering how to get to what HE was here for. Well, better to start from the beginning, wasn't it? Best to clear the air. At the very least, Fleur hadn't turned him away or kicked him out… so he might as well make sure they're fully on good terms and she's not just toying with him.

"I'm glad to see you're doing well. And I appreciate you not holding a grudge…"

Her eyes flicker from her canvas to him for only a moment before she scoffs.

"What grudge should I 'ave against you, 'Arry? Last I checked, you are not a Weasley, non?"

Flushing a little bit, Harry lets out a slightly embarrassed laugh and shakes his head.

"Ah, no. Ginny and I… we both accepted that we weren't looking to settle down any time soon."

That draws a simple nod from Fleur.

"Smart. Ginny… she was a nice enough girl. I don't mind her so much. Ah, not as much as the rest of that… Family."

Harry winces at the undercurrent of anger in Fleur's tone. Her French accent thickens a little bit, as she scowls.

"Eet is fine though. I am… fine."

Was she? Was she really? Harry doesn't get a chance to ask, as Fleur hums.

"But even if I were not, I would never blame you, 'Arry. You saved my leetle sister. Or did you think I had forgotten?"

Here, Harry squirms a bit.

"Well, I did what I thought was right… but we both know Gabrielle was never in any real danger. Dumbledore had a deal with the Merfolk… they weren't going to harm her or anything, even if I hadn't gotten her out. In fact, doing what I did might have put more risk to her instead of less…"

He's arguing against himself here and he's well aware of that, but it's just not in his nature to take credit for things that he feels like he doesn't deserve recognition for. Part of his Hero Complex, he imagined. Fleur, meanwhile, nods along with his words.

"All true statements. All reasons for why a true Life Debt did not form on that day between you and my leetle sister, or even between you and House Delacour."

Harry grimaces and nods at that. Yes, he hadn't known anything about life debts back then, but with the information at his disposal… well, Fleur wasn't wrong. It WAS truly for the best that Gabrielle hadn't been tied to him via a Life Debt. Having House Delacour as a whole indebted to him would have been marginally better, as it would have allowed their parents to pay some sort of restitution to lessen the burden, but even still, Harry was happy it hadn't come to that.

"And yet… the facts do not always stop the feelings, do they? Yes, eet iz true that you did not technically need to intervene. But that you did, especially where I could not… eet will always mean the world to me, 'Arry. To say nothing of what it means for Gabrielle."

"Ah, well… I'm glad to have been of service. And I hope Gabrielle has been well."

There's a moment before Fleur answers, but Harry doesn't think it means anything. She's just focused on the painting.

"She has. But enough about 'er. Rather, let us discuss this piece."

Blinking, Harry watches as Fleur pulls back her paint brush and then pulls forth her wand. With a smile, she taps the canvas' corner… and then beckons him forward. Rising from his chair, Harry crosses the classroom floor, walking over to where Fleur sits and coming around to see what she's painted. He's not sure what he's expecting… but it's not this.

On the canvas, there's him of course. He's sitting right where Fleur had him sit. However, he is not alone. Fleur had used him as a model, a focus point one might say… and then she'd gone and added herself to the painting as well. Unlike the painted Harry, who is clothed, the painted Fleur is naked, her beautiful back profile exposed on the painting, her ass visible as she… well, rides his cock.

Harry notes that Fleur took some liberties with his cock and balls, though with it being a painting, there's not much in the way of true detail and the size could be… well, whatever you wanted it to be. In the end, Harry really only has eyes for the painted Fleur… and the way the painted version of HIM reaches around to grab painted Fleur by the buttocks and bounce her upon his cock.

The painting moves somewhat slowly, a little disjointedly even. Obviously, it's a quickly made piece of art, and a quickly charmed piece as well. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the magic that makes it a moving picture won't last longer than a day. It's certainly not going to be adorning one of Hogwarts' empty walls as its latest art piece any time soon. But then, that's not the point, is it?

"What do you think, 'Arry?"

Swallowing, Harry admires the piece for a moment longer before answering. And yes, the correct word IS 'admire'.

"It's… quite well done, Fleur."

Without missing a beat, Fleur reaches over and grabs him by his robes, tugging him closer to her and pulling them open.

"I thought you might enjoy eet~"

The French Veela Witch licks her lips as she works open her pants, while Harry just stands there for a moment. Not quite caught off guard… but certainly a little surprised. After all, he had come here today expecting Fleur to be some flavor of… intractable. She'd been burned by Bill Weasley in a bad way, falling in love too quickly and ending up with nothing by the end of things.

It would seem, however, that Harry was the exception that proved the rule in Fleur's mind. Swearing off all men apparently didn't include him. Whether that was because of what he'd done for her and Gabrielle all those years ago, or for another reason, Harry couldn't say.

Taking his cock out of its confines as he stands there and lets her have her way with him, Fleur coos over it, his member already growing long and hard in her grasp.

"Mm, bigger than Bill. Good~"

Harry jolts at that, not sure how to feel about the comparison. His emerald eyes narrow as Fleur gives him a smile fit for a minx, licking her lips for a moment before descending down his length right then and there. She takes him into her mouth and begins to dutifully suck, though there's a strange elegance to the whole situation, despite it undeniably being fellatio.

For one, Fleur neither kneels or crouches. She sits in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, and leans down only as much as she needs to in order to take him between her lips. Sucking his cock, she never goes further than she needs to, taking him only to the back of her throat and stopping well short of choking herself on his phallus.

Her technique is undeniable, however. The way her tongue lashes at his cockhead, while her fingers wrap around the base of his cock… after a moment, she moves those same fingers down to his balls, casually cupping his nut sack and fondling it happily as she slides her lips up and down the first half of his dick.

Soon enough, he's rock hard, covered in her saliva. Not her spit or drool though, never that. Fleur was too much of a lady for that sort of thing. She leaves a glistening layer upon his cock as her lips depart from his member with a quiet sigh. Then, she looks up at him, eyes hooded and filled with lust.

"I do hope you're game to return the favor, 'Arry."

His cock twitching and rock hard, Harry just raises an eyebrow at that, as if to silently ask if she's serious. Fleur giggles in response and rises from her seat at long last. Dropping her hold on his balls, the gorgeous French Witch sways her hips as she walks over to where he was sat, the desks and chairs having all been pushed over to that side of the classroom.

Harry follows after, and wonders if she wants to recreate the scene she just painted or something. But it doesn't seem like it, because while Fleur's next act is to tap her wand on her clothes, causing them to swirl up and expose her naked body in mere moments, she doesn't actually beckon for him to sit down.

Instead, the bombshell of a woman bends over the chair in front of her, and arches her back beautifully, offering herself up to Harry with her legs spread wide and her glistening cunt lips visible between her pale thighs. Looking back over her shoulder at him, Fleur's eyes are filled with amorous intent as she licks her lips suggestively.

"Come, 'Arry. Take that fat hog of yours and fuck me like Bill never could. Reach the deepest parts of me, erase all memory of his tiny prick! I want you to fuck my brains out, 'Arry! I want to feel eet!"

She's positively panting with need, some of the elegant image she was portraying up to this point discarded as she shakes her ass back at him. In turn, Harry's cock twitches with need, and he takes a step forward, grabbing her by her hips, lining up with her from behind.

There's no doubt that he's going to fuck her… but the badmouthing of Bill Weasley… he's not sure how he feels about that, even now. Should he shut it down? Let it be? Or even… partake and dole out some insults of his own?

Harry frowns, considering the dilemma as he lathers up the tip of his cock upon Fleur's gushing slit, teasing her quite effectively as she moans and whimpers and bucks her hips in anticipation, just waiting for him to finally thrust in and fuck her.

Chapter 34: Fleur Delacour Pt. 2

In the end, his decision isn't really about Bill Weasley. Look, Harry doesn't have anything against the guy personally… but Fleur's grievances against Bill are legitimate. You make the vows that Bill made, you better be ready to keep them. And cheating on a woman like Fleur? The man was an idiot, full stop. Harry might have found that he was the kind of wizard who liked to sleep around, but HE wasn't married to anyone, now was he?

Still, all in all… he didn't like hearing Fleur constantly talking about Bill. Especially when they were about to have sex. And more than that… this was about bringing Fleur on board. Dividing and conquering. Hermione was going to get in close with Triss, and Harry was going to get in close with Fleur so they could use the French Veela to seal the deal with the Charms Professor. It was really that simple… but if they were going to make it work, then Fleur needed to be thinking about one man and one man only. Harry himself.

And so, with Fleur's ass wiggling right in front of him even beneath his grip, Harry narrows his eyes… and lets out a low growl as he slams home into her cunt. He doesn't just fill her with his cock, he positively penetrates her, stuffing himself as deep inside of the beautiful part veela woman as he possibly can. Doing so feels good… but this isn't about feeling good. This is about leaving an impression. It's about sending a message.

"Yesssss! More, 'Arry! I want to feel you! I wan-nnngh!"

Reaching forward, Harry hooks his fingers into the side of Fleur's mouth before she can bring up her ex-husband AGAIN. Instead, he fishhooks her, ultimately turning her words into incomprehensible gurgling. He does the same on the other side of her mouth as well with his other hand, and with his fingers hooked into her jaw… Harry begins to fuck her in earnest.

Fleur gasps and gurgles and moans but cannot form a word any longer. Harry, for his part, growls louder as he leans over her, fucking her with powerful strokes from behind.

"You talk too much, Fleur."

He knows he's on the right track when he feels Fleur's pussy clench down HARD around his cock. The veela likes to be talked down to, he guesses. Despite her confidence act from earlier, despite her attitude… she liked it when a man got a little rough with her. Or maybe she likes it when Harry in particular gets a little rough with her. Either way, he's definitely not against taking advantage of her arousal.

Using his fingers in the sides of Fleur's mouth, Harry yanks her back away from the chair she'd bent over. He turns her around, making her walk into the center of the classroom as he continues to pound into her from behind.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

The sound of his thighs slapping against her ass cheeks fills the room as he positively claps her posterior while fucking her nonstop. The squelching noises of his cock going in and out of her pussy aren't quite as loud, but they're still very audible. And finally, there's the gurgling coming from her open mouth as he gags her with his fingers.

There's nothing elegant about Fleur Delacour anymore. She is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, reduced to the basest form of a woman at the moment, just as Harry has reduced himself to the basement form of a man. He's like a damn caveman right now, taking and fucking his heart out as he grunts and snarls like… like some animalistic beast.

But hey, it's working for Fleur. Her pussy spasms and clenches down around his cock non-fucking-stop. She cums over and over again for him, and it's clear to Harry that he's hit some sort of… button for the part veela. Whether he really is going deeper inside of her than any man before him has ever been, or she's just really enjoying his cock, Harry couldn't say.

One thing is for sure though, he's not going to last forever… so he has to make what time he does have count. Pounding into Fleur with all his might, making her gurgle and sputter around his fingers, Harry doesn't let up.

Still, at a certain point his arms start to feel the strain of being wrapped along the length of her body in order to fishhook her. At a certain point, he needs to give them a break. So he does, pulling his digits out of her mouth and bringing his hands down to her chest instead. He grabs Fleur's tits without a second thought, giving the beautiful French woman's soft, pale breasts a good hard squeeze as she lets out a gurgling moan.

"Ooooh, 'Arry…"

He can hardly believe she's still capable of coherent thought, let alone speech. Fuck, he's really giving it his all here. Despite debasing and degrading her, despite intensely fucking her in the middle of the classroom, her art studio, her sanctum… Fleur is still cognizant. And just as he fears, the next thing out of her mouth.

"Bill could never have-!"

"Will you shut the fuck up about Bill Weasley, Fleur?"

He's at his wit's end, to be honest. Otherwise, he might have said it differently. Fleur whips her head around, glaring at him for a moment. Then, she pulls out of his grasp, yanking herself off of his cock. Harry half-expects her to tell him to get out, but instead, she turns around and leaps at him, taking him to the floor and re-impaling herself on his dick right then and there.

Suddenly on his back, winded and slightly dazed, Harry blinks, before realizing that at some point, this had abruptly become a fuck-fight instead of just a normal bout of sex. The French Veela on top of him hisses as she drives herself down his length.

"And why should I, 'Arry? Why shouldn't I badmouth that bastard every chance I get, hm?"

He's not about to be cowed, damn it. No matter how fucking sexy Fleur is… no matter how hot she is. And that last part is literal as well as figurative. As he grabs Fleur by her hips, she almost feels like she's burning up, like she has a fever. Harry barely notices this, even as he flips them both over, putting her on HER back and fucking her even harder.

"I don't give two shits about Bill Weasley. You're not going to see me defending your ex-husband, Fleur. But it's obvious you're not entirely over him, if you can't go two minutes with me fucking you without thinking about him."

Fleur's eyes widen as Harry drops that little truth bomb on her. And it is the truth, as far as he figures. He doesn't think Fleur is still in love with Bill. Maybe a little part of her, but if Harry had to guess, he would say Fleur's love for Bill had turned into hatred. See, that was a common misconception. That love and hatred were completely opposite from one another.

They were actually two sides of the same coin, and much more closely tied together then anyone cared to acknowledge. The opposite of both love and hatred wasn't each other… it was apathy.

And if there was one thing Fleur CLEARLY wasn't feeling right now towards Bill Weasley, it was fucking apathy. And sure, maybe her feelings were valid and fair, but at the same time…

Surging forward, Harry doesn't give Fleur a chance to speak again. He covers her mouth with his own and sticks her tongue halfway down her throat. She freezes up for a moment, the absolutely drop-dead gorgeous woman beneath him. If you'd told Harry back in his Fourth Year that he'd be fucking Fleur Delacour, he would have laughed at you. After all, she was just… so far out of his league, right?

Well, no as it turned out, she wasn't. Not only was she now single, but apparently she'd carried something of a torch for him all this time as well. And Harry… Harry was latching onto that fact, and the painting she'd done of them, as hard as he possibly could. He was using it to bolster his self-esteem, to inflate his courage. Because if he didn't, he might not be able to keep up this façade of a rough, domineering wizard, especially when face to face with a man-eater like Fleur apparently was.

Or maybe… maybe hers was an act as well. The epiphany strikes Harry mid-thrust, and he only starts fucking Fleur again when she lets out a muffled noise of confusion against his lips. Plowing into her, kissing her deeply, Harry reaches up and tweaks her nipples, grabbing her breasts again and rubbing his palms against her teats as she squeals into his mouth.

She hasn't tried to regain the top position since he flipped them over. Nor has she tried to break the lip lock of her own accord. Was it possible that everything Fleur had done so far was… an act? He'd always thought her to be a man-eater because of her beautiful looks and her veela heritage. But that wasn't very fair, now was it? Sure, Fleur was gorgeous. No doubt about that.

But as far as he knew, she hadn't had many boyfriends before Bill. There was her date to the Yule Ball, but even that hadn't gone anywhere, according to the Hogwarts Rumor Mill. She was… just as inexperienced as Harry. No, more than him after all he'd done this year. Harry had had to grow up fast, when it came to the world of sex. From being somewhat unresponsive in that first experience with Andromeda back in his home, to now after all he'd done and all the witches he'd fucked.

In comparison to all of that, Fleur was very nearly small potatoes. The only reason she'd been such a Mountain for Harry to try and climb was because of how he'd made her up in his own head. All along…

Pulling his mouth away from Fleur's, Harry looks the beautiful French Veela right in the eye.

"I'm going to cum soon, Fleur. I'm going to explode because you're so fucking sexy. I want you to tell me where to leave my load. And don't you dare say you want it inside just to remove the presence of Bill fucking Weasley."

Fleur flinches, and flushes, and averts her gaze. She looks down at where they're joined together for a moment, before letting out a shuddering breath.

"O-Outside… cover me in your seed, 'Arry. D-Do it… baptize me in your c-cum!"

Well, when she put it like that… Harry grunts, giving Fleur a few more savage thrusts, making her breasts bounce in a truly amazing manner before finally pulling out and cumming. His seed explodes all over her naked form, covering her just like she asked. Fleur, for her part, moans wantonly… and then the oddest thing happens. She begins to rub his cum into her body, but before Harry's eyes… it's already disappearing into her flesh. Or maybe… evaporating?

Fleur is burning up. She's pulsing with heat, and his cum is either absorbed into her body completely or turns to gas and floats away. Harry blinks at the display, not entirely sure what the fuck just happened if he's being honest. Fleur notices him looking however… and blushes profusely before slowly sitting up.

"I apologize, 'Arry. You 'ave caught me during my Veela Heat. We Veela are… fiery creatures at the best of times, even those of us who are only part veela. I am barely a quarter, and yet I still experience the Heats. I still experience the transformations."

Furrowing his brow, Harry can't help but clear his throat.

"I, uh… thought Veela were a type of magical bird?"

Smiling softly, Fleur nods.

"Yes… a Fire Bird, of sorts. Not unlike the Phoenix… though also not at all like the Phoenix. Eet is complicated, and as a part veela, my knowledge is limited by design. Still, I can tell you this much… you have a magical touch. Eet is not just any wizard who can tame a Veela in the heart of passion. I was moments away from hurting you, if you had not… taken control."

Harry raises his eyebrows at that, prompting Fleur to flinch and look away.

"… You did not zhink Bill cheated on me for no reason, do you? Our love life was… decidedly fraught with peril. 'E could not handle it. And so, eventually… 'e strayed."

That did explain it a bit more. Fleur was an exceptionally beautiful woman, someone that most men would say Bill had no business cheating on. In that context, it almost made sense. But of course, Harry wasn't stupid enough to say that.

"I'm sorry, Fleur. That sounds difficult."

For a long moment, they fall into an awkward silence, the two of them naked, Fleur… momentarily covered in his cum, but no trace of it even remaining at this point. Meanwhile, Harry is wondering just how to broach the subject of Triss Merigold and how Fleur can help him out. He wants her on board willingly, of course. He has no desire to blackmail her, or anything as foolish as that.

But before he can speak, before he can find the words to say, Fleur pipes up instead, coming to a decision.

"… Eet is worse for my leetle sister."

Blinking, Harry tilts his head to the side.

"Gabrielle?"

Fleur nods.

"Yes, 'Arry. Gabrielle could use your help. I do not know if you recall, but she was only one year younger than you. This time is… a difficult one for Veela, even part veela like us. I was lucky enough to experience eet the year before the Triwizard Tournament. She though… she is experiencing her Veela Puberty much stronger than I did."

Suddenly, Fleur grabs him by his hands, looking at him imploringly from her position naked on the floor.

"Please, 'Arry. Will you come to Chateau Delacour in France this weekend? Will you agree to at least meet with my leetle sister?"

Harry just gapes, caught completely off guard. On the one hand… it was exactly the in he was looking for. On the other, he didn't really want to make Fleur beholden to him… even if it probably was necessary. Still, Gabrielle… it was true she would be a grown young woman now, but at the same time, how could he see her as anything less than the girl he rescued from the Lake all those years ago?

Picturing Gabrielle all grown up, looking like Fleur did back during Harry's fourth year… okay yeah, he could easily see her as more than that girl. He could easily see her as her own woman.

… Shit.

Chapter 35: Apolline Delacour

In the end, Harry can't bring himself to say no. For a moment, he toys with the idea of having Fleur bring Gabrielle here… but then imagines a mini-Fleur with Narcissa Malfoy's affliction running around Hogwarts. He blanches at the thought, recognizing that Gabrielle was right where she was meant to be. Chateau Delacour was no doubt a safe, secure, and all around friendly location for the young veela woman to adapt to the changes she was going through.

And that meant he had no choice but to go to Chateau Delacour. Still, there is one small hiccup in their plan. As he nods his head at Fleur, leaving the beautiful French Witch looking relieved, Harry holds up a hand, preempting the words of thanks no doubt on her beautiful lips.

"I'm happy to go to Chateau Delacour this weekend, Fleur. Even if I cannot begin to imagine how one single weekend will be enough time to help Gabrielle. However, aren't you forgetting something?"

Fleur's brow furrows at that, her lips pursing together cutely as she tilts her head to the side… also cutely. She IS part veela, after all.

"Non? Forgetting what?"

Chuckling, Harry shakes his head.

"I only need the Headmistress' permission to leave the Castle for a weekend, and I have it. I have blanket permission to leave whenever necessary, in fact. But you… don't you need the new Charms Professor to sign off on any departures, given you ARE her Assistant and she's relying on your help to prepare for the next week's classes?"

The light of realization dawns in Fleur's eyes, and for a moment she does look worried. But then that worry clears up and she smiles.

"Ah, I would not worry about Professor Merigold. She is actually quite sweet and very understanding. She will let me go, do not fret 'Arry."

Considering what HE knows about Triss Merigold and the group she's part of, he has to wonder. Maybe under normal circumstances the Charms Professor would be fine to spare Fleur for a weekend, especially when it was coached in such terms as 'family emergency'.

But… what would the red head do when she found out Harry was going along too? Neither she nor the others in the Lodge of Sorceresses could block him from leaving the Castle, and to be fair they hadn't tried. Andromeda would have told him if they had. But he wouldn't put it past them, if they were getting fed up with his reclusiveness, to start playing hard ball where they could, like blocking Fleur's efforts to take him to her family holdings in France.

… Well, it was out of Harry's hands, wasn't it? He couldn't really do anything about it unless Triss actually did deny Fleur the weekend away. And so, for now he merely nods to Fleur, even as he straightens up.

"Very well then, I'll leave that to you to get approved. If all goes well, we shall leave for your family home this weekend."

Fleur blinks, and then gives him a coquettish smile and splays herself out, posing sexily for him at his feet.

"You are not done with me just yet, are you 'Arry? Eet would be quite the shame to end things here…"

Blinking, Harry looks down at Fleur Delacour for a long moment… and then sinks back to meet her, his cock twitching in need and arousal as he lets himself be drawn into her warm, soft, lustful embrace once more. It would indeed be quite the shame to end things there…

-x-X-x-

In the end, Triss Merigold is not the obstacle Harry expects her to be. But then, that may or may not have had something to do with recent decisions he himself had made of late. Namely, the decision to let Hermione help.

Apparently, his brunette friend had not been idle. She'd not waited one single second before going to Triss and making friends with the Charms Professor, because as Fleur explained it, when she'd gone to ask Triss for the weekend off, the red head had assured her it was fine, even exclaiming that she would just have 'Ms. Granger' help her out and pick up any extra work that Fleur's absence would cause.

All's well that ended well, Harry supposed, though he would need to check in with Hermione after the weekend was done and make sure everything was going alright on her end. For now however, he could only rely upon the brunette to play things safe and continue to be the smart cookie he knew her to be.

As of this moment, he was all the way on the continent, after all, in France, specifically in Chateau Delacour, being shown around by his host, Fleur Delacour.

"And this is the South Parlor Room of course, where-!"

"Fleur."

It had been amusing at first, but by this point Harry was getting a little irritated. And slightly famished. Maybe if Fleur had at any point used this impromptu tour to get up to no good with him, engaging in sexy times in any one of these dozens of very fancy, very French-looking rooms… but no. Instead, the French Witch almost seemed nervous about something.

She stops in her tracks at Harry's slightly exasperated tone and looks at him wide-eyed, as if surprised that she was caught out.

"Are we not here for Gabrielle? We only have the weekend, Fleur."

"A-Ah, yes… about that…"

Harry's brow furrows in confusion, his lips curling downwards into a frown. Was this some sort of trap? Was Gabrielle even here? His suspicions begin to grow and he begins to surreptitiously reach for his wand. But before he can do anything, Fleur finally blurts something out, all in a rush.

"IdidnottellmymotherIwasbringingyou!"

It takes Harry a moment to actually parse what Fleur just said. When he does, he blinks slowly.

"Your mother."

"Y-Yes. My mother, Apolline Delacour. She is… unaware of your presence. And due to Gabrielle's condition, she has been spending most of every day at my leetle sister's side. I was hoping to wait for her to succumb to exhaustion before bringing you to see Gabrielle, 'Arry."

Oh. Well that was just… no. No way. Harry wasn't going to disrespect Fleur's mom like that, especially not in her own house. Helping Gabrielle was one thing. But doing so under the nose of Fleur's mother, behind her back? He didn't sign up for that. That said, he DID sign up to help Gabrielle, and he had every intention of still doing so… with her mother's permission.

"Fleur, you're going to go get your mother and tell her I'm here. Let her know…"

Harry glances around for a moment before smiling ruefully.

"Let her know that I await her in the South Parlor Room at her earliest convenience."

Fleur opens her mouth, looking a little hunted, but Harry cuts her off with a look.

"Fleur."

Fucking her silly and dominating her in the middle of her own Veela Heat had clearly won him some brownie points with the French Witch, because her teeth click shut and she looks suitably chastised and cowed as she lowers her head in submission.

"… Very well, 'Arry."

With that, Fleur leaves the room, leaving Harry to his own devices. Looking around for a moment, Harry lets out a sigh and draws his wand, conjuring up his own tea service and settling down on one of the lounges in front of a nice, ornate little table.

By the time Apolline Delacour sweeps into the room, Harry is sipping from a piping hot cup of tea, enjoying it immensely despite the fact that none of it is real. Conjuration is funny like that. It tastes real, and quite good at that, but it will poof into nothing in his body within the hour.

Setting his tea cup down, Harry regards Apolline Delacour, even as Fleur and Gabrielle's mother regards him in turn. As a half-Veela, Apolline Delacour doesn't look her age. She could very well be Fleur's older sister, rather than her mother. She's drop-dead gorgeous, and unlike with Fleur, Harry actually feels her allure tickling at the edge of his senses.

With Fleur, he's never once been taken in by her allure, unlike some of the wizards he remembered from back in his Fourth Year. But with her mother, he gets something. Not much, but something. He doesn't let it show on his face, however. Instead, he schools his expression into one of politeness, offering Apolline a smile and a nod before gesturing to the empty tea cup.

"Tea, Lady Delacour?"

Raising a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow at that, the French half-Veela strides over and takes a seat, pouring herself a cup of tea as she studies him quietly. Harry has to admit, he's a little bit surprised. The way Fleur was acting, he expected Apolline to come in here guns blazing. He expected her to be pissed that Fleur had invited him without asking for her permission. He expected her to blow up at him, to rage and snarl and yell at him to get out.

… He expected a lot of things that aren't happening right now, and instead he's getting near-silence, as Apolline very quietly sips from her own tea cup before nodding ever so slightly.

"… You 'ave come to fuck my daughter. Zhat iz why you are 'ere, non?"

Harry blinks, noting that Apolline's accent is even stronger than Fleur's. At the same time, he's taken aback by her sheer bluntness. Is that why he's here? Would he be lying if he said no?

"… If necessary, I am prepared to help Gabrielle in any way that I can. Fleur was under the impression that my presence would be useful. If you believe otherwise, then perhaps I should leave."

Apolline falls into silence again, the gorgeous MILF considering his words as she looks at him with lidded eyes. Harry begins to feel a little hot under the collar… and realizes that the half-Veela is ramping up her allure in real time, consciously controlling it to increase the pressure it's exerting on him. It's still nothing intolerable or unmanageable, but it does feel a bit… hostile for her to be doing so when he's trying his best to be polite.

But perhaps that's the point. Is this a test? Why is he even asking himself that? Of course it's a test. Said test started when Apolline came to meet with him while Fleur no doubt stayed behind with her sister. All Harry can do now is try to pass with flying colors.

"What makes you zhink you can handle my daughter, 'Arry Potter? Gabrielle iz deep in her very first Veela 'Eat. She has been unmanageable for quite some time now."

Apolline's questioning tone is not… completely accusatory. But it is probing, the gorgeous half-Veela peering at him curiously from across the table. Harry straightens up self-consciously, squaring his shoulders as he considers how best to answer her. In the end, he decides for brutal honesty. It'll either get him kicked out or get his foot in the door, so he figures he might as well go for it, right?

"Because I already helped Fleur with hers."

Far from overly surprised, Apolline merely lifts that same perfectly sculpted eyebrow from before, quietly waiting for him to elaborate.

"Fleur said it herself. I have a magical touch. She said it's not just any wizard who can tame a Veela in the heat of the moment. I took control, I stabilized her, and I made her very, very happy. And now I'm here, willing to do the same for Gabrielle."

Humming consideringly, Apolline takes another sip of her conjured tea. She has said nothing of whether it's good or not, but Harry would assume it's good, since the conjuration is based off of the best tasting tea he's ever had. Still, it would be just like a snooty French woman to say his British tastebuds were shit, right? The fact that Apolline was refraining… well, it made it clear how grave the situation really was.

"… And you expect me to believe zhat your intentions are pure, 'Arry Potter? You swoop in claiming you will 'elp my daughter overcome her current… difficulties, and ask for notheeng in return? Suspicious iz it not, non?"

… He could see why she might think that way. But at the same time, Harry doesn't like having his character questioned. Especially when he's never given anyone, least of all Apolline Delacour, reason to doubt it. And he's noticed how she's ignoring his title. Technically, he is Lord Potter. But instead, she's addressing him by his full name each time. It smacks of casual disrespect, even if it's delivered in a carefree tone, as though she really is just enjoying a spot of tea with an acquaintance.

"… I expect to be given the trust that I have earned. I may not be closely tied to the Delacour Clan, but I have long considered myself a friend to your daughters, Lady Delacour. Your eldest daughter and I competed in the same tournament when I was younger and Fleur was Gabrielle's current age. In that same tournament, I went out of my way to do what I thought I had to do to save Gabrielle's life, despite her not truly being in danger."

He doesn't mention the Weasleys or Fleur's failed marriage, and when Apolline doesn't mention it either, he knows he's made the right call there. Instead, the gorgeous half-Veela nods her head in solemn agreement, considering his words for a long moment before setting down her tea cup and rising to her feet. Then and only then does she unleash the full weight of her allure onto him.

For a moment, but only a moment, Harry is pinned to his chair, stunned by Apolline's beauty. Then, he overcomes her allure and rises to his feet, growling as he holds his wand in his hand.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Apolline makes no further move to attack him, but that doesn't change the fact that she did just launch an offensive action against him. Still, running a hand down her dress… the half-Veela French Witch wordlessly and wandlessly vanishes her clothing, exposing her ethereal beauty to him in its entirety, her nudity suddenly on display as she gazes at him intensely.

"Fleur's heat as a quarter-Veela iz notheeng compared to what Gabrielle iz dealing with right now, 'Arry Potter. A Veela's first heat iz always zhe worst. If you are to handle Gabrielle… then you must prove you can handle ME first!"

Harry gapes at that. Was she serious?! But then, looking her up and down… she certainly looked seriously. Honestly, how did this keep happening to him?!

Chapter 36: Apolline Delacour Pt. 2

No! Harry stiffens, as he realizes that his wishy-washy, woe-is-me attitude… it was a result of Apolline's allure, wasn't it? The way he was bemoaning his 'fate'… he was playing the victim, all because her allure, sneaky as it was, was pushing down on him even now. It's an insidious thing, and with a growl, Harry shakes his head, clearing such thoughts from his mind.

He refused to be… toyed with. If Apolline wanted to play games, then he would play them right back. If she wanted to be a bitch, he would treat her like one. He'd tamed Fleur, hadn't he? He would tame her mother as well.

"If that's the want it has to be… then so be it!"

His wand still held in his hand, Harry turns it on himself just as Apolline Delacour did, and vanishes his clothing as well. He stands tall and proud as Apolline's eyes widen for a moment in surprise at his audacity. Her gaze slides down his naked body, fixating upon his cock… and for just a split second, Harry sees something akin to shock and trepidation.

It's gone as fast as it possibly could be, but he still notices it. It seems impossible, but… could it be that Apolline Delacour has never seen someone of his size before? It doesn't make much sense, Harry has never imagined himself to be incredibly endowed, just above average. And the beautiful naked veela woman in front of him is the mother of two equally beautiful girls. For her to be lacking experience in the size department… it would boggle the mind, if Harry were letting anything truly baffle him.

As it is, Apolline's trepidation lasts less than a moment before she's as confident as ever, smirking as she stalks forward. The two of them stand to a height with one another. Neither has an advantage over the other in that department. They see pretty much exactly eye to eye as the naked half-Veela presses her chest into his, her large breasts squishing against his pecs.

"Good boy, 'Arry Potter. You've stripped for me. Now… you may kneel and worship your Queen!"

The attempt to take control of the situation is as blunt as a sledgehammer, but then… when accompanied by the full force of Apolline's allure, Harry isn't sure it would matter how subtle she tried to be, normally. She's not letting up, not holding back with that allure of hers. Still, if this is what Gabrielle is going to feel like, then Harry can only be grateful to Apolline. Now he knows what he's getting into, after all.

Doesn't mean he's going to hold back on his end, however. Pushing back against the allure, pushing back against the invasive thoughts of doubt and confusion, Harry grits his teeth and glares Apolline down.

"No. I don't think so. I think YOU are going to get down on your knees and shut your own mouth with my big… fat… cock."

It's a gamble, for sure. A Hail Mary, undoubtedly. He's going off that single split second of trepidation he saw and expounding upon it right here and right now. Apolline Delacour stiffens, before taking a half step back, looking down between their bodies with the new space she's created to stare at his hardening cock. Said member is rising fast, and when Harry steps forward, it presses against her abdomen, right above her womb.

He's the one to advance this time as she unknowingly gives ground. He's the one to push forward and force her to freeze in place as their chests push together once more. His cock, leaking precum, rubs against her soft belly, making Apolline tremble a bit as she tries to muster up a defiant look, as she tries to lean even more heavily into her allure.

But as she's rapidly realizing… Harry is pushing down her allure and fully resisting it through sheer Force of Will. As they look into each other's eyes, Apolline recognizes in him… someone who won't back down. In that moment, something has to give… and to Harry's pleasant surprise, it's Fleur and Gabrielle's mother.

"… F-Fine. But know zhis, 'Arry Potter. I am not doing zhis for you, I am-mmph!"

Apolline sinks down to her knees, and Harry decides to shut her up then and there, gathering her hair in his fist and shoving his cock into the MILF's open mouth mid-sentence without so much as a 'by your leave'. He growls down at her as he begins to fuck her face right there on the spot, her eyes wide and staring up at him in abject surprise.

"I don't care why you're doing this. I'm only here to help Gabrielle. You know, your daughter? If I have to teach you a lesson first, then I will."

It's very, very clear that Apolline Delacour has never been with a wizard, or even a man, who acted like this around her. But then, if what Harry had deduced about the veela allure was correct, it made sense didn't it? Apolline's allure, when it worked, would make any man indecisive, unsure of himself, and ultimately… submissive.

But it didn't work on him, and it was obvious that Fleur and Gabrielle's mother didn't know what to make of that.

"Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!"

He enjoys face fucking the gorgeous older MILF for a little while, admittedly… but after a time, it feels like he's doing all the work. And Apolline… isn't exactly resisting. In fact, one hand is stuck down between her legs, and the half-Veela is going to town on herself, even as her tongue swirls around his cockhead whenever his member is far enough out of her mouth. As he slows down the deep-throat blowjob, the audible sounds of squishing, squelching noises from her fingers working in and out of her cunt down below fill the air.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry yanks Apolline back off of his cock altogether, causing her to gasp and stare up at him again questioningly.

"It seems you're enjoying this more than I am. Slut."

The older woman blushes profusely and opens her mouth to speak, but as much as that heavy French accent of hers is an immense turn on, Harry overrides her, cutting her off before she can get so much as a word out.

"I don't see why I have to do all the work here. Use those fat milk jugs of yours, you cow. Wrap them around my cock."

He's DEFINITELY taking a big gamble here, acting like this with Apolline Delacour. But it's an educated guess… and while she does hesitate for a moment at his choice of words, ultimately she leans up on her knees, pushing herself up so she can wrap her tits around his dick. She looks up at him almost… hopefully while doing so, clearly looking for approval while she begins to give his spit-polished cock a proper titjob.

Apolline's breasts are even bigger than Fleur's and feel absolutely heavenly upon his dick. Harry growls in enjoyment, groaning in the back of his throat as he holds her by her hair even now, slowly nodding.

"Good girl."

Throwing her own words back in her face seems to send a jolt through the beautiful older half-Veela. Apolline flinches… and then bites her lower lip, glancing down at his cock, continuing to shake and slide her fat titties up and down his length. Finally, completely of her own volition, she leans down and takes the tip of his dick back in her mouth, sucking on it as it comes bursting out of the top of her cleavage time and time again.

All the while, she's still using her allure on him. He can feel it. Whether she doesn't think to turn it off, or whether she still thinks she can turn this around on him, Harry doesn't know. Her allure doesn't do any of what it's supposed to. It doesn't make him obsessed with her. It doesn't make him want to submit to her. It just makes him mad. More… it makes him aggressive.

He's soon thrusting into the valley of Apolline Delacour's tits and past her lips with gusto, growling as he does so. At first, she's doing all the work, just as he demanded of her… but eventually, she's just holding her tits aloft and keeping her mouth open as he fucks into her cleavage and maw without hesitation. It feels good, taking control… dominating the half-Veela with all his might. His magic almost sings to him that this… this is exactly what he should be doing.

Staring up at him, Apolline looks… well, she doesn't look like the older witch that she's supposed to be. She doesn't look like the mother of two that she's supposed to be. She looks in over her head, and it begins to dawn on Harry that a woman who could have any man thanks to her allure… might never understand what it meant to have a man who took what he wanted from her.

If he hadn't fucked Fleur like this already and tamed her with his cock, Harry might not have ever understood what Apolline Delacour was truly looking for. But now? Staring down at the half-Veela French Witch? He understood perfectly.

With a hoarse groan and zero other warning, Harry proceeds to pull back from Apolline's mouth though not her tits, and cum all over her face and chest. His seed explodes from his member like a fountain, spraying across her features before ultimately rebounding onto her expansive, pale chest. It flows all over her, making an utter mess of her front, the sticky and hot substance dribbling and drooling down her body.

Apolline, for her part, just kneels there in front of him, panting heavily as she continues to hold up her cum-coated tits absently, even after he pulls his cock free of them and jerks off the last few ropes of cum onto her face. She blinks rapidly, while Harry strokes himself in front of her.

He almost asks if she's happy with that much. He almost puts the ball back in her court by demanding to know if she's satisfied. But staring down at her, the words on his lips… Harry realizes he can't do that. He won't do that. He's not going to give Apolline a single way to get back into the 'game' so to speak. They might have started as players, but he's the only one toying with anyone here now. And he wants to keep it that way. He refuses to give up his advantage.

With a twist of his wand, he restrains Apolline. An hour ago, he wouldn't have dared treat a woman like this in her own home. But things chased fast, and Apolline was the one who had put the challenge to HIM in the first place, wasn't she?

Her arms are suddenly yanked behind her back, and her legs snap together, as her entire body lifts off the ground and is floated over to the nearby couch. She's suddenly hogtied without the physical hogtying, her position leaving her face down in the couch cushion and her ass high in the air as she gasps and sputters through his seed, which even now is staining her upholstery.

But Apolline either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She's too busy marveling at him.

"Your magic… it iz intoxicating…"

A wanton moan leaves her lips, and she wiggles her hips. Harry snorts derisively and moves into position behind her. Kneeling on the couch himself, he grabs her full, pale ass with both hands, digging his fingers into her cheeks and spreading them wide before him. For a moment, he considers it… but no, he'd leave anal for another day.

Instead, Harry's eyes go lower to Apolline's slutty, sopping wet pussy. And without further ado, he lines up and thrusts in.

The magically bound half-Veela squeals loudly, positively shrieking as she cums on his cock immediately. She must have been primed for it, must have edged herself with her fingers all this time until finally he stuck it in. Still, it only emboldens Harry on further. She's so tight but also so wet, and he can't help fucking the MILF with all his might.

More than that… he wants to tame her, he finds. He wants to make her submit, just as he managed to do with Fleur. And so… that's what Harry aims for.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Apolline's moans and squeals and shrieks fill the air, as he spanks her ass silly while fucking her hard from behind. He pounds into every last inch of her cunt, ramming away at her pussy like there's no tomorrow, while also abusing and using every inch of her body. He spanks her for a time, but then moves his hands down and around, wanting to get a good feel of her tits as well.

Thanks to the couch, they're even mostly clean by the time he yanks her up off of the cushion and into the air, his hands groping her cum-coated breasts as his cock barrels into her sopping cunt again and again.

Eventually, his hands do begin to feel a little messy… but luckily, Harry has a way of cleaning up right here, doesn't he? He moves his hands from Apolline Delacour's massive milk jugs to her mouth one at a time, forcing his fingers past her lips and enjoying how she submissively sucks them clean one by one. Then, he does the same with the other hand, while returning the first to her chest to grope and knead and maul her tits again.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the parlor, as Harry puts Fleur and Gabrielle's mother in her place. It wasn't something he'd set out to do. It wasn't something he'd come here for. But here he was all the same, and he would not be denied. If Apolline had just told him to leave, outright rejecting his help, he would have gone.

But no, she wanted to play games. She wanted to put barriers in place. She wanted his help, but also wanted her own cut. She was a fucking slut, and he would treat her like one.

With a growl, Harry pulls out at the last second and cums all over Apolline Delacour's back for good measure. He paints the beautiful older woman with his seed for a second time, even as she tenses for a moment… and then bucks her hips and moans as best she can in her magical hog tie, cumming her brains out from the feel of his sticky semen dripping down her back and backside.

Snorting derisively, Harry pulls away and gets up off of the couch. He stands there naked, belatedly realizing that vanishing his clothes might have not been the best idea. But ultimately, he can't bring himself to care. It's done.

"I'm going to go help your daughter now, Apolline. Feel free to speak up if you're still against it… but I think we both know you won't."

He couldn't bring himself to address her as "Lady Delacour" anymore if he tried. Her first name is the most respect he can muster for the fucked silly MILF at this point.

For her part, Apolline just gurgles, even as he releases her from the magical bondage and she slumps to the couch, splayed out upon it. Seeing she's in no state to respond, Harry just snorts and turns to leave the room, beginning to make his way through the Chateau Delacour completely naked. It was time to deal with Gabrielle.

Chapter 37: Gabrielle Delacour

As he walks through the halls of Chateau Delacour, Harry reflects on what just happened between him and Apolline Delacour. He would have liked to think that it wasn't completely him, that it was Apolline's allure agitating him to the point of aggression. But the truth was, he knew better at this point. If her allure had actually worked on him, it would have made him more pliant and submissive, not more aggressive and domineering.

Maybe this was him. Maybe this was who he was. One thing was for sure… he had a job to do, and he wasn't leaving without getting it done.

"'Arry!"

Turning the corner, Harry isn't surprised to see a fretful Fleur outside of what had to be Gabriel's bedroom, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth nervously. At seeing him and NOT seeing her mother, Fleur Delacour stops in her tracks, looking VERY uncertain.

"U-um… I…"

Reaching her, Harry gives in to his impulses and grabs Fleur by the hair, pulling her into a deep, tongue-filled kiss. The part veela almost immediately capitulates, surrendering to the tongue he thrusts partway down the back of her throat. Moaning, she writhes in his grip, even as he reaches out with his other hand and fondles one of her tits, manhandling her like… well, like the man he is.

Eventually, they do pull apart, though not before Harry has left Fleur panting and gasping and not just for air either. Blushing profusely, the beautiful blonde French witch wiggles as he looks her directly in the eye.

"M-My mother?"

The smirk that spreads across his face comes much too easily, but Harry doesn't fight it as he shakes his head.

"Taken care of."

The quiver that runs through Fleur's body catches his eye. Did she just cum from that? He's half-tempted to investigate… before deciding he really doesn't need to hold himself back, not with the Delacours.

Reaching down, he slides his hand right up under Fleur's dress and into her panties. She gasps, her own hands grabbing at his arm. Not to push him away from her, but for support as she doubles over his fingers, which slide right into her incredibly sticky, sopping wet cunt.

To be fair, he can't say for certain whether she was just this aroused the entire time, or whether she'd just freshly orgasmed. In the end, it doesn't really matter because within a few moments of him beginning to nonchalantly and roughly finger her, Fleur Delacour cums all the same, her inner walls flexing and clenching down around his cock as she lets out a pitiful whine in the back of her throat.

"Nnngh~"

Harry watches her in amusement and pleasure for a moment before withdrawing from her. Fleur gasps as his hands leave her body, forcing her to collapse back against the wall for support. For a moment, she looks downright plaintive, as though she's going to beg him to take care of her needs… but to her credit, she stops herself after a moment, forcing herself to stay quiet. After all, her sister is right through that door, and Gabrielle is the reason Harry is even here.

Harry knows the younger veela is through the door, because he can feel her. It's how he knew where to go in the first place, his instincts guiding him towards this part of the Chateau. Once he made up his mind to search her out and help her, it was all too easy, as though Gabrielle had become a beacon. There was nothing for it, really.

Turning away from Fleur, Harry squares his shoulders as he steps up to the door to Gabrielle Delacour's quarters. If he can feel her this strongly without even being in the same room as her… well, it is what it is. Steeling himself, Harry reaches for the door handle and pushes inside.

He is… immediately buffeted by waves and waves of arousal and lust. Gabrielle's allure is out of control. Now to be fair, Harry already knew that. It was sort of the point of him being here in the first place. But you know what they said… seeing was believing.

Laid out on the bed, panting and twisting and turning in a cute little nightie, is Gabrielle Delacour. She's covered from head to toe in sweat, but far from stinking up the place or coming across as disgusting or gross… her scent hits Harry's nostrils like a stunning spell and he's rock hard in mere moments. Luckily he hadn't bothered to get redressed in any way. His cock grows hard in open air, standing at attention and bobbing up and down in the direction of Gabrielle and the bed in a handful of seconds.

That handful of seconds is all Gabrielle needs to realize she's not alone. The youngest Delacour positively shoots up in bed, her eyes zeroing in on Harry… and then more specifically, Harry's cock.

"… 'Arry? 'Arry P-Potter? Am I hallucinating… I don't understand… how can you be here?"

Of all the Delacour women, Gabrielle's accent is the weakest. It's only his name that she apparently can't quite get right, though he's not about to hold that against her. Instead, he watches her with a soft smile as he walks forward, deeper into the room.

"You're not hallucinating, Gabrielle. I really am here. Your sister sent for me. Your mother has… given her blessing. I'm here to help you."

Even as he takes a gentle tone with her, he's flexing his fingers. He's on edge to be honest. Gabrielle's allure… it's both worse and better than Apolline Delacour's. The part veela's half-veela mother wasn't completely honest about things. Her allure was barely comparable to Gabrielle's. Maybe they were similar in power, but Harry didn't even think that part was true.

What Apolline's allure had that Gabrielle's didn't, was a focused intent behind it. A very intelligent mind and a direction of purpose. Gabrielle's allure, on the other hand, was running wild. There was no other way of describing it. It wasn't even focused on him, though he was having to fight hard to not let it take him to his knees either literally or metaphorically.

Luckily, he'd already made his decision on how he was going to handle Gabrielle's first heat. Because the young veela doesn't wait for him to finish approaching the bed. She all but lunges at him, eyes wide and fingers outstretched like claws. Harry… Harry is ready for her.

His wand snaps up in his opposite hand and he arrests her momentum, stopping her midair mere inches away from him. His free, flexing hand comes up a moment later and wraps snugly around Gabrielle's throat, holding her by her neck right then and there.

"No, Gabrielle. That's not how this is going to work."

Gabrielle whines and struggles mightily against his magic. Mightier than her mother did, that's for sure. But Harry wasn't having it. He was prepared for this. Prepared to go rather… hard on the youngest Delacour. There'd been a moment when he'd been unsure if he would be able to separate the young Gabrielle he'd known years ago, from the young woman that was before him now.

But he no longer had those compunctions. Gabrielle Delacour was all grown up and ALL woman, her beautiful body staring him right in the face through the sweat-drenched, rather sheer nightie she's wearing.

As she fights with all her might to get her hands on him, likely to make him do all sorts of things to her, Harry just smiles. Luckily for her, he already planned to do those things. But they were going to do this HIS way.

"I've conquered your sister, Gabrielle. I've conquered your mother. Now, I'm going to conquer you."

His words hit her like hammers, knocking her out of her frenzy for a moment as she stares at him with newly rewidened eyes.

"F-Fleur? M-Mama?"

Harry nods.

"… T-They got you before I did?! They-MMPH!"

Gabrielle begins to howl at that, but Harry lunges forward and silences her with a not-so-simple kiss. He covers her mouth with his own, and in a mirror of what he just did with Fleur, he shoves his tongue past Gabrielle's lips, pushing deeply into her maw. The young part veela proves to be an enthusiastic kisser, kissing him right back. And slowly but surely, her struggles abate as he takes up her concentration with the impromptu makeout session.

Harry dominates Gabrielle's mouth for who knows how long, before pointing his wand at her and slowly pushing her back down to her bed with his magic. His other hand remains fixed on her throat, a reminder of just who's in charge here. Not that he expects her to just submit just yet… no, she's still in a somewhat frenzied state, and she would be all over him if he didn't have her held in place.

As it is, her allure is still buffeting against his senses nonstop. There's no helping that, but Harry is feeling better and better as things go on. Maybe he's developing some sort of resistance, or maybe Gabrielle is calming down. Either way… there's only one thing to do.

His hand on her throat comes down for a moment to grab hold of her nightie. He yanks it down her body, pulling it off of her shoulders, off of her arms, and down her torso to her legs. Gabrielle squeaks and wriggles and writhes as he forces it all the way down to her ankles and then off of her feet entirely. She's not wearing anything underneath it of course, leaving her pale, sweat-covered, glistening frame completely revealed before his eyes.

As Harry pushes her further back onto the bed, he spreads her legs wide, his cock slapping down upon her sopping pussy mound and her throbbing clit. Her nipples are also fully erect, standing at attention on the peaks of her twin perky breasts.

She looks imminently fuckable like this, and Harry only hesitates for a moment before sliding his cock down to her entrance, his tip pressing against her slit.

Gabrielle watches this with perpetually wide eyes, lips parted but no words coming out. She's not fighting him at the moment, but Harry knows better than to pull back on his magic. He continues to pin her down, both physically and magically, even as he slowly starts to push forward into her cunt. He does so on purpose, taking his time with it, even as Gabrielle whines and whimpers and begins to struggle again.

She's trying to hump her hips up into his cock, to make him fuck her faster. She's trying to turn the tables and flip them both over entirely, so she can take control even now. Harry doesn't even think she's doing it consciously… it's all instinct. A veela's natural instinct is to take control, to dominate, to be the aggressor.

But Harry has proved twice over already that those instincts can be reversed with the right wizard. And so he endeavors to do a third time, taking his time taking Gabrielle's virginity, showing her just who's in charge and that that's not going to change.

His hand goes back to her throat, and he forces her to look him in the eye.

"Mine. My pace. My control. My Gabrielle Delacour."

Gabrielle pants and whines… before frantically nodding.

"Y-Yes! Yes 'Arry! Yours! Just f-fuck me, please! Harder! I need it harder!"

He can tell she's not actually breaking or anything like that. She's just telling him what he wants to hear. But he can also tell that going slow and trying to tease it out of her isn't truly working. He needs to match her, energy for energy. If she won't match him… then he'll bring things up to her level and dominate her at every turn.

With a lustful growl, Harry picks up the pace. Gabrielle's reaction is instantaneous. Her eyes grow lidded, her lips form into a cute little o, and she lets out a melodic moan as her pussy walls clench around his cock in excitement. He begins to piston in and out of her harder and faster, and it's not long before she's losing it, happily so, upon his cock.

Her legs wrap around his waist, her toes curling as her feet bounce in the air behind him. The entire bed shakes with the force that Harry is putting behind his thrusts, pounding away into Gabrielle's pussy with reckless abandon. He's fucking her nonstop, and she's really responding, clearly loving every second of it. Her younger, suppler frame feels perfect under him, just like her mother and sister did. Harry honestly can't get enough of her… but he also recognizes he needs to stay in control, even now.

Leaning forward, he captures Gabrielle's mouth with his own again. He kisses her harshly and deeply, their tongues wrestling and swapping spit. His comes out on top though, as it must. He dominates her mouth just as he's dominating the rest of her, and slowly but surely he can feel Gabrielle truly giving way before him. It's harder than taming Fleur or Apolline was, to his surprise. Whether that's because the older two veela wanted it, or because Gabrielle doesn't know WHAT she wants in the middle of this heat, Harry does not know.

But one thing is for certain, and that's that he can't stop now. So he doesn't. He continues fucking Gabrielle Delacour through orgasm after orgasm, pounding into her cunt with so much force that he's ramming up against the entrance of her womb itself.

He didn't think this was who he was… but if nothing else, the Delacours have brought something dark and untamed out of him. They've helped him uncover a part of himself he did not know existed, that he does not recognize. However, the more he fucks Gabrielle after having dominated both Fleur and Apolline… the more he's becoming familiar with this new version of himself.

Perhaps this was what he needed to be all along. Perhaps this was who he was supposed to be not just here at Chateau Delacour, but also back in Hogwarts. Perhaps this was what he needed to take the fight to the Lodge of Sorceresses and the enemies of his other allies, once and for all.

They pull apart for air after a moment, he and Gabrielle. And it's in that moment that Gabrielle whines out, getting his attention.

"P-Please! Please, inside! Fill me with your seed, 'Arry! Breed me! Make me your bitch! Make me your c-cum dump!"

Harry almost pauses, before catching himself and continuing to plow Gabrielle silly. It's not an entirely unexpected request. She's in heat after all, her first ever heat. But still… he can't possibly give her what she wants. Not under these circumstances. She's under the influence of her heat. It would be better for him to refrain for now, and offer when she was in a better state of mind, surely…

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Chapter 38: Gabrielle Delacour Pt. 2

A/N: Also just a heads up , I had a certain group of my readers vote on the future of this story. Over 80% said they want me to wrap up PP and start a new Harry Potter fic so that's what I'm doing. PP will finish up in the next 4-5 more chapters.

Thanks for reading and be sure to keep an eye out for the fic that will replace this one down the road! Right now a certain group of my readers are voting on exactly what that story will be, with ideas involving a Fourth Year Time Traveler Harry, a Post-Canon Private Eye Harry, and a dimension traveling Master of Death Harry currently being thrown around. Hopefully whatever they vote for, you enjoy it just as much as you enjoyed this one if not more so!

-x-X-x-

Reaching out, Harry grabs Gabrielle by her hair as he makes his choice. Burying his cock in the gorgeous quarter veela's hungering twat again and again, he growls, forcing Gabrielle to look him in the eye.

"Is that what you want, Gabrielle? Is that what you need?"

Deep, DEEP in her heat, Gabrielle's eyes are wide as she nods best she can in his grasp. With him holding her by her hair, she can really only manage little jerks of her head up and down. Its honestly rather adorable in his totally unbiased opinion.

"Nnnngh… y-yes! Please! 'Arry, I'm begging you! Cum inside of me!"

He keeps fucking her but holds back his release for the moment. It's not easy, but then nothing worth doing ever is, is it? He won't cum though. Not just yet.

"You're asking… but you're not really begging, are you? If you were truly begging, you would address me properly…"

It's a whim, if he's being honest. But it's also an educated guess, based on everything he's experienced with the Delacour women so far. He watches as a brief moment of confusion crosses over Gabrielle's young face… and then the light of understanding dawns.

To her credit, she doesn't hesitate once she comprehends what he's demanding of her. She wants it that badly, moaning and whining and squirming in desperation beneath him.

"Please… Master! Please pump your silly little v-veela cum dump full of your seed! Please sir, please use me as your broodmare!"

There it is. That's some honest, earnest begging right there. Harry can't say for sure where it came from, but some part of him believed that without that… cumming inside of Gabrielle Delacour would have been a mistake. Without her complete and total submission, without her calling him Master, he would have been giving in to her, rather than the other way around.

Now though, she's debased herself more than enough for his tastes. And she's given him the proper respect. So, without further ado…

Gabrielle's eyes widen, as she feels him slam deep into her drooling quim one final time. Her pouty, perfectly kissable lips part in an o of surprise as he begins to cum inside of her. That surprise only lasts for a moment however, before it's replaced by pure, unadulterated bliss. As her eyes roll back in her head, her tongue sticks straight out of her mouth, acting like a siren's call towards Harry.

Just as her voice is starting to leave her lips, just as she's beginning to get LOUD, Harry surges forward and captures Gabrielle's mouth with his own one last time. He dominates her twofold, both by kissing the ever-living shit out of her, and by emptying his balls in her needy womb, filling her to the brim with his seed.

"Nnnnngh!"

The muffled noises she makes as he creampies her right there on the spot are absolutely adorable. For a moment, its just the two of them in a lover's embrace, no one else in the whole wide world.

… And then the moment passes. Harry finishes cumming inside of her, and Gabrielle finishes her own explosive orgasm. They keep kissing for a little while longer, but eventually they do have to pull apart. For a second, they just stare into one another's eyes… until, over the sound of their heavy breathing, they hear a third set of lungs doing overtime, as well as the sound of fingers shlicking in and out of a sopping wet cunt.

Looking over, Harry and Gabrielle take in the sight of Fleur Delacour. The older veela is naked and standing there by the bed, one hand on a tit and the other between her legs where she's vigorously masturbating as she pants breathlessly. Staring back at them wide-eyed, the part veela whimpers needily.

"P-Please…"

Harry just snorts, knowing full well that he's in for a long weekend with the Delacours. Still, not only is he happy to help Gabrielle with her heat… perhaps he can make use of this whole situation for his own ends as well. More allies can't be a bad thing, right?

-x-X-x-

"… I am sorry to say zhat all we can offer is our… personal submission, 'Arry. Our loyalty belongs to ze Clan."

Sitting there, Harry has to admit… those were not the words he was expecting to hear when he broached the subject. Especially not from a very naked Apolline Delacour, kneeling there between his legs with her equally naked daughters positioned on either side of her.

He's fucked the three Delacour women all weekend long, to hell and back. It's been a trial and a half, and a few times Harry wondered if he just might die. He'd consoled himself with the knowledge that if he DID die, he would at least die a happy man.

But no, he'd survived till the end of the weekend, and more than that he'd come out on top against all odds. The constant onslaught of horny enthusiasm and veela allure had been a trial to be sure, especially when it had gone on for nearly forty-eight hours, but Harry had maintained his position of dominance in Chateau Delacour.

As such, when he'd had the Fleur, Gabrielle, and Apolline all on their knees giving him a three-way blowjob, he'd figured it was finally time to broach the subject of their assistance regarding his issues at Hogwarts and abroad. After all, while the Lodge was a problem at Hogwarts, there was also the matter of potentially more than one Dark Lord over in America that he might end up having to contend with.

It was all such a damn mess, so Harry had been eager to get some backup in the form of three gorgeous part veela who were not only loyal to him, but quite capable witches in their own right.

Alas, Apolline had shut that down just now. And from the way Fleur was continuing to slurp at his cock and Gabrielle was suckling at his balls while neither of the younger Delacours looked him in the eye… she spoke for all three of them.

Furrowing his brow, Harry tries not to be too angry as he seeks… an explanation.

"Elaborate, please. What is the difference between personal submission and loyalty, exactly?"

Apolline looks at her two daughters for a moment, before clearing her throat. She looks regretful, but also firm in her resolve.

"We are your sexual playthings, 'Arry Potter. You 'ave dominated my daughters and I so thoroughly that we can be nothing else. 'Owever… we are also of zhe Clan. We are but a branch family of zhe Delacour Veela Clan."

Harry blinks at that, taken aback.

"Wait, but isn't there a Lord Delacour?"

He could have sworn there was, hadn't Apolline brought a man with her to Fleur and Bill's wedding? Then again, he hadn't seen a single soul all weekend. It was a little strange, now that he thought about it… the Chateau was entirely empty, save for Apolline, Fleur, and Gabrielle. Was that because Gabrielle was in heat? Did Apolline send the servants away until it was passed? But that still didn't explain where Fleur and Gabrielle's father had gone.

Smiling softly, Apolline shakes her head.

"Non, 'Arry. I am zhe Lady Delacour and share my title with no other. Fleur and Gabrielle's fathers were… men of some middling strength zhat I procured zhe talents of for a time."

Oh. Harry supposed that explained it. And whoever he saw Apolline with at the wedding had just been the Lady Delacour's plus one. To be fair, the wizard hadn't looked much like Fleur and Gabrielle thinking back on it. But Harry had just chalked that up to the two part veela taking very much after their mother. In fact, that was still the case… looking down at them now, Harry would never have guessed in a million years that they weren't full sisters. The veela blood must have rung true, at least in terms of looks.

"Zhat said, I am not zhe Clan Matriarch. I cannot make zhe decision you want me to make. Not when zhe Delacour Veela Clan already 'as an agreement with zhe Lodge of Sorceresses."

THAT sends a true jolt through Harry, and in a heartbeat, he's standing up and stepping away from all three Delacour women. Fleur and Gabrielle both whimper and whine in unison, trying to move after him, but Apolline likely sees the dangerous glint in her eyes as she reaches out and holds her daughters back. Damn it. Damn it all, was this whole thing a trap? None of the women before him were exactly a threat right now, kneeling and naked as they were. But maybe that was just what they wanted him to think before they unleashed their innate veela magic upon him or something.

Harry wets his lips and gets ready to summon his wand to his hand, only for Apolline to hold up a hand.

"Peace, 'Arry Potter. It iz not what you zhink."

Emerald eyes narrowed, Harry grits his teeth.

"Then what is it, if its not what I think?"

"Zhe pact between zhe Delacour Clan and zhe Lodge of Sorceresses iz a pact of non-aggression, nothing more. We do not move against zhe Lodge, and zhe Lodge does not move against us. To do otherwise would be to invite war."

That… alright, so yeah, that wasn't as bad as Harry thought. Seeing him calming down, Apolline turns her grip on her daughters' shoulders into a pair of smacks on their asses. Harry doesn't stop them from hurrying over to him, crawling up and returning to his cock with haste. Though amusingly enough, Gabrielle uses this opportunity to take his actual member in her mouth, relegating her older sister down to his balls, much to Fleur's momentary consternation before she gets to work all the same.

Apolline, meanwhile, rises to her feet, prowling over to where Harry is standing and her daughters are now kneeling. He has to admit, the Lady Delacour positively exudes eroticism. Not just in the perfectly sculpted shape of her gorgeous body, but also in every movement she makes with it.

"So you see, our hands are tied. I cannot make zhe Clan end the pact, I do not 'ave zhe power to do so."

The way she's talking… Harry tilts his head to the side. He can tell he's being led along a bit here, but at the same time… well, he's alright with being a little led along, he supposes.

"And who does have the power to do so, Apolline?"

The Lady Delacour shivers at his use of her first name. Not quite as disrespectful of calling her something crass like 'slut' or 'bitch', but still disrespectful enough to be hot. She loves being talked down to, at least by him.

"… Zhat would be my mother, sir. Zhe Matriarch of zhe Delacour Veela Clan."

Her mother. Harry tries to picture it, and frowns. Apolline was… VERY fit for her age. Very youthful, very gorgeous. She was a mother of two but didn't look it. However, Harry had to admit, he was having a hard time imagining Fleur and Gabrielle's grandmother still being as fit or as beautiful at whatever her advanced age must have been.

"You would need to persuade 'er, 'Arry. If you wanted to 'ave any chance of breaking zhe pact, you would need to convince 'er to do so."

From the tone of Apolline's voice, Harry can tell exactly what she means. She wants him to fuck her mother the same way he's fucked her, Fleur, and Gabrielle. However… Apolline's mother, Fleur and Gabrielle's grandmother… she'll be a full blown veela, won't she? That goes without saying, Harry supposes. Not only is Apolline half-veela and Fleur and Gabrielle quarter-veela, but Harry can't imagine a Veela Clan accepting a Matriarch that was anything less than full veela.

Her allure would likely be out of this fucking world. Was Apolline trying to ensnare him even now? Was she trying to lead him into a trap after all? Was the whole bit about the pact being just non-aggression a lie and she WAS actually working with the Lodge? But then, why tell him anything about it in the first place? She wouldn't have said all of this if she weren't being honest… right?

"I can see the concern in your eyes, 'Arry Potter. Let me lay your fears to rest. I would not suggest zhis course of action if I did not zhink you could 'andle my mother. Zhere is more to you then meets zhe eye, 'Arry. I can feel it."

Well, the vote of confidence was nice, Harry supposed. And he HAD come this far in a bid to get allies for his upcoming battles. Turning the Delacour Veela Clan to his side would not just gain him new allies, but had the potential to blindside the Lodge, since they thought that no aggression would come from that avenue.

Still…

"How… old is your mother, exactly?"

Down below, Fleur and Gabrielle both pause their fellating of his genitals for a moment before continuing on as if they'd never stopped. Meanwhile, Apolline lets out a tinkling laugh.

"My, asking a lady her mother's age? 'Ow shameless of you, 'Arry Potter. Zhe Matriarch iz centuries old, if you must know. But if you are imagining someone old and decrepit, put such expectations to rest. We veela do not DO old or decrepit."

Centuries old. Harry was beginning to suspect there was an awful lot he did not know about veela, especially full-blooded veela. Still, from the sound of things, the Delacour Matriarch wouldn't look her true age. That was good to know, he supposed.

… Reaching down, Harry rests his hands atop both Gabrielle and Fleur's heads. He doesn't pull them away, but pushes them in closer, guiding the two young women up and down his cock and deeper into his ball sack respectively. As they gurgle, Apolline glances down in amusement and a hint of envy, before lifting her gaze to meet his eyes once more.

"Tell me more about your mother and Clan. As much as you can without betraying any prior loyalty, I suppose."

"Zhen you will meet with my mother and make your case?"

Harry shakes his head at that.

"I haven't decided yet. Start talking."

It was true, he hadn't decided yet. But he knew which way he was leaning. In for a penny, in for a pound. That was the saying, wasn't it? Harry was loath to abandon this effort after coming so far. But maybe that was sunk cost fallacy talking. Maybe he should cut his losses here and just treat this weekend as the fun little vacation it was.

It really came down to whether or not he thought Fleur and Gabrielle's grandmother would be more of a headache than she was worth. He'd come out ahead with Delacour Veela so far, but that was with a trio of part veela he was already familiar with. Did he risk going even further?

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Chapter 39: Triss Merigold

In the end, after everything Apolline tells him about her mother and the Delacour Clan, Harry does agree to have her arrange a meeting between them. While there are obviously some things that Apolline can't tell him due to her loyalty to the Veela Clan coming first, she tells him enough for Harry to know he wants her mother on his side. More than that, he doesn't want her against him.

Still, it will take time, or so Apolline says. And Harry has a job to do at Hogwarts. He's still the DADA Professor after all, but more than that, he's being watched. If he's gone for too long, the Lodge of Sorceresses will begin to question his absences and start wondering just where he's run off to, of that Harry has no doubt. He's been moving carefully until now, but admittedly taking a trip to the mainland to spend the weekend at Chateau Delacour might have been a step too far. Only time would tell.

For now, Harry bids farewell to Gabrielle and Apolline Delacour, and returns to Hogwarts with Fleur at his side. All three of them are incredibly clingy about it, with Fleur even looking smugly at her sister and mother as she gets to leave with him. But it's not like he can have her hanging off his arm wherever he goes in the Castle, so as soon as they're back at Hogwarts, he sends Fleur off for the time being.

… Something tells him she'll be paying him some late-night rendezvous going forward, however. That combined with all the other women he's juggling, including a nymphomaniac Narcissa Malfoy… well, it was a lot to say the least. But Harry couldn't stop now. Not for anything.

That was why the first thing he did after classes were over on Monday was pull Hermione aside to see how things were going with Professor Merigold. The brunette witch had been radiating smugness and barely contained excitement all throughout Defense Against the Dark Arts, so he figured SOMETHING must have happened.

Her glee only builds when they're finally alone together, with Harry raising an eyebrow as Hermione positively vibrates in place.

"Well, 'Mione? How are things going?"

"Good! Better than good, even. Um… things happened, while you were away in France."

Harry blinks at that. Things happened? Could Hermione be anymore vague? And yet, it was obvious that his friend was eager for him to ask her… so he does, too amused to be annoyed over her wiggling and squirming.

"Things happened? What kind of things?"

"… The assassination kind of things."

Eyes widening, Harry suddenly looks at Hermione in a new light. She doesn't look hurt, but then… no, that doesn't make sense either. If Professor Merigold was dead, Harry would have heard about it by now, that sort of news wouldn't be kept from him, especially not with the Headmistress on his side. As far as he knew, all of the Hogwarts Faculty were still alive.

"Assassination?! Who's?!"

Glancing around, even though the classroom is empty save for the two of them, Hermione explains in a hushed whisper.

"They tried to kill Professor Merigold over the weekend. Luckily, I was there. I saved her life, Harry. She owes me a life debt now."

Reeling, Harry finds himself trying to process Hermione's words. It's hard though, because he's currently having to reconcile everything she's saying. For starters, he never intended for Hermione to be put in danger. Sure, they were effectively involved in a shadow war with the Lodge of Sorceresses, but it was all supposed to be politics and influence. Not… not assassinations! More than that though…

"They? They who?! Who would even try to kill her?"

Hermione bites her lower lip, teasing it between her teeth for a moment.

"… I think Triss would be better suited to explain that Harry. Its very… complicated. I can have her meet us anywhere. Just name the place."

For a split second, Harry wonders if Hermione has been turned. Is this all a trap? Have they gotten to her? But as he looks at her, he feels like he's being paranoid. She doesn't show any signs of being under any sort of magical charm or anything like that. And he doesn't think she's lying to him either. It's all a bit crazy, but that's what he gets for running off to France he supposes. Things happened, as Hermione had thoroughly understated it.

"… Fine. Room of Requirement, as soon as dinner is over. Bring her, Hermione. I want to know what's going on."

"Don't worry, Harry. This is good for us. I'm fine, I wasn't injured at all."

He slowly nods, even as they begin making their way out of the classroom and towards the Great Hall for dinner. His mind is racing, going a mile per minute. He should have been thinking about the Delacour Matriarch and his upcoming meeting with her, but now this was happening it seemed… if it wasn't one thing, it was another, Harry supposed.

-x-X-x-

Triss Merigold, the Hogwarts Charm Professor, is absolutely nothing like her predecessor. Not that that was saying much when her predecessor was a part-goblin wizard. Harry had never had any problems with Professor Flitwick. He'd always seemed like a good sort. Luckily, even with the Lodge of Sorceresses' machinations pushing out the previous Hogwarts Faculty, Harry had heard Filius had landed on his feet.

Apparently, the diminutive wizard had been quite the Dueling Champion before he took up his post at Hogwarts. In the wake of his dismissal, Filius Flitwick had returned to his roots and last Harry had read in the paper, he was making quite the tear across the European Dueling Circuit. Honestly, Harry wished him all the best in that regard.

Meanwhile, Triss Merigold was… well, she was beautiful to start. Vibrant red hair, emerald green eyes just like Harry's. He'd have wondered if they were related if not for his mother's status as a muggleborn. On top of that, his mother and Triss had two different shades of red. But the eyes… the eyes are very similar.

Staring into those eyes now as the Charms Professor stands there in the Room of Requirement after being escorted in by Hermione, Harry frowns.

"Hermione tells me that you can explain the events of the weekend better than she can. So please, how exactly did it come to pass that someone tried to kill you and Hermione had to save you? How did you come to owe my friend a life debt… and who the hell would want to kill you in the first place?"

Because yes, while Harry very much wanted to know who wanted Triss Merigold dead, he had also had more time over dinner to process what Hermione had told him. Like the fact that Merigold now owed her a life debt. He hadn't really registered that when Hermione first said it. But that was big. VERY big.

Glancing between Harry and Hermione, Triss smiles weakly.

"W-Well… I suppose you know more than we thought. Did you send Ms. Granger to keep me company, Lord Potter? Here I thought I was reeling her in, but she was the one getting close to me for you, wasn't she?"

Calling him by his political title instead of the one afforded to him by his position here at Hogwarts was clearly a deliberate choice. And yet, while she's making some harsh accusations, her tone doesn't sound that accusatory. Instead, she sounds almost defeated.

"… Yes. I sent Hermione to get close to you. Not that that seems to matter much now. Someone is out to get you, and we're all you have."

Triss lets out an amused huff at that, crossing her arms over her chest for a moment before seeming to think better of it and uncrossing them.

"You're more right than you know, Lord Potter. And it does matter, actually. Because Hermione Granger saved my life. And if she was only there on your orders, that means you saved my life as well. The life debt I owe is shared between the two of you."

Harry's eyes go wide at that, even as he feels magic SING at Triss' words. Upon her recognition of the part he inadvertently played in her survival, he feels a bond snap into place between them. An actual magical life debt. The thing he'd managed to dodge back in the day between him and a much younger Gabrielle Delacour. Now here he was, tied to Triss Merigold alongside Hermione.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that, except that… well, Triss clearly wanted it this way. From what he knew about magical life debts, there was a certain degree of… acceptance involved. It wasn't just enough to save someone's life, though that could easily start it. But the one who was saved had to be immensely grateful and accept the debt in the process.

Harry could easily imagine Triss in the heat of the moment accepting her life debt to Hermione wholeheartedly in the midst of the adrenaline brought on by the assassination attempt on her life. However, for her to accept that the life debt was shared with him as well here and now, well that was fully her decision. He hadn't even suggested it before she'd gone and done it.

Her smile wan as she looks between them both, Triss Merigold clasps her hands together in front of her.

"I hope now that you'll both believe me when I say I need your help and I'm willing to do anything to get it."

He definitely believed it. But at the same time…

"Why not go to the Lodge? Aren't you a member? Shouldn't they be able to protect you from whoever this enemy is?"

Shaking her head, Triss sighs.

"The answer to that question is one and the same as the answer to your previous question. Who would want me dead? Why don't I go to the Lodge? Simply, really… it's because the Lodge is who wants me dead, Lord Potter."

That sends a jolt through Harry. Trouble in paradise? But then of course. The whole concept of taking out the Lodge's support bit by bit was predicated on what Andromeda had told him. The Lodge of Sorceresses was not a monolith. They were a politically minded organization made up of witches all looking for power, each in their own way.

Still, to go so far as to have Triss killed…

"You know for certain that they were the ones who sent the assassin after you?"

Triss nods sharply, her lips pulled into a deep frown.

"The man Hermione saved me from is… or rather WAS a known associate of Philippa Eilhart, one of our leaders. Arthur du Vleester, though I don't expect you to know who he is."

He didn't, but Harry could imagine the man was a wizard of some passing talent if he'd made it into the castle in order to make an attempt on Triss' life. That shouldn't have been possible with the wards, right? Unless Andromeda was so antagonistic towards the witches of the Lodge that the Headmistress simply didn't bother including them in the Castle's protections at this point.

Harry didn't know for sure, but what he did know was that this was an opportunity. Still, it was also incredibly concerning. Assassination was something of an escalation to say the least.

"… Why would Philippa Eilhart want you dead? What would cause such division in your ranks? You all seemed to be fairly united to me. All of you coming to Hogwarts this year, just to sink your claws into me."

Triss blinks at that, before letting out a soft laugh.

"Ah, so you don't know everything just yet. I'm not sure if I should be pleased about that, or worried. Still, it seems I'll be the one to explain things to you, Lord Potter."

Harry bristles at her slightly condescending words, but before he can get too upset, he's taken aback by what Triss does next. The witch was wearing a beautiful gold and teal dress that honestly left little to the imagination to begin with. It showed off quite a bit of her chest and more than what one might normally call cleavage, extending all the way down to her waist where a belt kept the dress cinched shut.

Now, Triss reaches down and undoes that belt, pulling it away and then tugging her dress open the rest of the way. The beautiful red head exposes the rest of her chest to him, even as she shucks the dress off and then moves to take off the skirt under it as well. In short order she's standing there in nothing but her underwear, specifically a pair of lacy, golden panties and nothing else.

Hermione looks excited, and Harry begins to wonder just what sort of relationship the brunette has cultivated with the Charms Professor. He DID tell her to get close to Triss, to be fair. Still, he wasn't expecting Triss to in turn be so forward.

"What are you doing?"

Giving him a more… lively smile, Triss walks forward, a strut in her step and a sway to her hips as she makes her way up to him… and drops down to her knees, reaching for his robes.

"This is your preferred method of interacting with witches, is it not Lord Potter? I merely seek to make you feel… more comfortable."

Harry flushes a little at that. When she put it like that, she made him sound like a horndog damn it! Except, when he thought about it… well, he couldn't exactly deny it. Before he knows it, Triss has his cock out in her hands and is stroking his member up and down. She looks up at him expectantly, even as Hermione begins to strip a few feet away, seemingly just as eager to get involved.

The thing is, Harry wants answers more than he wants sex at the moment. He just spent an entire weekend fucking three absolutely gorgeous veela witches into multiple stupors, thank you very much. But he supposes there's no problem mixing business with pleasure. If nothing else, Professor Merigold seems to be VERY grateful for the part he played in Hermione saving her life. Very grateful indeed.

Still, as she wraps her bust around his cock and begins to give him a titjob, Harry considers just how he's going to have this go. He's not letting her call the shots, that's for sure. He's going to get his answers… even if he has to put her on her back and fuck her silly first to make her talk.

"Ask me anything, Lord Potter. I have no choice but to tell you… everything."

Her voice breathy and sultry, Triss licks her lips as she gazes up at him with those emerald green eyes of hers.

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Chapter 40: Triss Merigold Pt. 2

Even as Triss kneels there with her tits around his cock and words of submission and supplication on her lips, something about the situation twinges at Harry's senses. He doesn't like it. But why doesn't he like it? Triss Merigold is a stunning red head with a beautiful body, and he's currently getting to enjoy that body. On top of that, she's offering him up all the information he could possibly want. He just has to ask.

And yet… and yet, he doesn't like how assertive she's trying to be even now. It hits him then that a witch like Triss Merigold wouldn't be a member of the Lodge of Sorceresses if she didn't know how to turn a bad situation to her advantage. He didn't doubt her sincerity. The Life Debt between her and Hermione was real, and she had even gone out of her way to acknowledge his part in her salvation, causing the Life Debt to spring into existence between the two of them as well.

But that was all part of the gambit, wasn't it? She hadn't planned to have an assassination attempt made against her, nor had she planned to owe Hermione her life, but she HAD immediately started to look for a way to turn the situation to her advantage. Even when she was on the backfoot, she was still scheming.

Triss Merigold, Harry decides then and there, is a very dangerous witch indeed. And one that he does not want to give any more room to play her games. Bringing out his wand, Harry flicks it at the red head before she can fully register its presence. Her emerald eyes blink, before a squawk leaves her lips as spools of conjured magical rope fly from it and wrap around her in an instant.

She's yanked back from him and up into the air as her hands are yanked behind her back, the rope crisscrossing up and down her arms and securing them tightly. At the same time, her legs are pulled apart and bent at the knee, thick bands of conjured rope wrapping around her thigh and shin to bring them together.

Floating there, Triss opens her mouth to speak, only for the rope to take advantage and slip right between her teeth, gagging her as well as yanking her head back at the same time. She can still look at him, but her range of movement is extremely limited now as Harry steps forward and runs his wand along her body, trailing it across her flexing flesh.

"There's always a choice, Professor Merigold. You've made yours, haven't you? Owing Hermione and now me a Life Debt is all well and good, but I haven't forgotten the role you played. You and your Lodge came here this year for me. You entered into a teaching contract at Hogwarts willingly for one reason and one reason alone… because you wanted ME. Am I wrong? Tell me I'm wrong and I'll release you right here and now if you make me believe it."

For a moment, Triss squirms before slowly shaking her head. No, he's not wrong. And they both knew it too.

"Hermione."

The brunette steps forward, moving into place behind Triss. Her hands wrap around and grasp at the older witch's breasts, giving them a good, hard squeeze and toying with them eagerly. Triss squeals through her gag, taken by surprise as she'd been more focused on Harry in front of her. Not willing to give the red head a chance to catch her bearings, Harry grabs her by her thighs, his fingers digging into her supple, pliant flesh.

His cock slaps against her slit, and he's a little pleased to find her wet. Perhaps not sopping, but more than a little moist at least. It certainly makes it easier to slam home into her twat, stretching her out around his cock right then and there as she floats between him and Hermione, the magical rope bondage he's put her in keeping her aloft for him.

Together, Harry and Hermione double team the Charms Professor, with Hermione suckling at Triss' neck and mauling her sensitive breasts while Harry fucks the red head hard and fast. Triss, trapped in place, can do nothing but take it. Well, that and enjoy it. The older witch definitely enjoys it, for all that she'd been trying to subtly take control before he'd pulled the rug out from under her.

Whether she's naturally disposed towards submissive behavior or submitting in this way alleviates some of the pressure from the Life Debt, it doesn't truly matter. The end result is the same; a wantonly moaning Triss Merigold flexing her cunt walls around his cock as her eyes flutter and she rapidly approaches an orgasm.

That's where Harry stops. Right at the edge of her climaxing all over his member. He ceases all movement and the moment Hermione realizes he's done so, she follows suit. Triss is left on the edge quite literally, on the precipice of an orgasm, edged beyond belief as Harry halts all efforts to make her cum.

"Mmm…"

Smirking slightly as Triss wiggles a bit, Harry just shakes his head in silence. That silence continues for a moment longer until the rise and fall of Triss' beautiful breasts ceases being quite so rapid. The red head finds herself walked back from the edge of orgasm against her will, her breathing slowly evening out as she stares at him imploringly. But Harry does not show her mercy. He lets the bit of edging turn into a properly ruined orgasm as the seconds tick by, turning into minutes.

He couldn't make her cum now if he wanted to, not without starting all over again. Too much time has passed.

Tilting his head to the side, Harry's own emerald eyes flash as he looks Triss in the eye.

"I trust we both understand your position now, Professor Merigold."

"… Mmhmm…"

As Triss submits verbally, Harry smiles and begins to move inside of her again, though much more slowly this time. He takes his time building things back up, and Hermione matches his speed and energy to a T, the brunette witch following his lead, much to Harry's pleasure.

Moaning through her gag at the slower pace, Triss' eyes flutter, only for her to jolt when he suddenly pulls the rope from between her teeth. It immediately slides down under her chin to her neck instead, not quite choking her, but definitely hugging her throat enough for her to know it's there.

"Now then, let's talk about what you know."

"… O-Of course, Lord Potter. What do you want to k-know?"

Shaking his head, Harry grabs Triss by her chin rather roughly, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"It's not about what I want to know. It's about what you think I should know. You owe Hermione and I a Life Debt, Triss. What does the Life Debt think we should know?"

From the light grimace that spreads across her features, Harry knows he has her. By asking him to ask her anything, she put the ball firmly in his court. If he asked a question, she would be obligated by the Life Debt to answer it. But if he didn't ask the right questions, then she wouldn't.

Thus, it came down to asking the perfect question. Namely, what did the red head herself think he needed to know to satisfy the Life Debt. Easy enough, though it was clearly uncomfortable for poor Triss Merigold.

"… F-For starters, I lied to you when I agreed with you earlier. You weren't… the only reason we came to Hogwarts."

Harry blinks at that, taken aback.

"Is that so?"

Gasping as he slowly slides in and out of her cunt, filling her with his length again and again, Triss whimpers and nods.

"You were… a candidate, in the b-beginning. But there were other options. As w-well… the Lodge knew that Andromeda wasn't… entirely loyal. We used t-that to our advantage."

Harry furrows his brow, humming and gesturing for Triss to go on.

"Andromeda… did everything in her power to, mm, keep us from d-dominating Hogwarts with the Lodge. She tried to… hide that from us. She only believed she succeeded b-because we let her believe it."

That was… surprising but also not. Andromeda had told him how she'd attempted to stack the deck against the Lodge, by bringing in other witches from outside of the Lodge to fill up positions while claiming to her Mistresses that it was outside of her control. Harry had believed the Hogwarts Headmistress to be competent enough to have pulled one over on them so he hadn't thought about it too hard.

But from the sound of things… Andromeda had been played like a fool. Still, to what end?

"What was the purpose of that?"

Smirking slightly, Triss wiggles in place, though not to escape. She seems… proud of what they'd accomplished.

"Andromeda did our w-work for us, Lord Potter. The others she brought in to fill positions we might have filled with Lodge Witches… each and every one of them was valuable to our plans. The natural Legilimens… the half-Lethifold and her minder, even the Devil's Snare hybrid and her insane friend."

Harry blinks, before furrowing his brow at that last mention. It only takes him a second to realize who Triss must be talking about. The Herbology Professor and her Assistant, Pamela Isley and Harleen Quinzel. He had yet to interact with them. Devil's Snare Hybrid? That sounded… dangerous. But then, no more dangerous than Zatanna and Raven, or Emma and Jean he supposed.

Feeling undeniably protective, Harry takes hold of Triss' chin again.

"What does the Lodge want with them?"

Licking her lips, Triss hesitates for a moment so Harry punctuates his question with another thrust, reminding her of the rewards of cooperating. With a moan, Triss explains.

"They were, mm, p-persons of interest at first. N-Now… now, they are desired b-by the Lodge's Benefactor. Philippa Eilhart's M-Master… and the wizard who likely ordered my death."

Now they're getting somewhere. Everything is starting to come together. For a brief moment, Harry considers if it might be too easy. He ponders if Triss is lying. But no, the Life Debt wouldn't allow it.

Slowly picking up the pace, he rewards the bound red head by fucking her all the harder, causing Triss to moan openly as her pussy walls clench and squeeze along his length.

"Who? Who controls the Lodge of Sorceresses now?"

Eyes fluttering, Triss gasps.

"N-Not all of us… n-not yet. He only owns Philippa through m-magical geas. The rest of us… h-he will need to suborn o-or kill still."

Harry growls, not liking being strung along.

"Who, Triss Merigold? Who holds Philippa Eilhart's leash?"

"A-An American Dark Lord… you know him as Sebastian Shaw… the Black King."

Harry stops dead in his tracks, only beginning to move again when Triss lets out a plaintive whine. Fucking the bound red head almost on autopilot, Harry considers all he knows and how it fits into the context of this new information. But then… of course. Of course it would all fucking tie together like this. He'd been somewhat egotistical, to think that all the Lodge cared about was him, hadn't he?

In all fairness though, everyone had continually told him that he was the Lodge's main focus. Even Ciri had… damn, Harry can't help but snort in amusement as he realizes that he figured out who the American Dark Lord they were after was before Ciri could. And all it took was accidentally saving Triss Merigold's life because he put Hermione on subverting her while he went off to play hanky panky with the Delacours for a weekend.

… Truly, Harry's luck was both amazing and atrocious at the same time, wasn't it? He couldn't seem to catch a break, but at the same time this was everything he needed.

"You believe Sebastian Shaw has control over Philippa Eilhart? How do you know about this, but Yennefer doesn't?"

Triss' eyes flash at the mention of the Potions Mistress, and Harry understands how before the red head even explains.

"Yennefer's head is too far up her own ass for her to realize what's happening until it's too late. She wouldn't have listened to me even if I had told her. But I didn't, for obvious reasons."

Harry frowns, grabbing Triss by the back of her head.

"What obvious reasons?"

"T-Tch. She's… I c-can't know if she's to be trusted… she might be in on all of it. She might have even ordered my assassination."

Somehow, Harry didn't think that was true. He stays silent, staring Triss in the eye until she breaks. Or rather, until the Life Debt forces her to break.

"… Yennefer has always thought herself better than me. If she's so much better, she would know already, wouldn't she? But… she doesn't. She's blind."

There's a certain pride in Triss' voice at that. Harry is forced to admit she's probably right. Yennefer won't even listen to her own daughter… though he suspects if he, Ciri, and Triss all presented a united front, the Potions Mistress would be forced to listen to them. And then Harry would have turned one of the Lodge's leaders to his side.

However, what if she didn't come around? She'd put up a fight, and he didn't know which way Ciri would fall if things took a turn for the worse.

He needed more power. He needed more allies. Triss was a start, but Harry needed something substantial. With a grunt, he begins to really fuck Triss Merigold. She squeals as the questioning comes to an end, a slight nod of his head seeing Hermione's hands returning to the gorgeous red haired witch's body. Together, they tag team her again until finally, this time around, Harry lets Triss cum. It's a truly spectacular orgasm after everything he put her through.

Pulling her down from where she's floating in the air, Harry slaps his messy cock down on her face and watches as she eagerly, almost gleefully goes to town on his dick, sucking and slurping as she cleans him up. At the very least, he believes everything she's said is the truth as far as she knows it.

And that means he only really has two options. Go to Ciri now and confront Yennefer with Triss' confession… or hold off and gather more in the way of allies. Specifically, in the way of allies outside of this castle.

… He would soon have a meeting with a certain Veela Matriarch set up on the books. And maybe the Delacour Clan were exactly what Harry needed to turn the tables on the Lodge and their Master once and for all.

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Chapter 41: The Delacour Matriarch

A/N: Hey guys, 'Book 1' of this story is very nearly complete. Thanks for enjoying the ride with me, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and the final chapter of Book 1 as it comes out next time!

-x-X-x-

In the end, the potential of getting a whole clan of Veela on Harry's side was too much to pass up. Even if he still wasn't entirely sure what would happen when he came face to face with the true Matriarch of the Delacour Clan, Harry knew he needed to try. They weren't just potential allies; they were potential enemies. If he left them alone, they would probably end up on the side of the Lodge of Sorceresses. But if he could turn them to his side, he would be in a much better position.

And so he bid his time until the weekend finally arrived and Apolline Delacour could lead him to the Delacour Clan's ancestral grounds. Harry isn't sure what he's expecting when they arrive, but the pressure of dozens of Veela Allures probably should have been obvious. And yet, while he does stiffen at the feeling at first, wondering briefly if this was a trap after all… it's not as difficult as he's imagining it to be.

It's as though all of the differing allures are warring with each other. They're certainly not working together. Instead, he's merely caught in the middle of all of them, and it's making the individual allures weaker than they otherwise would be. If they were capable of cooperation, then perhaps he would be brought to his knees. But after that first moment, Harry is able to stand tall, his shoulders squared and his jaw set.

Apolline merely nods her approval at this before leading him further in. Of course, his own presence does not go unnoticed it seems, because soon enough Harry lays eyes on some of the Veela the aforementioned allures belong to. They peek out from around corners and cracks in doorways, their attention zeroing in on him even as he follows after Apolline.

He's a little surprised none of them make a move to be honest. He can see the hunger in their eyes. He can practically feel their desire in the air. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. And yet, not a single Veela tries to waylay them. Instead, they're left unmolested as he and Apolline eventually reach a pair of large doors.

"You must go on without me from 'ere, 'Arry. The Matriarch awaits you within."

Harry eyes Apolline for a second before slowly nodding.

"Thank you for arranging this meeting."

Apolline flushes and averts her gaze.

"… Thank me afterwards, Lord Potter."

Then, she steps back. Harry resists the urge to chuckle. This really isn't the time for laughter. Still, Apolline's farewell is laced with warning. This won't be a simple negotiation. But then, Harry already figured as much. Girding himself, he pushes open the double doors and steps inside.

Once again, he's not sure what he's expecting. Perhaps an arena of some sort? Perhaps dozens of Delacour Veela all seated in a circle around the edge of the room, there to put him in his place. Or maybe he HAD expected exactly what he gets… just one woman waiting for him in a grandiose study.

Of course, even if he'd expected the latter, he never could have expected the Delacour Matriarch's appearance. In fact, the moment he lays eyes on her, he finds himself wondering if she even IS the Delacour Matriarch. The room he finds her in would certainly speak to that, but is this some kind of trick? A prank, perhaps?

Seated in a high-back chair next to a fire is a seemingly young woman no older than Gabrielle Delacour in appearance. Silver-blonde hair and an ethereal, ephemeral beauty to her marks her undeniably as a Veela, however he feels no allure coming from her. In fact, as the doors close shut behind him of their own accord, Harry no longer feels an ounce of allure at all. Something about the room is shutting it out. They truly are alone in here.

Deciding to tread cautiously, Harry slowly moves forward, though he refrains from getting too close.

"Greetings…"

Looking up from her book, the young beauty blinks inhumanly large blue eyes, and smiles a wide smile.

"Ah. Harry Potter. At long last you stand before me. What a delight."

Harry blinks right back, not sure how to take her words or her tone. She sounds both happy to see him, and like she couldn't care less. More and more, he becomes sure that this is the correct woman. Despite Apolline's assertion that the Delacour Matriarch was centuries old, Harry is confident that he stands before her all the same.

And so he bows his head but not his body, showing her respect but not deference.

"Matriarch Delacour. I've heard a lot about you. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

"Oh? Have you now? Come closer."

Before Harry can second guess the order, he finds his feet moving on their own. He takes several steps forward before he's able to arrest his motion. What… no. That wasn't all him. He didn't do that entirely of his own accord. Green eyes narrow as he looks down into the wide, seemingly guileless blue eyes of the woman seated before him. In turn, the Delacour Matriarch looks up at him, batting her lashes with a strange smile on her lips.

Harry's gaze slides lower, his attention caught by something else. Not the beautiful creature's breasts, however. That's not to say the Matriarch's breasts aren't quite gorgeous, because they are. Perfectly sculpted and shaped, and currently tantalizingly revealed by the low-cut nature of her dress combined with his position looming over her. And yet, they are not what catches Harry's eye.

No, what catches Harry's eye is the fact that the tome the Matriarch was making a show of reading… was upside down.

He blinks at that, as the absurdity of that realization breaks the trance. The Matriarch's eyes flicker down to where his gaze has gone and she gasps as she realizes her mistake.

"Oh phooey!"

As she rises from her seat, Harry has already taken a step back. He takes another a moment later however, and then another. These steps, just like the ones who brought him closer to her, are not entirely voluntary. However, this time around he's not retreating because of a command, but because his instincts are finally managing to get through the fog in his brain. He's in the presence of a natural predator of not just men but wizards. He's walked right into her parlor, and now he's in the spider's web.

"Ugh, that's what I get for trying to look cool. Books are sooo boring~"

Harry can only watch, bewildered, as she tosses the ancient-looking tome to the side without a care in the world. Then, she smiles at him and it's as if his entire life up until this moment has been in black and white. He's barely able to push through the sensation, his hands curling into fists so tight that his nails are digging into the flesh of his palms.

Belatedly, Harry realizes that it's not the room itself that keeps the allures of the other Veela in the compound at bay. It's this woman's presence. Her allure is so much more powerful than all of theirs that Harry couldn't even sense it at first. Even now, he can barely get a grasp on it. He's in the middle of a hurricane and he's barely even realized it because there's also a fog so thick he can't see right in front of himself.

He-

"Calm down."

Harry goes still as she suddenly appears right in front of him. Her hand is on his chest, and his heartbeat, which had been getting faster and faster, finally stops going a mile a minute. His mind even clears up a little bit… enough that he's able to get his wand into his hand and bring it between them, pointing it unwaveringly at the Matriarch's face.

Or rather, he wishes it was unwavering. His arm is shaking. His wand is very much wavering. Grimacing, Harry nevertheless tries to keep the point on her, even as he tries to get a handle on what's happening.

He thought he was ready. He thought he could handle this. Only now is he starting to realize how ill-prepared he was for-

"No. None of that Harry. Honestly, that self-doubt is your biggest weakness."

Startling, Harry jolts back. Had she just read his mind? Was she-

"Oh, it's simple Legilimency. Nothing to throw a fit over, darling."

That was not simple Legilimency! He couldn't even feel her! At least with Jean Grey, he'd quickly adapted to be able to sense when the girl was peering past his Occlumency Shield or not. But with the Delacour Matriarch he's completely blind.

"My name is Vivienne, by the by. Just in case you wanted to stop calling me 'Matriarch' in your head."

Harry grits his teeth as the Matri- as Vivienne gives him another guileless smile. He narrows his eyes and refocuses himself, firming up his grip on the wand he's pointing at her.

"Get out of my head."

Her smile warps into something wicked and she lets out a soft laugh.

"Make me."

He shoots off a stunner right then and there, wordlessly casting it at point blank range. And yet, that doesn't stop Vivienne from swiping the red pulse out of the air with a lightning fast swat of her hand, deflecting the magic into the ground with seemingly no effect.

Harry's heart drops. Shit. There's nothing he can do to her, is there? There's-

"Stop that. I told you already, none of that now. You're better than that, Harry."

It takes him a moment to realize she's talking about his self-doubt. Harry grits his teeth, angry beyond measure but struggling with the feeling of hopelessness pervading this encounter. What the fuck did that mean, he was better than that? She had him dead to rights!"

Stepping forward, into his personal space and past his outstretched arm, Vivienne brings her hands up and caresses his face with her palms.

"You've been hiding from yourself, Harry Potter. You think this is the full breadth of your power? You've managed to fool yourself so well that you've fooled all the others as well. Not even the Lodge knows your true potential."

Her lips curl into a satisfied smirk. And suddenly, her nails are digging into his flesh, not quite piercing his skin but certainly not massaging it either.

"But I do. And if you don't make me stop, I'll just have to gobble you up and make you mine. Is that what you want, Harry? To be my latest pet. So… disappointing."

Belatedly, he notices that she has no accent. Even Gabrielle had had a minor accent, while Fleur and Apolline had harsher accents. But Vivienne Delacour's English is proper and posh, incredibly refined.

His heart is starting to beat rapidly again. He doesn't know what she's talking about. Hiding from himself? Fooling himself? What does she even mean? But she wasn't giving him time to think. Her nails were threatening to draw blood, but they were the worst of his problems. Her allure, her sheer presence… it was threatening to dig into him from all angles. Like a million knives all slowly pressing in on him from all sides.

He can't think. He can't breathe. But… he refuses to give in here. He refuses to be Vivienne Delacour's latest pet. Deep within himself, Harry feels something… crack. Desperation filling his every movement at this point, he reaches for that something with all of his might. As Vivienne Delacour's overwhelming presence bears down upon him, Harry retreats inward.

A look of disappointment flickers across the Delacour Matriarch's face at that.

"So be it. I suppose-!"

Whatever she 'supposed' never gets said, because in the next moment, she's flung away from Harry as he… well, for lack of a better word, explodes. Magic rushes out of him, ripping through the air around him. It tears apart his clothes and swirls in a circle. It flings Vivienne Delacour away from him, causing her nails to catch in his flesh and rip large furrows of skin out of his face. However, before the pain from those scratches can even register, something warm and fizzling fills the furrows, and Harry knows without even having to check that he's healing up.

Magic… magic has never felt this easy. It's never felt this good either. Harry's breaths come out in gasps and pants as he looks down at himself. His wand… hadn't survived the explosion either. It'd quite literally come apart, just as his clothing had. Unlike his clothing however, Harry can SEE the magical components of his wand still floating in the air, reduced to mere particles. And yet… mere particles was all Harry needed.

His Holly Wand with Phoenix Feather had quite a lot of sentimental value to it. Reaching out, Harry pulls on those particles, and in an instant his wand has reformed into a tattoo that crawls up his skin, sliding along his flesh before settling on his shoulder. A representation of Fawkes the Phoenix throwing his head back and cawing rests there now, and Harry knows his wand will always be with him, always be a part of him.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Harry looks down at himself again. Then, his head snaps up as Vivienne Delacour finally pulls herself off the floor.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

The Veela Matriarch's inhumanly large blue eyes twinkle with excitement. Her silver-blonde hair defies gravity as it floats in the air around her like a halo. Harry looks upon her with a clear mind for the first time and recognizes how beautiful she is… but also how deadly and dangerous she is. This right here before him is the most powerful opponent he's ever faced. Even more powerful than Lord Voldemort. In fact, Harry doesn't have a doubt in his mind that Vivienne would wipe the floor with dear old Tom.

But then, as Harry is now… he thinks he could do so just as easily. Hell, as he is now, he feels like he could have grabbed Voldemort by the face, used his fragmented soul to track down all of his Horcruxes, and then destroyed both the Dark Lord and his soul shards all at once through that connection.

"I can't read your thoughts anymore, Harry. So you're going to have to tell me how we're doing this. Are you ready to talk?"

Emerald eyes twitch as he looks to Vivienne. On the one hand, the ancient being had helped him unlock his true magic. What that meant, Harry didn't know… but it felt amazing. On the other hand, she'd done it in a way that still pissed him off even now.

Not even her allure could touch him now. He was free to make his own decisions. And so… Harry chooses.

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Chapter 42: The Delacour Matriarch Pt. 2 (Book 1 End)

A/N: With this, Book 1 of Professor Potter comes to an end. Thank you very much for reading along with me over the years, it means a lot.

My new HP Fic is centered around Harry going back in time to avert the apocalypse, only to arrive in his Fourth Year right after his name comes out of the Goblet of Fire.

Keep an eye out for the first chapter of that fic to be released publicly near the beginning of March!

-x-X-x-

In an instant, he has her by the throat. His fingers close around her neck as he lifts the Veela Matriarch off her feet and slams her against the wall. She doesn't fight him, though she does protect herself. He can feel her magic pressing back against his, as well as defending her from the wall at her back as she looks at him with an amused quirk of her lips.

"… Explain."

While part of him demands satisfaction, a larger part of him wants answers first and foremost. He didn't know where Vivienne Delacour got off on… whatever the hell this was, but he wanted to find out. He wanted to understand what the hell was going on and he wanted it YESTERDAY!

Her lips quirk up even further for a moment, before slowly and purposefully she nods. Only then does he realize his actions have run counter to his demand for answers. His hand is closed so tightly around her delicate neck that she can't speak. In fact, if it weren't for her magic, he would have inadvertently crushed her windpipe.

The realization startles Harry enough that he lets go and Vivienne drops back to the floor, the young-looking Delacour Matriarch's big blue eyes continuing to twinkle madly. She doesn't reach up and rub her neck or anything like that, but she does tilt her head to the side before grinning wickedly at him.

"That's going to leave a mark."

… He'd damn near strangled her; Harry realizes. He would have in fact, if she hadn't defended herself. And while he can't bring himself to be too upset about that, the ease with which he accidentally would have practically snapped her pretty little neck does take him aback something fierce.

Still, Vivienne lets out a chuckle and steps forward, as though unperturbed by her brush with death. She certainly has no problem invading his personal space again, standing mere inches away from him as she peers up into his emerald eyes. At least this time he doesn't struggle against her allure. Her presence no longer fills the room like it did before, damn near drowning him in it. Not for lack of trying though. The only reason her presence no longer fills the room is because his presence demands its own space in return. He is an island unto himself now.

"It's simple, Harry. You've been playing this game with a fraction of your true potential. The machinations of Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle kept you down, a pair of albatrosses around your neck that you've only just managed to shake off."

Harry's eyes narrow dangerously at that.

"Seriously? That's the lie you're going with? If you think I'll believe Dumbledore and Voldemort were working together, you're crazier than I thought."

Vivienne, far from taking offense to his words, just giggles and shakes her head.

"Did I say they were working together? They were most definitely at odds, Harry. And neither of them even knew what exactly they were suppressing, or that they were even doing it. If they'd know your true nature, they both likely would have done a lot more to try and kill you outright, I imagine."

With a growl, Harry lashes out and grabs Vivienne by the hair, irritation bleeding through his frayed self-control.

"Stop. Speaking. Riddles."

This time, however, Vivienne isn't inclined to just let him have his way. Her own power pushes back against his, and quite suddenly, her hand is on his crotch… namely, grasping his cock. Not painfully, but certainly firmly as Harry jolts in surprise before glaring at her with renewed agitation.

"You're a feisty one, Harry. But please don't think I'm going to just bend over and take it. You want me? You'd better be prepared to fight for every inch of me."

DID he want her? Fuck, of course he did. She was a beautiful, gorgeous creature. She was also insanely dangerous. He knew each of these things to be equally true now. And yet, even still… his cock throbs in her grasp.

Before he knows it, they're kissing. For a moment, he even wonders if she's managed to worm her way back into his head. But no, this is all him this time. Well, all the both of them. Vivienne Delacour kisses him back, and an instant later she's in his arms, wrapping her limbs around his, gripping down on him as his hands go to her ass, holding her aloft.

Their clothing is quite literally shredded between their grinding bodies, magic doing away with the interfering cloth. They're soon entirely naked, with Vivienne's cunt rubbing against his cock. Harry doesn't hesitate… he lifts the nubile Delacour Matriarch up into the air and promptly drops her down onto his cock, impaling her on the spot.

It's a testament to how unlike his other sexual conquests she is, that Vivienne Delacour barely even grunts. She certainly doesn't squeak or squeal, nor does she cry out or beg for more. She gives as good as she gets. Sure, he might be the one delivering the package while she receives the full length of his cock, but that doesn't stop her from clinging to him and clawing at him. It doesn't stop her from biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and all around making the whole thing into a battle rather than simply sex.

The thing is, Harry wants to know more and he's letting himself get distracted. So, he brings his newly gained magical might to bear and spins around, before soundly driving Vivienne into the couch a few feet away. Pushing her into the cushions, he continues to fuck her, even as he breaks their lip lock and looks her in the eye.

"Explain."

Barely panting, barely even flustered, Vivienne grins at him almost ferally.

"Dumbledore's little gambit to protect you from Voldemort's followers worked well enough. It let you survive until your eleventh birthday at least. But growing up in a nonmagical environment with your nonmagical relatives only stunted your growth. It kept you from realizing your full potential, like a parched man in a desert."

That… made some small amount of sense, Harry supposed. But at the same time, it didn't explain everything. Luckily, Vivienne keeps talking.

"Meanwhile, Riddle unknowingly sunk a shard of his soul into your forehead when his Killing Curse rebounded off of your skull. He didn't just turn you into a Living Horcrux, Harry. He sapped your potential, stealing your magic from you. It should have been a one-two punch. Growing up in a magic desert while at the same time having a literal soul parasite sucking at your personal magic… you should have arrived at Hogwarts barely more than a squib, if you even had enough magic to receive the letter at all."

THAT was a lot more information. Harry pauses for a moment, only to have Vivienne wrap her legs around him and gyrate her hips, forcing him to return to fucking her into the couch. Another reminder that at this moment, he's not in total control. But he's also not just going to submit either. Growling, Harry reaches down and grabs the Delacour Matriarch's tits, practically mauling them as he processes what he's just been told. Vivienne moans approvingly in response.

"… I've never had any problem casting spells. I've never felt particularly weak magically. So why didn't it work? Why wasn't I a squib?"

Giggling a little bit, Vivienne shakes her head.

"Well for one, like I already said, neither of them set out to do any such thing to you. If they had, their methods would likely have been a lot more effective. And secondly… you are just that powerful, Harry. Only one man in all of history has had the power that you do."

Harry's eyes widen. He knows even before she utters the name what she's going to say. It's a name Harry has been hearing from practically his first day in the wizarding world. A name on the tip of everyone's tongues the moment they need to express shock or any kind of strong emotion.

"Merlin."

But Vivienne Delacour isn't saying it as a curse. She's saying it as a name. The name of the man commonly considered to be the most powerful wizard in history. So well-known that even a thousand years after he was gone, his name was still on the lips of every single magical person in the entire world.

Harry's mouth is dry, all of the sudden. He starts to slow down in fucking her again, only for the Veela Matriarch to let out a distinctive whine in the back of her throat and buck her hips aggressively to make him continue plowing her cunt with considerable strength. Still…

"You're claiming that I'm as strong as… Merlin. You think that the reason Dumbledore's housing choice and Voldemort's soul parasite weren't enough to make me a squib was… because I had THAT much power all along?"

Smirking, Vivienne looks undeniably smug as her inhumanly large blue eyes flash.

"I don't just think it, Harry. I know it."

"How? How could you possibly know any of this?"

Harry's questioning retort is damn near immediate. She's shockingly knowledgeable. But where is it all coming from? Gyrating her hips for a moment, Vivienne sighs before answering him.

"I knew Merlin personally, you know. He was a good friend of mine. Did a little stint for him as the Lady of the Lake, in fact. When you have the chance to bask in that sort of power, you don't soon forget it Harry. The feel and taste of that much magic… it's intoxicating. Distinct too."

Here, Vivienne gets a truly otherworldly look in her eyes. In that moment, she is very much not human. But just as quickly as it appears, it's gone and she's back to just edging the border between human and inhuman.

"The day you were born, the leaves of the forest rustled, the snows on the mountaintop melted, and the-!"

She stops, noticing the look on his face and breaking out into laughter.

"S-Sorry? Too cheesy. Well, let me just put it this way. I noticed your magic from the moment you were born. And I continued to notice your magic even when you were put behind a Fidelius Charm. For that to happen from so far away… yes, I kept tabs on you. And once Dumbledore's neglect and Riddle's parasite were both out of the picture, I watched as you slowly came into your own. Hmph, too slowly by far though."

Harry frowns at that, even as Vivienne clenches down on his cock and wiggles her hips again, reminding him that he's still fucking her.

"Eventually, I realized that you were simply too used to being above average to realize that you now had the capacity for being spectacular. That's when I started pushing the Lodge towards you in the first place, to give you a challenge."

Wait, what?! Vivienne uses his moment of absolute shock to turn the tables on him… though not in a truly bad way. All of a sudden it's Harry who's seated on the couch and Vivienne who's bouncing up and down on his lap. His hands to go her hips and for a moment he considers pulling her off of him… but then he settles down. He's still matching her power for power and magic for magic. He's not going to be the first one to blink here.

"I was a little surprised when my daughter reached out to arrange a meeting between us though. I guess I got distracted more recently, because I wasn't paying attention while you fucked my daughter and granddaughters silly behind my back. Otherwise, I would have been at Chateau Delacour myself, making sure this conversation happened WEEKS ago."

Huh. Fair, Harry supposed. He opens his mouth to respond, only to grunt as Vivienne finally milks him of his load. He grunts, his balls clenching up and his cock surging inside of her as he cums and cums and cums. He fills the Delacour Matriarch's womb with his jizz, pumping a hot, thick load right up into the beautiful ancient veela.

She responds by cooing for a moment before slowly sliding off of him and down onto her knees between his legs. Taking up a position of submission down there, Vivienne Delacour looks anything BUT submissive as she gives him a wicked, coy grin.

"The Delacour Veela Coven will side with you, of course, in the battles ahead. The Lodge and the Dark Lord that back them won't know what hit them, Harry."

… He believes her, oddly enough. Call it what you will, but his newly awakened power ensures he keeps a clear head, even in her presence. His own presence isn't letting her worm her way into his mind anymore. He doubts there's a single veela on the planet whose allure can affect him at this point, mostly because he doubts there's another veela alive who's stronger than Vivienne Delacour. Fleur and Gabrielle's grandmother is… certainly something else.

That all said, Harry is still struggling to wrap his mind around the other part.

"Am I truly that powerful? The strongest since Merlin, even? Surely there have been others. Dumbledore. Voldemort. Grindelwald?"

Vivienne chuckles and licks a bit of the mess from his cock before shaking her head.

"Strong Wizards, Harry… but none on your level. Or did you not ever wonder how at the tender age of seventeen, with Voldemort's soul parasite just removed from your head, you managed to destroy the would-be Dark Lord with the Disarming Charm of all things?"

Harry flushes at that.

"I… I used it to rebound his Killing Curse, didn't I? That was what finished off Voldemort…"

Vivienne just gives him an unimpressed stare, until Harry finally looks away. He's forced to confront and acknowledge the absurdity of his life over the next few seconds, thinking of situation after situation where… yes, it made sense that he was more powerful than even Dumbledore and Voldemort. As he does so, the Delacour Matriarch continues to slurp off the mess they made from their coupling with one another. Until finally, she sits back on her haunches and gives him a knowing, expectant grin.

"Well, Harry? What now, hm?"

His jaw clenches as he considers that question for a moment. His emerald eyes flash, as he quickly finds his answer.

"Now? Now we give the Lodge exactly what they wished for. They wanted my power, didn't they? Well then, I'll be happy to show it to them."

Those who submitted, he would spare. Those who insisted on continuing to act against him and his, Harry wasn't so sure he would be able to show mercy towards. But one thing was for shit-sure… the kiddy gloves were off. Now was when things got real.

-x-X-x-

Also as of now, my first ever original novel Breaking Providence is being released publicly on all of the websites I post to! Please if you have the time at least give it a try for me and let me know what you think, it would mean a lot!

Notes:

I have a huge backlog of work on multiple other websites as well, so feel free to check me out there because it'll probably be a long time before I manage to transfer it all over to here, if that is indeed what I end up doing.

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